The Sleeping Army Awakes

Part 54 Aerial views

The yellow and black striped Sikorsky landed in a clearing near Vladimir's house. It was just large enough, to be safe to pick up Vladimir, Eliška and Spencer. Boris kept the engines running because the Sikorsky was running so erratically that Boris feared that if he stopped them then they wouldn't start again. The guards bundled Vladimir into the front next to Boris so that he could have an unobstructed view to point out the exact landing site. One of them buckled him in, while the other carried the fishing tackle to the back.

Eliška was uneasy about the whole endeavour because she knew what Count Mikula was trying to do and she wanted to sit next to Spencer forward in the helicopter so she could warn him because Spencer was effectively blocking her, but Sir Percy insisted that Spencer sat beside his lord and master, ostensibly in case he needed to take notes on the building site, though in reality it amused Sir Percy to separate the budding couple just out of spite.

So Eliška was manhandled to the back of the craft, albeit courteously, where one of the guards gave up his window seat so that she could have a better view and enjoy the experience fully.

Eliška was frustrated that she couldn't tell Spencer about her step cousins and their maiden voyage in Fish-sub and the danger that they and Vladimir were in. Why was Spencer blocking her and how could he do it so successfully? Could she trust Spencer and tell him anyway?

Spencer glanced back at Eliška and smiled apologetically, as if he had heard her thoughts, which excited and irritated her further in equal proportions but his thoughts were interrupted by Sir Percy shouting above the din of the helicopter.

"Can we trust this village idiot?" Sir Percy asked, pointing dubiously at Vladimir, "the cretin looks as though he is on something."

"I just gave him something for the flight sir!" Spencer assured him, "He's never flown before sir. He'll be fine in a minute or two."

Spencer was actually worrying that he might have given the old man too many Bliss. It hadn't helped that after the Bliss had kicked in, the old man's inhibitions had been eroded so much that he had drunk the whole jar of cider. He had gulped it down as if it had been a small glass of water. It had been two litres of the strongest cider in Europe laced with wormwood. Vladimir had managed to down the whole jar while they had waited for the helicopter to land. His justification had been that Aunt Sacha urgently needed the jar back.

"He is from simple but hardy peasant stock sir!" Spencer said. "But he used to be the official fisherman of the previous owner and he knows the area like the back of his hand... although of course he has curtailed his activities since you purchased the land."

"He'd better Butler!" Sir Percy said, taking a long draft from his hip flask. "He had better Butler."

"Indeed sir he has!" Spencer assured .

"Tell the pilot that I want to make another slow circuit over the building site before we go down for our fishing expedition." Sir Percy ordered. "By the by why can't we have pilots that speak English any more?"

"Boris does speak a sort of English sir!" Spencer said.

"It isn't the sort of English that I am used to Butler!" Sir Percy spat.

"With respect sir I understand him!" Spencer said.

"We used to have English speaking pilots." Sir Percy continued as if Spencer hadn't spoken. "That bloody pilot doesn't seem to understand a word that I am saying."

"We are in a Slavik country sir. Boris is an excellent pilot with excellent local knowledge and Slavik speaking pilots are so much cheaper sir!" Spencer whispered, in as non critical manner as he could manage, "You signed the order yourself sir."

"Oh yes!" Sir Percy agreed, as if he had suddenly remembered the incident and just been reminded, though in fact he had no recollection at all because it was pure fiction. Spencer just liked working with Boris. Spencer had come to understand that Sir Percy paid scant notice to what he was signing.

"Oh very well!" Sir Percy said, he could see the logic of it but he did not enjoy being bested by the servants. "Be sure that the next pilot that we engage speaks perfect English and tell this pilot to get on with it! And tell the wrecking crew to demolish that ugly mess down there. It is a blot on the landscape!" One of the houses that he was referring to was Auntie Sacha's, another was where the twins lived. Spencer felt that the last statement was just pure spite.

"No sooner asked than done sir!" Spencer said, entering something on his Dudat. He was actually placing an order for the whole shanty town to be rebuilt with temporary accommodation, to be provided courtesy of the Zeli Corporation, while their town was refurbished to a liveable standard. "Please sign here sir!" He handed Sir Percy the Dudat who duly signed without bothering to read the order.

Spencer turned to Vladimir. "In recognition of your help," he told him, "Sir Percy will renovate your town!"

"Tell him that he is still a big fat ignorant bastard!" Vladimir said. "And he can keep his nasty fat hands off my home."

"What is that malodorous old vermin saying about me?" Sir Percy asked. "I'm convinced that the old vagrant was cursing me."

"If sir is referring to Mr Horník." Spencer answered. "Then the gentleman is expressing sentiments of immense pride and abundant joy at being privileged to be chosen as the local representative to explore the piscine opportunities."

"Butler!" Sir Percy warned.

"I beg your pardon sir," Spencer apologised,"You have warned me about my vocabulary."

"Huh!" SirPercy snorted.

"Mr Horník would be proud to show you where the big fish are sir." Spencer lied. "He says that you are destined to catch the very king of very big fish with his assistance sir!" Spencer answered, "the fish here are very large!" and then to Vladimir he hissed in Slavik, "I advise you to smile to him deferentially and estimate size of fish with your hands or your cottage may end up being flattened."

Vladimir smiled as effusively as his temporarily befuddled mind could manage, and he separated his hands as far apart as he could, in the confined space that the helicopter allowed him, to indicate the enormous size of the fish available, but his smile was unconvincing in Sir Percy's view, and Sir Percy waved a flaccid hand to make him stop.

Sir Percy was sceptical of Vladimir's undying devotion, but then, what did matter what the unwashed thought of him. The old man's fake smiles made Sir Percy even more determined that he was going to get the man's hovel bulldozed. Sir Percy had a sneaking suspicion that Spencer Butler was in the habit of sanitising things to reduce his blood pressure.

Quite against his better judgement, and he was sure that he had one somewhere, Sir Percy couldn't make up his mind whether this was a good or a bad thing. He couldn't decide whether Spencer Butler's intrigues impressed or annoyed him. Despite himself he rather liked this tall straggly excuse for a servant, young as he was, though he would be damned if he would admit as much. Still for the purposes of appearances, in front of so many people, he felt honour bound to admonish the verbose and servile little bastard.

"Didn't Fredding look like reverence Butler." Sir Percy speculated. "It looked and sounded more like the man was lampooning me."

"Assuredly not sir but I fully comprehend your quandary sir," Spencer replied, "the Slavik language is an, at times, abrasive and staccato tongue, which sometimes gives the impression, that when a speaker is enthusiastically demonstrating passion regarding a subject, the resultant sibilance sounds more aggressive than intended. I think that you will find that it is merely an unfortunate quirk of the dialect sir."

"You really do have a silver tongue don't you Butler?" Sir Percy thought. "But it sounds like a load of horse feathers to me." Sir Percy took a large swig from his hip flask, he felt better.

"One can only try one's best sir to explicate matters!" Spencer replied.

"But you have been warned to ditch the dictionary Butler." Sir Percy said and then started in surprise. "Oh I am a poet!"

"Indeed sir!" Spencer said though he was unconvinced of that two similar words thrown into a sentence constituted a rhyme.