This was a weird one to write. I kind of ran out of steam on it (no pun intended) until about half an hour ago, where I then wrote the entire middle third. But now that I’ve run out of time as well, I’ve got to post it, so bear in mind that this is practically a first draft. However, it has given me an idea of how to further the challenges, indeed there’s even something quite special about this one, so stay tuned for that as well as the next round of conditions tomorrow. Until then, here she is:
Oh yeah, and in case you missed them the conditions are here.
Ticket Ninja
“Tickets, please! Get out your tickets, please!”
The cry came from the front of the carriage, and Tods’ spirits sank. They didn’t always check tickets on the final stretch of the journey from Old London to New London because it was just a fifty minute flight and they often didn’t bother. Tods had been banking on them not to bother.
Tods was a contestant in the great Ticket Ninja contest hosted by Lord Humbert Featherly. The rules were simple: one had to get from New London round the globe and back to New London, via airship, steamboat and train, without paying for a single ticket. The first person back would be crowned the champion, but any others who made it back would also be considered true ticket ninjas.
But by now Tods wasn’t just another contestant, and not just one of the few remaining ones, but the closest to the finish. In other words, Tods was less than an hour from being crowned the ticket ninja champion. But now, this damned conductor was on the verge of ruining everything.
The Persephone was the biggest airship in the Great Western European Transport fleet. If Tods could escape from the cattle-car third-class compartments, it should be a simple enough task to avoid the conductor for long enough to complete the journey. But first Tods had to escape from the cattle-car third-class compartments.
Each compartment had two doors, so Tods backed towards the opposite door to where the conductor had come in, trying not to catch his eye. Tods reached the door, opened it, stepped through it, and closed it.
The third-class compartments were in the underbelly of the ship, itself bisected by a long straight corridor that ended in stowage at one end and a large, opulent staircase at the other. Tods made for the staircase and took it right to the top, towards the first-class lounges.
Tods stepped into the first-class section just in time to see another conductor heading for the door. He was looking away, but at any moment he would turn to see the new arrival. Panicking at the sight of him, Tods leaped over directly into a group of four fops in the middle of a conversation.
“Well of course,” Tods said, interrupting the current speaker and putting a hand his shoulder. “Naturally, I think you should contact him. But please don’t mention our chat, and definitely don’t tell him about the umbrella stand!”
“Um, umbrella stand?” said the fop nervously. “What umbrella stand?”
Tods, using peripherals to watch the conductor pass, was only half-listening.
“What?”
“You, you said something about an umbrella stand.” The fop tugged at his collar, visibly sweating. “I’ve, I’ve, I’ve never put anything in an umbrella stand before. Except of course, of course except for, for umbrellas.”
The conductor reached the door and stopped before going through, instead picking up a ticketing machine from a small table beside it and turning back to the room, saying, “tickets please. Tickets I haven’t seen please.”
“Damn,” said Tods. “Sorry, what?”
“What do you know about the umbrella stand?” asked the fop, accusingly.
“Oh. Uh, nothing. Forget I said anything.”
With a flash of a grin, Tods slipped away from the group and into the milling crowd of fops and well-to-doers, resolving to find out who that particular gentleman was and what the hell he was doing with his umbrella stand.
Keeping the conductor always on the other side of the room, Tods walked around the outside of the crowd and back to the door, slipping through while the conductor’s back was turned.
Heading down several flights of stairs to second-class, which was comprised of long corridors with individual rooms splitting off from them, and growing tired of all the stress of dodging, hiding, and over-the-shoulder-looking, Tods decided to find a quiet place to sit down and wait out the remainder of the trip, trying two locked doors before finding a third unlocked. Opening it, Tods stepped right into a room where three men were trying to shove a struggling fourth person in a body bag into a rather small wooden trunk. They froze and turned as one to stare at Tods.
“Uh…” said Tods, “sorry. Wrong room.”
Slowly, Tods backed out of the room and gently closed the door.
“Excuse me…”
Tods jumped at the sudden voice and spun to stare directly into the frowning eyes of the second-class conductor.
“Can I please-”
Before he could continue Tods violently grabbed him by the shoulders and said, “My God, you were right. It was the banana. Thank you. Thank you, you beautiful man.”
Then Tods kissed him full on the lips and ran off down the corridor.
Tods made it to the far end of the corridor, practically halfway down the ship, and turned a corner into an offshoot before finally stopping to catch a breath. With no conductor in pursuit, Tods had to assume that he was so shocked by what had happened that he had forgotten that he never saw a ticket. A risky plan, reacting like that, but it was a spur of the moment action and, apparently, a successful one.
Taking advantage of the momentary respite knowing in full confidence that the conductor wasn’t about to appear out of the woodwork again, Tods took out a silver-embellished pocket watch that had originally belonged to an elderly gentleman of some disrepute before Tods had liberated it during a moment of distraction. Flipping open the cover, Tods had to do a double-take – was that really the time?
There was a small porthole at the end of the little offshoot corridor, and Tods looked out of it. Down below, New London sprawled out at far as the eye could see, towering spires of wood and bronze a testament to the ingenuity of the modern age, their uppermost levels wreathed in clouds of steam. At just the right angle through the porthole, the Winchester docks were visible just in front of the ship. Tods’ heart skipped a beat – the Persephone was mere minutes from arriving.
Checking the corridor to make sure no conductors were lurking in wait, Tods practically ran to the exit hall, which was already filling up with a growing crowd. Pushing to the front of the crowd, where no conductor could reach even if they wanted to, Tods’ body vibrated in anticipation. After a few minutes, the ship started shaking, great reverberating sounds clanging through the big hall as the Persephone connected with the dock.
The docking procedure took several minutes, and Tods was practically on the verge of screaming by the time the loading ramp started to lower, letting in a stream of bright sunlight. The moment the ramp touched the dock, Tods was off, dashing down it like a thoroughbred on the final furlong. With no luggage to wait for Tods raced through the terminal, bursting through the great doors at the end and staggering in the sudden blinding light.
Tods’ vision was gone, but all around was the sound of a cheering crowd. High above the cries, an augmented voice boomed out, “Congratulations, Tods McClane… you… are… the ticket ninja champion!”
Overwhelmed and still blind, Tods fought to keep the tears back, raised both arms, and screamed in triumph.