“Tribelium Plated?”
“Fine mate.”
Biggs allowed the driver to scan it then he inputted his 16 digit multi pin. The transaction concluded.
“Do you want a paper receipt?”
“No, that’s fine.”
The driver gave the card back to Biggs.
“How long is the trip?” asked Biggs.
“So you’ve never travelled with surreal before?”
“No.”
“We should be there in no time at all. Possibly after the next short scene with Puffgarden and Arthur.” He closed the doors, bade Biggs to sit down, opened another surreal travel portal and drove through it.
Arthur looked at Puffgarden who had just entered the darkened room. “This is reminiscent of a few chapters ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was being pun-tortured by D’ark.”
Puffgarden bit his tongue because he didn’t want Arthur to know that he didn’t like the name D’ark and also didn’t want him to know that he could get wound up about it. Didn’t, didn’t, didn’t.
“I wobt you do anser dom quebstions,” asked Puffgarden in a most un-understandable way because he had bitten his tongue too hard.
“You have a strange accent Puffgarden, is it Eastern European?”
“No.”
“German?”
“No.”
“Russian?”
“I am here to question you,” said Puffgarden in a more understandable way because the blood flow had returned to his tongue.
“I want to know if you are of the right social class to question me. After all Vladimir D’ark was a Colonel and a Varangian Lord.”
YOU ARE READING
Romancing the Drone
Science FictionArthur is now working for British Intelligence in the romance dimension. A foreign power has captured a cutting edge surveillance drone and he must recover it. Of course things would be easier if it didn't have a mind of its own.
