In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 166):

"Very good," replies Grimsby a little testily. "Please let me see the colonel. Tell him that Mr. Baskerville is reporting in."

The two guards seem a bit confused for a moment, then one of them just opens the door and says, "Go on in, sir."

Grimsby walks into a central foyer that extends through the entire building to the other side that faces on the canal. There's a large window there. A sofa, two chairs and two end tables have been placed down there.

At this end, just to the right of the door, is a free standing coat rack. A couple of paintings hang on the walls.

Along each side wall are three doorways, though no doors are visible. Each opening is typical of Martian architecture, at least in the cities--the doorway is wider at the bottom than at the top, thus producing a trapezoidal shape.

Grimsby can hear the sounds of a typewriter in operation coming from the first opening on the right. Going over to that opening, he sees that the room beyond has been set up as an office. A desk is on the left just inside the doorway. A middle-aged woman sits behind the desk and is typing. Just past the desk in the left-hand wall is another doorway, presumably into the next room.

Grimsby addresses the woman politely "Pardon me, I am here to see Colonel Smythe-Whittington."

Catherine accompanies her guardian, trying to look inconspicuous as she peers curiously out from under her veil and takes in the sights of Mars.
She waits outside if the guards or Grimsby indicate she should.

The woman doesn't even look up, she just nods in the direction of the open doorway.

The guards outside had no interest in Catherine, neither indicating she should stay out or go in.

When Grimsby enters the next room, the man behind the desk looks up.

"Ah! Grimsby! You're back! Splendid! Is that your ship out there? More splendid still!" the man says.

"Colonel Rupert Smythe-Whittington at your service!"

"I was just trying to determine who to send to deal with Krakas. On the one hand, I'd prefer a diplomatic resolution. On the other hand, I don't for a minute believe such a gesture could ever succeed with him. He wants to control all of Mars, no matter how absurd or impossible that would be."

In reply to Col. Rupert Smythe-Whittington (msg # 171):

Grimsby --in a way very unlike his usual self --seems a bit embarrassed, says "Of course if you feel I am the man for the job, I am always ready to do my duty, with the Krakas or otherwise.
But as it happens, I have arrived on Mars with a party of friends and my ward, Miss Catherine Harston. May I present Miss Harston?" He gestures politely toward Catherine.

"I must confess I had thought of asking if I might tale a bit of time to show her something of Mars, but if you need me urgently..." His voice trails off and his face reddens faintly.

Catherine curtsied gracefully. "A pleasure to meet you, Colonel. It's ever so exciting to be here on Mars"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to stand in the way of your duty" Catherine says quietly to Grimsby. This kind of military and political talk was rather over her head.

"Ah, so the ship isn't yours?" the Colonel replies. "A pity, that. I've never seen a ship like that, and I'm sure the Martians haven't either."

"It could be the edge to tip the scales in our favor, be they diplomatic scales or outright war."

"We've been getting signals that the Oenotrian Empire is losing interest in the war due to recent failures. Krakas apparently sees this as an opportunity to wrest control of the Empire from the Council of Nobles. We've gotten an offer from Krakas through an intermediary that he's willing to give us information on the Empire... for certain considerations. Of course, we have no way of knowing if the intermediary is valid or if Krakas is sincere."

"I was sending an emissary to the meeting place... the Ruins of Bordobar."

He stops talking then but it isn't clear if he's just pausing or waiting to see what Grimsby says.

In reply to Col. Rupert Smythe-Whittington (msg # 174):

Grimsby responds dutifully, "Since my ward has no objection, I am entirely willing to go to the Ruins of Bordobar. I agree that the ship I arrived in would doubtless be suitable for impressing Krakas. Since I do not own it, I could only ask its captain (and designer) Petras Valois, if he would be willing to undertake the mission. No doubt if Her Britannic Majesty's government was willing to offer suitable reimbursement it might induce him to cooperate. There are other travelers on board who might also be helpful if they chose to come along; they might also respond to suitable (though smaller) offers. If you could let me know what the Residency could afford on those lines, I would be happy to negotiate for their assistance."

Catherine listened curiously to the conversation. A mysterious meeting with the envoys of an alien Empire was terribly exciting.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 176):

     With the ship tied up against the stone quay (or, at least what Joseph thinks is a stone quay), and all that needs to be done for this not-exactly-a-sailing-ship to be able to rest here, floating in the water--Joseph is out on deck, leaning upon the gunwales near the lowered gangway, looking out over the dockside activity of this foreign port.

     ~~ No, not foreign... ~~ Joseph thinks to himself, as he watches all the activity, ~~ It's truly alien!  This is no obscure port-o-call in some forgotten backwater on Earth.  I am on Mars! ~~

     A sharp-sounding, almost-familiar, 'whack!' sound comes from off to the right of Joseph--forward of the ship and down the quay several yards.

     Joseph turns toward where the sharp sound came from, and sees a short coffle of four of the tall, ochre-colored natives shuffling down the gangplank off a barge tied up just ahead of Petra's ship.  Joseph can now hear the sound of their ankle chains dragging on the gangplank, as they shuffle along, each carrying a large, filled sack on their shoulders.  At the foot of the gangplank stands another Martian, some form of uniform--with metal breastplate and a cap-like helmet--who is waving around something that looks much like a riding crop and shouting at the coffled laborers in some Martian language.  Occasionally, the shouting man emphasizes some point by cracking the...whip?...across the top of a nearby whicker basket.

     ~~ Even here? ~~ Joseph thinks, frowning at the scene.

     ~~ Wait....the British are supposedly running things in this city--and the British do not allow slavery--more or less.  A Work Detail of criminals, maybe?  I'll have to remember to ask Grimsby, when he returns. ~~

     As Joseph continues to watch, the chained workers step onto the quay, deposit the sacks they carry onto a nearby wagon, then return to the barge under the sneering glare of the overseer--to return a few minutes later, repeating the whole process.

     ~~ Or....maybe that ship isn't flagged in any British controlled city...?  It's, maybe, from someplace where slavery is still used...?  I have to ask Grimsby! ~~

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 175):

Grimsby says "If the mission is urgent, perhaps you could ask your secretary to prepare my orders, with some explanation of how the situation arose, since I have been off-planet of late. Meanwhile, I could return to the ship and seek permission of Captain Valois to carry us on the expedition, and perhaps see if my fellow-travelers would be interested in going along.
My ward could either accompany me, or stay here to see what might be seen by a privileged visitor to the Residency. I believe it has a collection of Martian curios and antiquities, as well as a garden of Martian flora."

"Unfortunately, I can't offer any reimbursement at this time," the Colonel replies to Grimsby. "Things are tight right now because of the Oenotrians. I can't promise anything, but if your mission is successful, that could free up some funds."

"By all means, your ward can stay here if she so wishes. I can always arrange for her return to Earth, as well, should that become necessary."

"I have a report right here on the events in the last few months."

He hands a folder with several papers in it to Grimsby.

"Slavery wasn't the first thing I thought of, Joseph," Felicity says as she joins Joseph on deck.

"A chain gang. The kind that built the railroads. But, you might be right. This is, after all, Mars. There's something just a little bit odd...alien... about everything we can see. It's reasonably familiar but with a kind of exotic, even unnatural flavor or twist to it."

"At first, I found it a bit intriguing. Now, I'm starting to find it... creepy. Like it's preying on my mind somehow."

In reply to Col. Rupert Smythe-Whittington (msg # 179):

Grimsby responds, "I will not require any special funds, provided that my companions will provide their airship for transport. If need be, I believe I could draw on a recent inheritance, but I hope that will not be required. I also hope that this duty will not so lengthy --or so fatal --that it will be necessary for you to arrange my ward's return to earth, though of course one never knows on Mars."

"I can't say that your return isn't fortuitous, Mr. Baskerville," the Colonel adds.

"Otherwise, I'd have had to send someone who probably wasn't... quite... as qualified as you."

"I don't mind telling you that we've not a good job here on Mars. We push the Martians too hard. It's not like Africa, where it's our God-given responsibility to bring enlightenment to them. Here... well, they are already enlightened in ways I don't think we can ever understand. For the first time in my life, I'm starting to think that there's another God... a Martian God."

"Oh, I'm not saying that the Martians haven't been aggressive, but did we really try hard enough to... make peace with them? Or were we blinded by their resources?"

"Anyway... the Oenotrians are the result of that policy. We push, they push back. I think we've both come to realize that there's no endgame that's beneficial to either of us. So, we want to diffuse it before an endgame becomes inevitable."

"Of course, not everyone sees it that way. They could try to prevent this meeting... or even any positive outcome from it. Be prepared."

Grimsby answers thoughtfully, "Having spent much of my leisure -- insofar as I have any here -- in studying the ancient Martian civilizations, I quite agree that in some ways they are, or have been, sophisticated in ways we do not yet understand. Yet at the same time, I believe that whatever sharing of knowledge may lie in the future, just now we have little choice but to teach the Oenetrians to respect us by an appeal to arms  -- though if my mission can contribute to moving to a less violent solution, of course I shall be glad."

While they waited for Grimsby and Catherine to return, Aubrey looked around at the Martian city from deck.

"So, Joseph, now that we're here on Mars, what are we supposed to do? Collect a few souvenirs and go home?" he asked, not just Joseph really but the others as well.

"Is this some place one should want to live? The south of France and Tuscany are great places, and I suppose you could live there nicely if that was your inclination. Frankly, I'd be bored to death! I'm all for a great bottle of wine, but I don't want to grow the grapes! Or pick them, or stomp on them in a vat."

"I suppose I'd like to see some of the native fauna. Do we really want or need to actually meet a Martian? Any of them? I understand there are several different types. I believe Darwin used the term 'species' to denote difference between similar animals. Not that I'm equating Martians to animals. But, well, Africans and Orientals and American Indians and Eskimos and Aborigines are all the same race--Human, yet they are different species, aren't they?"

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 184):

     "Yes, of...course...they are.  All one, uh, Race, I suppose..." Joseph says, a little uncomfortably,

     "But, um, Aubrey, as for what the future holds--I really don't think too much about that.  I'm an explorer, a wanderer.  I'm happiest when I'm headed for someplace that nobody else has ever been, and then just...getting lost." Joseph adds, with a small grin.

     "Mars, for me, is an entire Planet of that someplace that nobody else has ever been!"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 185):

Grimsby explains, a little pedantically,  "Strictly, there are three races or species of Martians, the primitive flying High Martians, the nomadic Hill Martians, and the more civilized Canal Martians, like the citizens of the city where we are now docked. I believe our modern biologists like Huxley suppose that the two latter races evolved from the High Martians very long ago, but for many millennia of Martian history they have all been separate. To me, they are all fascinating subjects for study, though I am most interested in the antiquities of the Canal Martians."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 02:16, Sun 20 June 2021.

Now that Grimsby has returned to the ship, Petras, impatient to find out what the current situation now is, asks Grimsby outright.

"So, what is the situation? Can we leave the ship here? Is it safe? Can we stay in the Residency? Are there any nasty creatures in the canal?" he asks.

Grimsby replied, "You certainly may leave the ship here, Captain Valois, and stay in the Residency. The creatures in the canal are no nastier than usual -- in cities, we rarely see a water snake like the Green Koko or a sort of crocodile like the Cissawaan. Some of the smaller fish are carnivorous but they generally eat other fish, not people.
Setting that aside, I have received an offer from the British Resident which I must convey to you, captain, in particular, but also the rest of the party.  I have been asked to undertake a secret diplomatic mission on behalf of Her Majesty's Government, and by far the best way for me to undertake it would be to travel on this ship. If you would be prepared to transport me, captain, I can assure you that the British Government would amply recompense you  -- you may state your fee and I think I can assure you it will be paid -- and I should add that from the gallant support the rest of you have given the expedition so far, I would be very glad to have the help of all of you as well."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 02:29, Sun 20 June 2021.

Mathias glances around at the metal ship and smiles when he turns back to Grimsby.

"I've heard of this type of diplomacy--it's called 'gunboat diplomacy', I believe," he comments."

"Well, you've all rescued me from... if not death, then certainly slavery, and here I am on Mars, so I am in your debt. If will assist you in any way I can."

"As you may have surmised, my freeze ray pulls moisture from the surrounding air to create the ice. I am wondering just how effective it will be here on Mars, assuming there is ever any need for it. There is water in the canals, of course, so it will work well in the city, but is Mars otherwise a dry planet?"

"I've heard of some of Mr. Tesla's ingenious devices, and others that he has proposed, including his 'death ray' as one journalist dubbed it. It may be possible to reverse the polarity of my freeze ray to produce a similar effect."

"Please keep in mind that my freeze ray was never intended as a weapon but as a medical device. A death ray might more aptly be called a thermal lance, and it would have a more practical use as an industrial device for excavating minerals."

"As Mr. Solar has said, I am in you debt as well," Petras replies to Grimsby.

"Wherever you wish to go, I and my ship will gladly take you there."

"Presumably, if diplomacy fails, we can expect there to be war? Or at least fighting?"

"As exciting as the idea of going to Mars is," Brie chimes in, "now that we're here, it all seems rather anti-climactic. I wasn't expecting a marching band or anything, but what do Martians do for fun?"