A new entry in the Omicron Matter – Recuperating on Skilly – Smith and his group have retreated to the remote islands off Cornwall to recuperate and regroup. John Smith and Alfred Redman have a conversation by the fire discussing the past few weeks and what is to come.
Authors’ note – This is a short chapter looking at Smith’s group. I am hoping to have more chapters about his group in this installment. I am trying to make some minor updates to the website so it holds more information. For those who are reading, I am encouraging you to take the poll of your favorite character. The winning character will get a short story.
For those who are new to the Omicron Matter, the Home page is a good place to start.
Thanks for your support and look for more tomorrow.
Conversation by the fire
John Smith nursed a drink near the fire of the cottage inn. Wind and rain lashed the thin windows of the building. Smith and Camille had taken the group to the Island of Gugh in the Skilly archipelago off Cornwall. He wanted remote and this place was about as remote as one could get and still be habitable. Heath bogs surrounded the inn’s complex of buildings. So far as Smith could tell, the primary industry was smuggling between Cornwall and Cork with the odd fishing trip or kelp harvest to legitimize the boats. As such the folk knew how to keep secrets and he was paying well enough for the hosts of the inn to look the other way. Camille’s ship was a very large secret stowed in a nearby barn.
The group had spent the last two weeks healing in one fashion or another. Alfred Redman’s knee was repaired, his leg was braced and the nanotechnology was hard at work replacing the ligaments and cartilage Jason McNeill had so callously torn. Findley Brown had recovered from his concussion and his dislocated shoulder was nearly mended. Winifred Stanhope’s recuperation would take considerably longer. Camille had provided a robotic hand as a replacement for Winifred’s lost hand. Smith and Camille had spent hours in surgery getting the device properly connected. At this point, it was up to Winifred to master controlling the device. Patience wasn’t her strong suit but she was doing the exercises while planning her revenge. Whatever worked for her was fine with Smith.
The London location had been so badly compromised, leaving was a requirement as annoying as it was. Reducing the building to rubble had also been a logical decision. There was too much information and equipment that would have raised too many questions with the local authorities. Camille was still angry with him for letting Morgaine and her crew escape. But Smith had been sent to work with Morgaine. And, if she really did have plans to the Omicron, keeping her and her crew alive could be quite lucrative. He would provide upgrades to the ship and Camille’s peripherals to appease her and if that didn’t console her, she could just crunch the numbers until it did.
Alfred Redman hobbled in with his cane and plopped down by the fire. A server came up and he ordered an Irish whiskey. Smith asked, “And how is Winifred?”
Redman replied, “She and Findley are entertaining themselves with Neville.”
Smith shook his head and took a drink and said, “I would have thought they were bored of that by now.”
The server arrived with the drink, Redman nodded and took a sip. He said, “Winifred is, but Mr. Wayland is unsatisfying and there are no alternatives for her special tastes.” Redman glanced at Smith meaningfully. He had made requests for Stanhope’s entertainment earlier in the week. Smith had summarily said no.
Smith swirled his drink and smiled saying, “Winifred will have to persevere in her deprivation.” He raised his glass towards Redman and said, “This is not London. Local boys and girls gone missing will be noticed and we are the visitors. We need to keep a low profile.”
Redman leaned back and stared into the fire and said, “I understand and I completely agree, Mr. Smith. But Miss Stanhope does tend to tire of her…toys quickly.”
Smith snorted and took a sip. He asked, “And what of yourself, Mr. Redman?”
Redman smiled, “Camille has been showing me some of your sample inventory in weapons. I shall have a grand time when we return to civilization. And as my leg allows I have been walking the paths around our inn.”
Smith raised his eyebrows, “Lonely walks on the heath in the fog and rain? I didn’t pick you as contemplative, Mr. Redman. I am impressed.”
Redman shrugged, “Tain’t been out of London except to manage the Stanhope’s young Miss. We didn’t visit the country and I was busy regardless. When I do get a chance to appreciate the local scenery, I try to avail myself. And on this matter, I was also seeing what security issues might arise. I was remiss in our previous location.”