Kitty Wittgenstein and the Sinister Society of Southpaws (7.1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

In which Newton gets a second look, the universe picks a side and things go poorly for the Proclaimers

7.1 Plummeting With Proclaimers

(note: to go to the beginning of the story, go here, to see all Chapter Seven posts, go here and to see all Sinister Society of Southpaws posts, go here)

About an hour or so later, I was plummeting to Earth behind The Proclaimers. I’d been hurled from some kind of low-orbit space cannon, operating on dimly understood mathematical principles. The plan was that I’d land somewhere in Zimbabwe, from where I would begin bringing down the Sinister Society of Southpaws.

I had in my hands a folder containing the intelligence that The Dexters had gathered. It also, presumably, contained some kind of plan. I hoped it was a good plan, because at the moment I had a few issues with how things were going.

For one thing, I was persona non grata in Zimbabwe. A long story that went back to an unsavoury incident with Mugabe, a chocolate-covered banana and a baboon during an advertising campaign for the African games. Officially, the government of Zimbabwe had a warrant out for my arrest were I to ever set foot back into the country. Unofficially, I had a feeling that being arrested might be the least of my problems should I be noticed.

The other problem I had with this high-altitude drop into a rogue country for which I was an enemy of the state was that I was doing so without a parachute. While I’d been assured this wasn’t going to be a problem, I had to admit that I remained sceptical.

“How long until we land?” I yelled at one of The Proclaimers. Charlie? Craig? I could never tell them apart. Neither of them had parachutes on either. This was supposed to be some kind of evidence that the whole ‘plummeting from low-orbit down to Earth’ gambit was perfectly safe.

I wasn’t convinced.

The Proclaimers had long been known as one of the most dangerous pairs of black-ops agents in the world. Their bespectacled exterior concealed two of the most brutal, fearsome minds I’d ever encountered. I’d dealt with them several years ago during that whole ‘Eugenic Genie’ incident. And they’d left a scarring impression.

I know that The Ministry of One-Hit Wonders had long regretted letting the twins slipping through their fingers. The fact that they were on my side in bringing down the sinister society gave me a little hope. Certainly, I’d rather have them with me than against me.

The Proclaimer heard my question, despite the breeze whistling past us. The wind wasn’t as strong as I’d thought it might be. Perhaps because somehow, as predicted, we didn’t seem to be falling with the full force of gravity. I didn’t begin to understand how this worked, but I vowed to find out later.

Assuming I survived all this, of course.

“About twenty-five minutes, I proclaim,” he said.

Twenty-five minutes seemed a long falling time. But then, we had started from an insanely high position. And we were somehow falling slower than gravity would normally allow.

“Thanks,” I said. I flipped open the folder and begin to read. If I had twenty-five minutes to kill, I could easily spend twenty of them taking in as much knowledge as I could. Because once on the ground, I had a feeling I wouldn’t have an awful lot of time.

I yelled back to Charlie. (I was going to assume it was Charlie until proven otherwise.) “Let me know when there’s five minutes to go,” I said.

“Aye,” he said. He gave a thumbs up to accentuate the point.

And then, without warning, was hit by the full force of gravity. He dropped out of sight, accelerating into tininess below us.

“Craig!” shouted Charlie.

And then, equally suddenly, Charlie dropped too.

I put the folder back in my jacket. I had more urgent issues to deal with.

Like Sir Isaac Newton and gravity.

I knew being shot, sans parachute, out of a space cannon by a mass-murdering group of right-handers had been a dumb idea.

(to be continued)