Daily Report of Annek Dravess, Close Protection
Agent to Lady de Lœngbærrow.
Local date: 3/6/200545.
Special Provision during Official Visit of Lord High
President and First Lady to Elbrach Prime
8.59 am local time.
After breakfast in the Duke’s Palace, Madam
announced her intention to visit the Einkaufsturm - the ‘shopping’
complex in the central city. This was an unplanned activity as the morning
was meant to be spent viewing the Duke’s Regalia and Jewels in the
palace museum requiring no extra security provision. My men and I maintained
a discreet presence as ordered by the Lord High President, allowing the
First Lady to visit this Einkaufsturm without overt security presence.
This is absolutely against my expert recommendation. This complex has
over five hundred thousand visitors every day and is a potential security
risk.
Marion wasn’t really interested in viewing the crown jewels of
the Duke of Elbrach. She had seen the British Crown Jewels in the Tower
of London, and the saying, ‘when you’ve seen one crown, you’ve
seen them all’ was apt. Besides, she had heard about the Einkaufsturm
and really wanted to see if it was as good as the places she shopped in
Liverpool.
It was certainly bigger than any shopping centre in Liverpool. It was
considerably bigger even than the Trafford Centre in Manchester, though
not in length or width – rather in height. The dramatic name meant
Shopping Tower, though in both English and Gallifreyan as well as French,
according to Rodan who spoke that language well, it meant Shopping Storm.
The Elbrachtians obviously took their consumer speeding very seriously!
The Tower – or Storm! - was fifty floors high with
a central rotunda from which it was possible to look up at the fifty galleries
with glass balustrades protecting the shoppers from a long, deadly fall.
Above that was a dome made from a single piece of diffused concave glass
that let in natural light without the overbearing heat and uncomfortable
glare, especially at midday.
The ground floor was the food court. Marion began her trip
with a cup of coffee. To the Elbrachtians that meant a tall glass filled
with hot, strong coffee and topped with a huge ‘scheibe’ –
meaning a ‘slab’ or ‘slice’ of thickened cream.
It was thoroughly delicious. Rodan chose the same, though she had the
coffee sweetened with honey. Marion thought the bitter unsweetened coffee
was just perfect drunk through the slowly melting cream.
8.65. am. local time
Her ladyship and the child accompanying her are drinking
coffee on the ground floor of the shopping centre. No incidents to report,
but the presence of so many ordinary members of the public who have not
been vetted in any way is disturbing. I advised the Lord High President
to arrange a private visit for the First Lady with the centre cleared
of civilians, but he refused to countenance such an idea. Her Ladyship
wished to have a ‘real’ shopping ‘experience’
After coffee, Marion and Rodan headed for the spiral escalator that serviced
the first four floors. Ladies clothes were on that fourth floor After
that a glass sided lift went to the higher levels.
Rodan, of course, loved it. She would happily have ridden the escalator
all day if there were not dresses to try on. She liked the tight waists
and wide flowing skirts of the Elbrachtian daywear. Fashions on Gallifrey
at present leant towards the ‘Empire’ waist – in other
words just under the bustline for ladies, and nowhere at all for a girl
of Rodan’s age.
“If we appear at all the summer engagements in this style I think
the fashion will soon change,” Marion said to her foster daughter
as they tried on dresses with wide satin sashes at the already closely
fitted waist. “We will only buy one dress each here. Rosanda can
copy the style in her own way and so can our couturiere in the Capitol.”
Rodan agreed with that idea, though choosing one dress from so many was
hard.
“That’s my fault,” Marion admitted. “When you
were a baby I couldn’t go past a Mothercare without buying one of
every dress in the shop.”
She laughed and so did Rodan. Besides, a dress came with shoes, gloves,
a new handbag, hair combs and all sorts of accessories. There was plenty
to buy even after the main purchase.
9.72. am.
The First Lady and child spent twenty-five minutes
in the changing room of the clothing store where I was not able to maintain
visual contact. This concerned me greatly. The potential for a kidnapping
attempt is heightened in such a situation. I was forced to ask one of
the female shop assistants to check that they were safe. Apparently it
takes a long time for a woman to decide if a dress looks right. This sort
of thing is not covered in Presidential Guard training.
After clothes and accessories Marion decided to look at the fine arts
on floor twenty-eight. The glass lift was a peculiar experience. The floor
and ceiling were polarised to allow the traveller to view above and below
as well as all around. The journey was relatively slow so that the climb
up the inside of the centre could be enjoyed to the full. Marion was a
little nervous at first, but then she remembered standing at the door
of the TARDIS in orbit around a maelstrom and realised that there was
nothing to be afraid of in comparison to that.
The fine art department was a joy in itself, with paintings and sculpture
by Elbrachtian artists on sale. She had bought many pieces of art last
year on the extended tour of the dominion planets, and was keen to extend
her collection. Almost every room in Mount Lœng House now contained
at least one piece of offworld art and she had given unique gifts to all
of her friends to decorate their houses.
“Horses!” Rodan remarked, pointing to a very lovely painting
done in the style known as pointillism and somewhat resembling the work
of Monet. Close up, the canvas seemed a jumble of colours, but from an
optimum distance the impression of four horses running freely across a
wide plain was clear enough. The sense of movement was captured perfectly
by the artist. Rodan was immediately captivated.
“I wonder…” Marion remarked. “You’re never
going to get a horse painting on Gallifrey unless Kristoph commissions
it. I think we should buy that. It will look nice in the drawing room
in your grandfather’s house.”
Rodan agreed that it would be beautiful on the chimney breast above the
mantel, but that was also a reminder that she would be living in that
house again by the winter Solstice when her grandfather was due home.
Marion completed the purchase of the horse painting and moved on to look
at some statuettes that would make suitable gifts for Lady Lily and Ainyetta.
10.67 am.
The visit to the art gallery was without incident,
but the works of art bought by Lady de Lœngbærrow must be thoroughly
checked for potentially harmful substances, explosives or espionage devices.
I have therefore ordered that the parcels are taken to the guard quarters
for examination before delivery to the Presidential Suite.
“We only have another two hours before we meet Kristoph for lunch,”
Marion said as she and Rodan stepped into the glass lift again “But
we MUST check out the exhibition floor. They have all sorts of demonstrations
going on – weaving and spinning, chocolate making, leather tooling,
all sorts of crafts. We’re spoilt for choice. I think we just have
time for the filigree glass blowing, candle-dipping and spun sugar model-making.”
That was enough to command anyone’s attention. The multi-coloured
glass blown and shaped into intricate details prompted a whole new collection
of purchases for gifts and keepsakes, and so did the fabulous colourful
shapes that a mere candle could be made into by the skilled craft workers.
But by far the most fascinating exhibition was that of the spun sugar
makers. Anyone coming to this display might be forgiven for thinking they
had strayed back to the glass blowers. It was hard to believe that the
three foot high model of the Ducal palace in such intricate detail was
actually made of sugar and water boiled until it was a sticky mass and
then spun out into a filament and used as a modelling material.
All of the crafted models were amazing. Marion was especially impressed
by a four-masted sailing ship with rigging as delicate as the hand-made
lace made in one of the other exhibitions. It was breath-taking because
of its so very ephemeral nature. None of these sugar creations would last
more than a day before they fell apart. Most did not even last that long.
They were commissioned as centre-pieces for dinner parties and banquets,
to be broken apart and eaten with the dessert. The Duke himself regularly
bought dozens of smaller creations like the delicious smelling pink and
white flower baskets just as tasty treats for the Duchess and her friends
in their afternoon Salon.
Marion thought that was just a little too ostentatious. She had plenty
of money to spend on her shopping trip. She could have ordered a spun
sugar replica of any building she could think of, from the Eiffel Tower
to Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral or the great Citadel of Gallifrey
just for the fun of eating it piece by piece, but she didn’t. She
was the wife of the Lord High President of Gallifrey, but she was also
a girl from Birkenhead with a sense of proportion.
Besides, THAT much sugar wasn’t good for anyone. The Duchess was
a plump woman who had to squeeze herself into a tight corset before she
could wear a dress with any sort of waistline and even then parts of her
squeezed back out again. That was a result of too many banquets with spun
sugar masterpieces for dessert.
13.76 am.
Although there is no apparent or immediate threat,
I continue to be concerned about the exposed nature of the glass lift
in which Lady de Lœngbærrow has now travelled several times.
A sniper could easily identify her within the lift even from a considerable
distance. I would strongly recommend an enclosed lift, or, for preference,
site to site transmat under control of the Presidential Guard in future.
“Mama,” Rodan said as they emerged from the exhibition halls
and wondered what they should do next. “Can we ride the Himmelflugzettel
back down to the ground floor instead of the lift?”
“The… what?” Marion understood the language of Elbracht
perfectly well thanks to the translation radiation of the TARDIS she had
travelled in so often, but even so the fantastic word himmelflugzettel
would not resolve itself into anything meaningful for nearly half a minute.
Then she remembered a romantic evening in Copenhagen when she and Kristoph
were first engaged and he would regularly sweep her away from Liverpool
and her university studies to amazing places. On this occasion she was
literally swept away on an equally exotically named contraption called
the Himmelskibet – a swing ride in open seats that not only flung
the riders out wide as it revolved, but rose up an eighty-metre high steel
tower that eclipsed the trees in the Tivoli Gardens and even the spire
on top of the Copenhagen City Hall.
The Himmelflugzettel was on similar lines. The thrill ride was situated
on the very top floor of the Einkaufsturm. It had the advantage over its
Danish counterpart of enclosed glass and steel gondolas for the rider
rather than legs dangling in little more than a ski-lift, but it was twenty
times higher above the ground.
Marion reminded herself once again that she had stood on the edge of infinity
at the TARDIS door and stepped aboard one of the gondolas. She sat and
fastened the safety belt over her lap, wondering what possible protection
it could afford if anything went wrong with the contraption and sat back,
looking out of the window. There were trees so far below they looked like
bedding plants in a garden plot. People in the plaza around the shopping
centre were like ants.
Then the Himmelflugzettel began to move. The gondola swung and she found
herself looking at the blue sky above rather than the ground below. She
was dazzled by the brightness of the sky even before the revolution of
the contraption brought her into the full glare of the sun. But it was
breathtaking all the same, and she enjoyed the experience, reminding herself
constantly that the Himmelflugzettel had flown here for nearly forty years
already – all the time that the centre had existed – and there
was no good reason for it to go wrong while she was on it.
13.98 am.
I must register my extreme objection to the wife
of the Lord High President partaking in high risk activities such as the
riding of the ‘Himmelflugzettel’ without a security detail
checking the mechanism for possible sabotage and prior vetting the ride
operator. This was a very unsatisfactory situation and I must insist,
in future, that such activities take place only after consultation with
the Duty Commander of the Presidential Guard.
Marion and Rodan emerged from the Gondola with rather shaky legs and
a feeling that the floor beneath them was still moving, but a sense of
utter exhilaration and regret that the ride around and down the outside
of the Einkaufsturm was over.
“That was a very interesting way of getting to the bottom of the
tower,” Marion said. Rodan agreed. “We shall have so much
to tell Kristoph over lunch.”
14.05 pm
Finally, the First Lady and child are in an official
limousine being driven under escort back to the Ducal Palace. The unscheduled
and unofficial visit is over without any unforeseen incident, but I must
press upon the Lord High President the potential danger of repeating this
exercise during this offworld trip.
Kristoph read the report of Marion’s security officer while he
waited for his wife and foster child to join him for lunch. He smiled
wryly at the anxious tone of it and decided to talk to that officer as
soon as possible. Security WAS important. He knew that as well as any
Gallifreyan knew it, but there was no need to be quite so paranoid. He
was Lord High President of the High Council of Gallifrey, not of the United
States of America!
Rodan came into the dining room and hugged him before launching into a
rapid description of all the wonders of the Einkaufsturm. Marion came
more quietly and told him about the spun sugar models. Rodan made a suggestion
that made him laugh loudly for several minutes.
“No, my dear,” he answered. “I don’t think we
could build a Himmelflugzettel on the tower of the Citadel. Gold Usher’s
dignity would be utterly confounded.”
|