The Quantum Curators and the Fabergé Egg

to smear clean her palms on the thighs of her trouser. She sighed deeply and swore. Now she was going to have to hunker down and wait until someone came to get her. She heard sirens getting closer; their lights flashing in the dark skies. That was her cue to leave, and she walked over to the bridge and waited with the crowd that was beginning to gather. All around her people speculated excitedly. Had she seen anything? Was that gunfire? Had she heard anything?

Stupid bloody shit flies. Time to go and find some French Fancies whilst she waited to be evacuated.

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The Quantum Curators and the Enemy Within

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The Quantum Curators and the Enemy Within

Chapter One

My name is Julius Strathclyde and I might be dead. This is my story.

I waded through the freezing water. People surged past me crying, others grabbed my arm demanding to know if the way ahead was blocked. Their voices bounced weirdly off the rising water levels and flock lined corridors. An old lady in a beautiful chiffon gown held a small lap-dog aloft, a fur stole wrapped around the top of them in some futile attempt to stay warm.  I removed my dinner jacket and draped it over her shoulder, tucking the stole underneath. The dog snapped at me, but she scolded it and pleaded with me to help.  We began to make our way to the outer deck when I remembered my mission. She held on to me, begging me not to abandon her. Ignoring her cries, I turned and fought against the tide of other first-class passengers, struggling through the water. A man pushed past, ushering his wife and children along. Without my jacket, he had mistaken me for staff.  Or maybe he had spotted my shoes earlier in the salon. I had tried to explain I needed Oxfords, not Brogues, but the guys back at base hadn’t believed me, that such a minor issue would be important. But maybe they had a point, given that I was up to my waist in arctic water.

I struggled past the crowd until their voices fell away and continued marking the cabin door numbers. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, the floor shuddered and I felt the boat tilt further.  I could hear distant screams and shouts, somewhere a violin was playing, but here in this corridor all was quiet. Just strange mechanical groans echoing along the structure, the water muffling everything else. My shoes slipped on the carpet and I had to grab on to the balustrade, my arm plunged into the water, and I could see goose fleshed skin through my sopping sleeve. As I got to Cabin 15, I tried the door, but ridiculously it was locked.  Who, whilst fleeing for their life on a sinking ship, locks the door? I pulled out my lock picks and realised with horror that they were nice and safe in my jacket pocket, which was now on its way to the lifeboats.

Feeling a little foolish, I saw I would have to open the door with brute force. Running at it wouldn’t work as the water was now waist level. I tried the door handle again, just in case. Definitely locked. The lights on the wall sconces flickered. Trying to do this in the dark would be a pain until I remembered my wrist brace and flicked on the torch. When the lights went out, I would be ready. I looked up and down the corridor, which was now empty of people but full of rising water. Strange items floated on the surface, a hairbrush, a child’s doll. At the end stood a solid metal fire extinguisher.  Only to be used in case of an emergency. Well, I think this counted.

I hitched it off the wall and returned to the door of room fifteen, which contained the jewel encrusted Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.  The sole purpose for my presence.

Heaving the extinguisher out of the water, I smashed it into the upper half of the door.  In a rush, the door gave way. I fell into the room as the water from the corridor surged past me, levelling up the room beyond. My ribs smashed onto a table and I ended up in a heap on the other side of the room, along with the other furniture that had all been swept forward in the wave of water. By the time I got to my feet, the water had equalised and was now up to my chest. I cursed myself; I hadn’t anticipated that the door would have kept out so much of the water. My entire body was beginning to shake with the cold, but I had to get to the book. There was a distant metallic groan as the ship twisted further.  The floor was now almost at a 30-degree angle and the water was pouring in through the door.  I hopped and swam to the far wall, wrenching the