iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 11h

While our travellers in space and time repair their means of transport, a plan is hatched to raise some income.

As Eloise poured herself a glass of sangria, she came to a decision.
“How long will it take?”
“That’s a piece of string question,” Grey replied with a mouthful of patatas bravas. “The hardware side will be easy enough. It’s the software that will take the time. There are hundreds of thousands of lines of code, and he could have mucked about with any of them. It’s why we haven’t touched it yet.”
“Couldn’t you just do a restore to factory settings?”
“There is that,” Grey admitted.
“So if we’re only talking about a matter of what, a few days, why don’t we think about a side quest?”
“You mean while the commissioner is busy figuring out her next move?” asked Tim.
“I can’t think of a better time,” said Eloise. “We could slip off and be back before anyone notices. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
“Anywhere in mind?” enquired Grey.
“Not yet. We’re in no rush, and we still have the drives to sort out.”
“How about ancient Egypt?” suggested Tim. “I bet there are a few pharaohs whose tombs have never been found. Nobody would know if any of their stuff went missing.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Grey. “Ancient Egyptian stuff is worth a bit, and there are all kinds of temples and pyramids waiting to be robbed. It’s not like the ancients didn’t have form. Who’s up for a spot of tomb raiding?”

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 08/10/2026

As snakes are limbless lizards, I'm going with this snippet. Our travellers in space and time have been rescued and are shown into the Lost Temple (which is neither a temple nor lost). [First post deleted due to spelling mistake]

They walked across the courtyard towards a pair of huge bronze doors at the front of the temple. The doors were so large that an airship could have passed through them with room to spare. Eloise pushed open a normal-sized door set into one of them and went inside, followed by Lydiatt and Tim.
Within, the temple was cool, dark and had a faint smell of decay. Thin shafts of light from openings high above lit the dilapidated, faded grandeur of the interior. Finely sculpted columns graced the chamber, while exquisitely carved friezes adorned the walls. That wasn’t what caught the eye first, though. It was the statue.
It was monstrous in every sense of the word. Carved in black granite, the squatting, multi-limbed, bat-winged leviathan radiated a terrible power. Tentacles dripped from its face. Clusters of eyes stared at you from all angles. Three arms and broad shoulders supported the ceiling of the temple, while a fourth arm was held out. In its upturned palm stood a life-sized white marble statue of an elegant woman in flowing robes, holding a spear and an unsheathed sword. Coiled around her arm and the spear was a snake, while on her head she wore a golden tiara that reproduced the effect of a sunburst.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 07/10/2026

As there may well be an air frost in my area tomorrow, I’ve harvested the last of the tomatoes. This beauty came in at just over 1kg (2.2 lbs on old money).

A huge red beefsteak tomato sitting on top of a set of digital scales. The weight reads 1009g. The variety is Mortgage Lifter, bred by Radiator Charlie in the 1930s.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 07/10/2026

In "The Flipside Of Somewhen", our travellers in space and time have come up with a plan to replace an unfavourable contract with one better suited to their needs. Unfortunately, it involves one of their number hiding for a long period without being discovered. That involves a lot of waiting.

If the wait to switch the contracts had been long and tedious, what followed made it pale in comparison. Commissioner Lalande, it turned out, was not a nine-to-five commissioner. The longer she laboured into the night, Tim suspected that if there were a nine or five involved in her working day, the order was the other way round. He kept having to pinch himself to stay awake. Fall asleep at a time like this, and one sigh or a snore in the wrong place would give the game away. When at long last there came a click and the lights went out, he lay in darkness for a few minutes before allowing himself the quietest of sighs of relief. All he had to do now was get back to the others, and they could be on their way.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 06/10/2026

I had no idea and now I’m chuckling too. Gotta love those Hawaiians.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 06/10/2026

Our travellers in space and time are in the Lost Temple (which is neither lost nor a temple) and feeling peckish when there is a power glitch. One of them volunteers to investigate before sorting out a meal afterwards.

The cheese and onion pies had long gone when the lights in the Lost Temple flickered and dimmed for a few seconds before returning to normal.
“Funny,” remarked Grey. “It’s not done that before. I’ll go and check the generators.”
“Not so fast,” said Eloise. “Does anyone have the time on them?”
Lydiatt pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s five past six in the evening, local 1822 time.”
“My guess is that’s the jump to Arran, 1946. We’ve not been up here to notice whenever we’ve done one before.”
“AR units are shielded,” Recklessly pointed out.
Grey thought about it.
“Did anyone shut the door to the Temple when they came up?” he asked.
The shaking of heads indicated that no one had.
“How about the door to the AR that the sub’s inside?”
“I think it’s still open,” said Tim.
“There you are,” explained Grey. “It’ll be a power fluctuation from the jump. All the same, I’ll go and have a word to make sure.”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Tim. “After I’ve seen the commander, I’ll rustle up a meal for us. Any requests?”
“Anything but frozen pizza again,” pleaded Recklessly.
“I’ll have a rummage in the freezers. I’m pretty sure there are some curries lurking at the back.”
“I’m up for a curry,” said Grey.
“With pilau rice and bhajis,” chimed in Eloise.
“And some of those round things that shatter,” added Lydiatt.
“I said I’d get us something to eat, not wait table and take your orders.”
“Don’t forget the lime pickle and mango chutney,” ventured Recklessly
“And the raita,” shouted Eloise to Tim’s back as he left.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 05/10/2026

Planting out a new border now that the sedge in the hedge has been cleared away and made a friend.

A very bold robin within touching distance on the newly turned over earth where herbaceous perennials have just been planted. This particular robin’s red breast is more of a reddy orange colour than the scarlet you find on Christmas cards.

020

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 05/10/2026

Shore leave from the pirate galleon, and one of the crew is having a fine time.

Bobbin hummed a little ditty to himself as he ambled along the waterfront, looking at the ships in the harbour. He carried a fishing net in one hand and a bucket filled with seashells in the other. Happy to be among the first of the crew to be given a day’s shore leave, he was making the most of it. The others had done a more traditional run ashore the moment their feet had touched dry land and disappeared into the nearest drinking den the dockyard had to offer. Bobbin had other ideas: he was having a day at the seaside.
He’d had a brilliant day so far. The weather was pleasant, the people were friendly, and he’d found lots of new things for his collection. He’d only had two disappointments. The first was that there wasn’t so much a beach as a rocky shoreline hemmed in by massive, fortified sea walls. His enthusiasm hadn’t been dampened, as it hadn’t taken him long to discover that you could find more interesting things in a rock pool than you could on a beach. His second disappointment was that so far, he hadn’t been able to buy an ice cream. A nice man in a stripy apron had offered to sell him a carton of hot mushy peas, but it wasn’t the same. There was no chocolate flake.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 04/10/2026

To set the scene, our travellers in space and time have just come out of a meeting where they were briefly left alone to consider their options.

As soon as they had left Commissioner Lalande’s office and Tim thought they were far enough away, he asked the question he had been bursting to ask.
“Okay, so what was all the business about closing our eyes back there?”
“Could you see what was going on when you had your eyes shut? asked Grey.
“No.”
“Could you hear what was going on when you had your fingers in your ears?”
“Also no.”
“Then how do you know that someone didn’t sneak into the room and replace the contract on the Commissioner’s desk with one containing more favourable terms?”
“But who… Oh, I get it. You opened up another paradox. One of us goes back and does it.”
“How much time will it buy us?” asked Eloise.
“I’ve no idea,” said Grey. “Let’s err on the side of not much.”
“So what’s the plan now?” asked Recklessly.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”
“Lalande said to collect our stuff from the sub,” said Eloise. “That seems as good a place to start as any.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 03/10/2026

No petals for this snippet, but lots of flowers. The gang are in the Roof Garden of the Lost Temple (which is neither lost nor a temple) watching a planetarium show with the constellation lines turned on.

“Look at that one down and a bit to the left of where the moons are,” said Tim, pointing to what looked like a bowl of hyacinths. “What’s that one called?”
“The Hyacinths,” said Eloise. “One of the few that Grey didn’t re-name. Over there is the Tulip, the Daisy Chain and behind you is the Magnolia.”
“Chrysanthemums, ‘iyacinths, tulips, daisies and magnolias. Am I detectin’ a slight floral motif ‘ere Eloise,” asked Recklessly.
“That was the original idea. I thought it would make a change from the rams, crabs, lions and scorpions on the planet where I came from.”
“So if the others used to be flowers before Grey got to them, what are they now?” asked Lydiatt.
Grey pointed each one out in turn. “The Trampolene, the Wheelbarrow, the Milk Bottle, the Dripping Tap, the Bucket Of Water Being Thrown Over Two Dogs, the…”
“Whoa!” interrupted Recklessly. “The one over there risin’ from behind that big tree. Check out the babe with the big…” He shot a furtive glance in Eloise’s direction. “…flowers in ‘er ‘air.”
“It’s a detail taken from an illustration in the Karma Suture,” said Eloise.
“I thought that was a book about…” began Tim.
“Yeah,” said Grey. “An ancient illustrated self-help guide for those trying to fix misdeeds in a previous life.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 02/10/2026

Lacking a dent, I've gone with a hollow for this snip. Our travellers in space and time are on the move again.

High on a remote hill, tucked away in a hollow, a flash of blue followed by a garden shed-sized corrugated metal cube appeared from out of nowhere. The only witness to this phenomenon was a golden eagle soaring in the sky above, and since it wasn’t potential prey, it soon lost interest and drifted away.
The door of the Artificial Reality unit opened, and a furry face with a black stripe across the eyes peered out. Recklessly pinned a notice over the control panel and shut the door again. It read:

MINISTRY OF DEFENCE PROPERTY
DANGER
KEEP OUT

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 01/10/2026

Our travellers in space and time are having to return the submarine they "borrowed" in the condition they found it (half sunk) and pretend that they've never been away on an unauthorised trip.

Tim was putting the finishing touches to wetting down the inside of the sub when the others returned.
“Everything done?” he asked.
“I think so,” replied Eloise. “The space-time drive is back in position. Is everything done here?”
“All nice and soggy like we found it. It’s as if we’d never been away.”
“Perfect. All that’s left to do is reel in the power line we used for the jump, and we’re about finished.”
“On it,” said Recklessly.
“Remember, you’re still recovering from your injuries in this timeline, so act like it.”
“Maybe you’d better give me an ‘and, what with me terrible wounds an’ all.”
“I’ll give you a terrible wound,” she countered.
“Pack it in, Reck,” said Grey. “I’ll give you a hand. The sooner we’re back to where we were, the better. We don’t know if or when Lalande will check up on us, but we need to act like she’s on her way.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

Having used "The Compleat Visitter’s Gide to Sentennel, with Mappe" to get to the Market Square, the next step is to go shopping.

Tim closed the Gide. “What a curious book,” he thought to himself.
He crossed the Stone Bridge and, after showing his visitor permit to the guards at the Gatehouse, headed up the busy road to the Market Square. He didn’t actually walk into the square, but more sort of found a gap in the crowd and pushed hard.
The market was not so much a shopping experience as retail assault and wholesale battery. The grievous bodily harm to the wallet came as standard. Row upon row of stalls stood packed into what was quite a sizeable open space, or would have been if it wasn’t for the hundreds of stalls. What space didn’t have a stall on it had someone standing with a tray or, at a pinch, large pockets. The pressing crowd filled the remaining gaps in the same way the sea fills the ocean. There were stalls selling groceries, stalls selling ironmongery and stalls selling bric-a-brac. Stalls selling fruit and veg, fabrics, sausages, pies, fish and cheese. Stalls selling haberdashery, timber, consumer electronics, salt, oatmeal and spices. Stalls selling every commodity imaginable and all doing a roaring trade.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

In this snippet, we find out how a former university professor turned pirate/entrepreneur turns a profit.

If there was one thing he’d learnt in his short but lucrative career as a freelance alien antiques exporter, it was that people expected a treasure map to have an X on it and “Here be treasure”, or words to that effect. Experts had said that the last thing you’d see on an actual treasure map was a big X and an open-ended invitation for anyone to come along and dig it up. Amberflame had other ideas. He knew that radio-carbon dating and chemical analysis would always prove his maps to be the genuine thing. He also knew that people expected features on the map, such as “Dead Man’s Hill”, “Spy-glass Point”, or “Rum Cove”. If you could get a “Skeleton Island” in there as well, you could double or triple its value. A buyer of one of his first maps did go to the featured island and had dug up an ancient sea chest. The doubloons, ducats and pieces of eight it contained had shut the experts up completely. Amberflame had made sure it was a small sea chest and looked full, but wasn't overfilled. That ate into the profits. Besides, he had other overheads to consider.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 28/09/2026

Today's word caught an editing glitch for me, for which I'm grateful. Following yesterday's repairs, our travellers in space and time are on their way again.

They continued the wait in silence.
“Ninety-four per cent.”
There was a call on the intercom.
“We’re almost ready down here,” said Grey. “Everything’s going as smooth as clockwork. Another minute or two, and you can press the go button.”
“Thanks, Grey,” said Eloise. “All systems at this end are ticking along nicely.”
Tim wasn't sure if it was a countdown or a wind up. Either way, it was taking its time.
“The tension level is now at maximum. The display says drive primed,” said Tim.
“Right,” said Eloise. “One last check to make sure that everything is set and we can be on our way.”
Grey called in on the intercom. “All systems are go down here. We’re ready to jump when you are.
Eloise took her feet off the console.
“Okay, guys, here goes nothing. Catch you on the flipside. Three… two… one…”
She pressed the button.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 27/09/2026

In "The Flipside Of Somewhen", repairs have been made to some essential equipment, but it's still not working. Time to talk to the computer to get it to change its mind about warranties.

“I get a system violation error and the next thing I know, I’m being backed out,” said Eleven.
“Do you know what the violation error is for?”
“No.”
“Can you guess what it might be for?”
“Yes.”
“Would you tell me?”
“I think it is to prevent a breach of warranty conditions.”
“Whose? Yours or the drives?”
“The drives.”
“I think you’re right. Would you help me ask the drives a question?”
“Yes,” said Eleven.
“Would you ask if its warranty is already voided, or is it you attempting to connect beyond the low-level supervising systems that is causing the breach?”
There was a short delay. “It says the warranty is already void.”
“Would you ask if it is operating correctly, apart from the voided warranty?”
“It says it’s not fully operational because the breach of warranty has compromised its integrity.”
“Ask what the breach of warrant was, would you, Eleven?”
“It says it can’t comply because it doesn’t recognise my authorisation.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 26/09/2026

Another snippet from "The Compleat Visitter’s Gide to Sentennel, with Mappe", this time on the subject of one of the islands's pubs.

“The latter Inn is situate onn the Waterfront near to the Stone Bridg. Accordinge to traditionne the name of this inn derrives from the habitt of merchants and traders who, when they wanted to nippe off downe to the pub for a quick pinte would tell their wives that they hadde importtant businness to attende to and would mutter somethinge about organisinge a ‘trippe to Meluhha’ – Meluhha being a specious distant land whose fabulouse wealthe is welle known to sailors. There are manye legendes tolde about the streetes of Meluhha being paved with golde, and more than one observer has commented that if its streetes are realley paved with the stuffe, it can’t be worthe that muche over there and added that if a merchant adventurer wanted to gette seriously riche, they should saile withe a cargoe of cobbles and flagstones. Interestingley enough, severall expeditions have sette out withe huge quantities of cobblestones in their holdes, but none have ever returned. Whether this is because they settelled over in Meluhha with their newe founde wealthe or sanke before they reached there is the subjeckt of manye frequent and noisey debbates fuelled by the nutte-browne ale for which the inn is also famous. Another pointe worthe mentioning is that the ‘Olde’ part of the name has nothing to do withe the antiquitey of the inn, but owes its originne to the wives of the merchants and traders who would saye ‘Don’t give me that olde Trippe to Meluhha excuse againe’.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

For this snippet, I have another extract from "The Compleat Visitter’s Gide to Sentennel, with Mappe". This entry is about the island's currency.

“How much are the apricots?” Tim asked.
The woman looked him up and down. “Two laters and ninepennies a bushel, please.”
Tim paused. “Excuse me a moment,” he said and opened the Gide to Sentennel at the page Eloise had marked for him.
“There are maney differente curencies in circulatione on the island, due mainley to its promenence as a major internationnal tradinge porte. However, the visitter to the island should take speciale notice of the ‘Please’, which is an indetermenate coine of variable value whose onley purpose is to assist traders in relievinge the unwarye visitter of large quantities of other coines and is deliberateley meant to misleade and be confusinge. For example, if you were to buye a loafe of breadde you might be tolde ‘That will be sixe penneys, please,’ and receive far less change than you were expecting. The seasonned visitter who knowes of this ruse should reply with the traditional ‘Thank You’ and receive the correct amount of change. A thank you is another indetermenate coine also of variable value and is directly equivalent to a full cashe discounte of one please. (Note: the Bankes do not give exchange rates for pleases and thank yous as they refuse to deal with non-standard curenceys). Even comparativeley unskilled traders can easily and legally overcharge naïve visitters, while truly skilled ones have been known to relieve visitters of virtually all their money and still not sell them anything.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

Despite all the meddling with space and time that goes on in "The Flipside Of Somewhen", I've had to use the thesaurus for today's snip and it suggested "intrude". This is from the very beginning of the book, when our two travellers meet each other for the first time.

Tim stared at the intruder, who looked like an actor from a period costume drama based on a novel by Jane Austen or one of the Brontës. He extended a finger and prodded the man in the ribs. The reassuring solidity meant he was not dreaming, the spontaneous arrival of a wall of tapestry notwithstanding, but that only raised more questions.
“You’re real?”
“Most assuredly,” said the man and held out a hand for Tim to shake. “The name’s Lydiatt. Dr Charles Lydiatt. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
This threw Tim, but at least the man was being polite.
“Tim,” said Tim. “Tim Leigh.”
They shook hands. It seemed the thing to do.
“I hope you will forgive my intrusion. Would you be so kind as to tell me the year, month and day? I need to check my calculations.”
Tim, not knowing what to say, said nothing as he was trying to come up with a rational explanation for what was going on. The man continued.
“The year, month and day, if you would, sir. If my philosophical studies and practical experimentation on the nature of time and temporality are substantively correct, which I believe they are, I already know more or less where I am. What I need to know is when I am.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

Early in "The Flipside Of Somewhen", our two travellers in space and time come across an apparently abandoned galleon at anchor. On further investigation, they can hear voices behind a locked door.

“I can’t see a key,” Lydiatt said to Tim. “You’re going to have to break the door down.”
Tim took a short run up and shoulder-charged the door. It held. He picked himself up and tried again. Wood splintered, but the door held.
“It looks a lot easier when you see it done in films,” said Tim. “This is hurting my shoulder.”
“One more go should have it,” said Lydiatt.
“Both of us this time. On three. All set? One… two… three…”
The pair hurled themselves at the door. With a crash, the door flew open, and they tumbled through and fell over the tied and bound raccoon that sat on the floor nearest the door.
“Bleedin’ ’ell. Tread all over me, why don’t you?” it complained.
When it spoke, Tim stumbled backwards in panic, tripped and fell again. At around five feet or so, it was by far the largest raccoon he had ever seen. Its sheer size alone would have made it extraordinary, as would its ability to speak, but it was what it was wearing that most rattled Tim: a light green waistcoat over a loose-fitting, long-sleeved white satin shirt, black velvet pantaloons, brown ankle boots and a red bandanna.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 22/09/2026

I needed a synonym for meltdown so have gone with this. We have already been to the port of Sentinel with an earlier snippet. This is an extract from a vintage guide book — "The Compleat Visitter’s Gide to Sentennel, with Mappe". Available in all good book shops, a century ago.

“This is a stone arche bridg with a 22 feet spanne and 13 feet 6 inche betwene each parapet, withe about 8 inche of fill over the arche ring. The parapet and spandrill walles are in good conditione, but the arche ring is unsounde, there being two crackes about 2 feet from each face, running practicalley the whole waye around the intrados. These crackes appere to be due to undue presure on the spandrill walles. Attentione to these crackes is required from tyme to tyme, and it is the author’s humble opinione the bridg will collapse within twentey yeares unless it is rebuilte.”
Tim peered over the side of the bridge and saw several large cracks, held together by what looked like a multitude of metal staples. Considering that The Compleat Visitter’s Gide to Sentennel was supposedly a hundred years old, the bridge seemed to have outlasted the prediction by at least 80 years. The bridge, it turned out, spanned the wide, deep moat at the foot of the imposing fortified curtain wall that surrounded the harbour. It was filled with something watery, though it was difficult to tell because of the crust of thick, greasy brown scum that covered its surface. Tim felt that if you fell in, you wouldn’t come up smelling of roses. You might not come up again, ever.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

Our various travellers in space and time are on the roof garden of the Lost Temple (which is neither a temple nor lost), watching a planetarium show of an eclipse of two moons during a meteor shower. Why, you might ask. Well, it's a long story...

“As I understand it,” started Lydiatt, “a bolide is a particularly large meteor that…”
“Would someone shut the professor up?” asked Recklessly.
“Actually, I’m not a professor,” Lydiatt huffed. “I am a doctor of…”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Recklessly. “You’re missin’ the show.”
High overhead, the larger moon had completely obscured the smaller one and had turned a copper colour as it passed through the artificially generated shadow of the world they were on. Before long, the smaller moon began to emerge on the other side, and it too acquired the same reddish hue. Hundreds and hundreds of meteors now streamed across the sky. The brighter ones hurled themselves so hard they exploded in spectacular bursts.
Gradually, both moons emerged from the eclipse and returned to their usual colour. The meteor shower continued at its dazzling rate for a while longer, but it too began to tail off.
“Incredible,” enthused Lydiatt. “Absolutely incredible.”
“Yeah, it were pretty good,” agreed Recklessly. “‘Ave you got the one where it’s a total solar eclipse and an aurora ‘appenin’ at the same time?”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 20/09/2026

In this snippet, our two travellers in space and time have been rescued by a mysterious stranger and are making their getaway from Admiral Amberflame's galleon.

Tim and Lydiatt rowed. A few hundred metres out, they passed over the reef into the open sea.
“Okay, you can stop now.” Eloise picked up a small metal box that had been lying in the bottom of the dinghy. It looked like a biscuit tin with the lid taped on with black masking tape, which is what it was. She leant over the side of the dinghy and held the metal box underwater.
“What are you doing?” asked Lydiatt after a little while.
“Rescuing you,” she said, rattling the box.
“Ah, this is some obscure definition of the word ‘rescue’ that doesn’t appear in standard dictionaries,” muttered Tim loud enough to hear.
“Be patient. It is supposed to be a virtue, you know.”
A few minutes later, a periscope broke the surface of the water and scanned around. It stopped when it was pointing at them. Eloise gave it a wave.
“I’d love to say I told you so, but as I didn’t say anything, I can’t,” said Eloise. She rattled the biscuit tin at Tim. “It’s got ball bearings and nuts and bolts in it. When you shake it, it makes a lot of noise. Rattle it underwater and you can signal submarines, if they’re listening. It was safer to use than a communicator or a radio: the wrong furry ears might have been eavesdropping and found out our location. I told you I was rescuing you.”

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

I have been chopping Etna chillies, which as the name might suggest, are on the hot side🌶️🌶️🌶️ Having been caught out before, I have washed my hands three times already. Tempted to go for a fourth as I quite like being able to see without burning eyes.

A box containing small, red chilli peppers and a large red paprika pepper in the middle.

020

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

I'll admit that there's an homage to the HHGTTG in this snippet. To set the scene, our travellers in space and time have crash landed on a deserted tropical island and been forced to spend the night on the beach.

There was no escaping it. The first light of the new day had got steadily brighter and more impossible to ignore. On a normal day, Tim would have snuggled deeper into his pillow and pulled the duvet over his head until he was ready to get out of bed and face the day on his terms. As it was, sleeping on an uncomfortable, lumpy beach with sand getting into the most unexpected and improbable places didn’t lend itself to having a lie-in. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, dusted the sand from his hair, rubbed his eyes again, stifled a yawn, coughed, choked and then noisily cleared his throat of grit. Groggily, he made his way down to the foreshore, past the long grey metal tube, waded out up to his knees and splashed water onto his face to wake himself up properly. As he stood letting the waves lap around his legs, he became aware that something was wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew it was important. Something he should know about, or at least be aware of. The word “torpedo” wandered through his mind for a moment, looking for something to make a connection with. The torpedo halfway up the beach was quite a big one. He turned and stared at it.
“Grey,” he thought.

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Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 18/09/2026

Onboard the vintage submarine that has been "borrowed", two older engineers discuss the timeline for its restoration.

Come Friday afternoon, work on overhauling the diesel engines had made good progress. If they continued at this rate, Recklessly reckoned they would have them finished ahead of schedule. He said as much to Grey, who thought it over.
“Good,” said Grey. “In that case, I’m calling an official halt to proceedings. We’re having the weekend off. We can start back on Monday, fully refreshed.”
“What?” blurted out Recklessly, almost dropping the fuel pump assembly he was holding. “You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t know about you, but I need a day or two off. I’m not as young as I used to be. My back is getting stiff and my knees are giving me gyp. We could do with a break.”
Recklessly’s mind was racing. This wasn’t part of his plan. He needed to stay on board until they’d either included him in their plans or, at the very least, given him a lift off this miserable rock. If he were no longer on the submarine, he might bump into people he’d rather avoid: people who would break your legs first and ask questions later about when you were going to repay them.
“But, but,” Recklessly stammered. “We ‘ad an agreement, mate.”
“Oh, I get it,” chuckled Grey. “This is about overtime payments.”

0130

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 17/09/2026

Our two travellers in space and time have been taken prisoner by Admiral Amberflame.

“Excellent. I find it makes such a difference when people cooperate,” said Amberflame, absent-mindedly brushing a non-existent speck of dust off his jacket sleeve. As he turned to address his crew, he saw the door open and the formerly desperate bear return.
“Ah, just the fellow. Bobbin, I want you to guard the prisoners. If they try anything that looks even vaguely iffy, you have my full permission to hurt them. As for the rest of you, I want six people to come with me to check the cargo. Everyone else is to go with Sparky,” he flicked a look sideways to the chubby hamster in the rugby shirt, “and make preparations to sail on the next tide. Look lively now.”
The crew trooped out, leaving Tim and Lydiatt alone with the bear. Tim tried to smile at it to appear friendly, but the gag he was wearing hid his efforts. The bear came over to him.
“If yous need to go to da bathroom, yous can’t until da boss says so.”
The bear went and sat on a barrel. After watching them for a while, it reached into its back pocket and pulled out a comic book. From time to time, it peered over the top to check that Tim and Lydiatt weren’t up to anything they weren’t supposed to be doing, like trying to escape.

1150

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

This #WIPSnip explains how someone who sticks out like a sore thumb can walk around without raising an eyebrow in "The Flipside Of Somewhen".

“Hold on a second,” said Tim, “and I don’t mean any offence by this, but how did a large furry bunny manage to wander around asking questions without drawing attention to himself?”
“Easy,” said Grey as he took a pair of dark glasses out of his pocket. “I put these on. No one noticed.”
“The real explanation,” said Eloise, “is that the human race is now a card-carrying member of the Galactic Community and has been for some time. Offworlders on Earth are nothing new, and that includes large furry bunnies.”
“And presumably squirrels, tigers, raccoons and bears,” said Lydiatt.
“If you mean Amberflame and his crew, then yes,” said Eloise. "Don’t make the mistake of thinking of them as actual Earth tigers, raccoons and the like, only bigger and more talky, because they’re not. They come from alien worlds and belong to alien races, and only happen to look like what you call a tiger, a rabbit, a raccoon and so on. It has something to do with parallel evolution.”
“But where does Amberflame fit into all this?” asked Tim.
“He was Professor of Spacio-Temporal Engineering at the University of Altair III,” explained Grey. “That was before he had a fundamental disagreement with the university about the size of his salary.

0151

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 15/09/2026

For this snip, I've included a little something from "The Flipside Of Somewhen" about the Lost Temple, which isn't quite as it appears (and isn't lost and isn't a temple).

“I designed it myself,” explained Eloise. “It’s loosely based on several architectural styles and cultural influences, mostly Mayan, Inca, Indus Valley and Babylonian, but with a bit of Pharaonic Egyptian, classical Greek and other odds and ends thrown in for good measure.”
“Are you telling me that you had all this made to order?” asked Lydiatt
“Yes,” said Eloise. “Nice, isn’t it? I’m particularly pleased with the stepped shape of the central temple. It took ages to get it to look just right.”
“It’s gigantic,” exclaimed Tim.
“If you’re going to build a monument, either go big or go home, and as this is home, I thought I’d go even bigger.”
“I do hope you’ll forgive me for saying, but it looks like it could collapse at any minute,” said Lydiatt. “It’s a ruin.”
“It might seem like it’s about to fall down any moment now, but it only looks that way. In fact, it’s very solid. I had special effects people and exterior designers come in when the builders had finished to distress it to make it look like it’s in a bad way. I think they did quite a good job, don’t you? The decay in the gatehouse doors is a nice finishing touch. The specification has them appearing to suffer from eleven different kinds of fungal rot and thirteen varieties of insect infestation. They aren’t rotten, only made to look that way. It’s the attention to detail that makes all the difference.”

0120

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

Our travellers in space and time are getting to the bottom of how something that couldn't possibly work actually works, and are in a bit of a hurry to get themselves out of a situation they have landed themselves in.

“Look, you said it was a space-time drive,” Eloise continued. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but it looks like a self-contained unit to me.”
“It is,” said Grey.
“So if it is self-contained, it has to have an onboard power supply.”
“Ah,” said Grey, “I can see where you’re going with this, but there’s a problem. This here is a sealed unit, and there’s no socket or whatever to charge it back up that I can see. It has been used twice, which would have taken a lot of energy. All the power packs that I know of with that sort of energy couldn’t fit in a box this size, and that’s without all the other gubbins inside. The leap in technology with this thing is astonishing.”
“I wasn’t thinking of recharging it,” said Eloise. “I was wondering how much life there was left in it.”
“Let’s see if we can find out,” said Grey.
He tapped at the buttons beneath the small display panel.
“It isn’t good. This baby is almost drained.”
“How big a jump could it do? I guess we’re not talking centuries or decades, but what are we talking? Years? Months?” asked Eloise.
“Try hours.”

1160

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

It's Synonym Sunday for today's snip from me. On shore leave while the galleon is repaired, one of Amberflame's crew spots something familiar.

He found a bench to sit on and wondered where all the ships had come from and where they were going. As he surveyed the scene, one ship in particular caught his eye. It was different from the others in that it was long, black and sat low in the water like it had half sunk. It looked a lot like the one that had got him into trouble not so long ago, but that was in another time on a different planet.
“Nah,” he thought, but he picked up his bucket and fishing net and went to have a closer look at it anyway.
Thirty seconds later, he was running as fast as his legs would carry him to get over to the other side of the harbour and back to the Flying Cloud. He thundered up the gangway and ran around the deck in search of Amberflame.
“Where’s da boss? Where’s da boss? I gotta tell him da news.”
Without waiting for an answer, he plunged below decks and ran around there shouting, knocking things over, and generally causing mayhem. Disturbed by the commotion outside his cabin, Amberflame stuck his head round the door to see what was going on. Bobbin saw him and dashed over, upending a barrel of ship’s biscuits as he went. Its contents scattered across the floor and crunched underfoot as he ran.
“Boss! Boss! You’s not goin’ to believe what I just seen.”

0160

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

I find myself short of "wedge", but do have a slice of pizza, which is wedge shaped. Food has been ordered, but what has arrived is not what was expected. The pizza is okay tho'.

“Well, at least the pizzas aren’t undercooked, burnt or cold, so I guess you ought to be grateful for small mercies,” said Grey. He produced a well-worn Swiss Army knife from a pocket, selected a blade and started cutting the mangled pizzas into segments. “‘Scuse fingers,” he said to Tim. “My hands are clean, and anyway, rabbit diseases can’t be passed on to humans. Except for liver flukes and myxomatosis.”
“Ignore him, he’s having you on. Everybody knows that rabbits can only pass on ringworms,” remarked Eloise.
Tim froze in mid-bite, a look of consternation on his face.
“Joke,” grinned Eloise.

1171

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

In the Scriptoriumn today, the scribes have been shown a new design for a $5,000 banknote.

A $5,000 bill in the style of the Futurama episode "Three Hundred Big Boys". It shows the hands of Bender the robot holding a green banknote with Nixon's head in a jar replaced by Donald Trump.

020

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

In "The Flipside Of Somewhen", our two travellers plus accomplices are up to no good in space and time.

“Open it up and see,” said Tim.
Inside was a familiar-looking shoebox-sized prototype with flashing LEDs and a control panel.
“Bring that with us,” said Eloise. “I’m starting to have an idea. Everyone inside. Recklessly, see if you can disable the door so that we’re not disturbed.”
“On it.”
Once they were all inside, Recklessly began to dismantle the interior door control panel.
“Should ‘ave this done in a jiffy. We’ll be safe enough for a while, but best not tarry if we can ‘elp it.”
“This idea of yours, Weezie. Care to let us in on it?” asked Grey.
“Use that thing to cut short our obligations to Lalande,” she said, pointing to the box that Lydiatt was carrying. “I’m still working on the details. We know it’s good for two big jumps and a little one. It’s enough to buy us some time. We can figure out how to recharge it later.”
“This idea of yours has a lot of figuring it out later in it.”
“I’m working with what I’ve got. Do you have any better suggestions?”
“Figure it out later is good enough for me.”
“Right. Let’s see what state the sub is in.”

0100

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

In "The Flipside Of Somewhen", Admiral Amberflame and his crew arrive at the island of Sentinel. The galleon he has "borrowed" is in need of repair after the prisoners he was holding escaped.

“Good morning, sir. Welcome to Sentinel,” he said to the large tiger in the scarlet tunic and the large black hat with the cockade of blue feathers. With a get-up like that, he didn’t need to ask which of the half dozen people on the bridge was the admiral.
“Good morning, young man,” said Amberflame. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Mr Wherrythole, your ship’s designated Harbour Assistant for today. There are a few formalities that need to be attended to, sir, but it won’t take long. If I could start with your name as captain, the number of passengers and crew, how long you intend to stay for, and whether you are here for business or pleasure.”
“My name,” said the tiger lying through his teeth, “ is Captain Hesperus Swainbyre. I have no passengers but a small crew of twenty-seven loyal, hard-working sailors. As to whether we are here for business or pleasure, it is neither. I regret to inform you that we are here for emergency repairs.”
Spurgeonbuckle paused writing and looked up from his clipboard.
“Emergency repairs, sir?”
“We had the misfortune to hit an uncharted rock. The damage is above the waterline, but it must be righted before we can continue our voyage.”

0171

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

In "The Flipside Of Somewhen", we've already found the untethered rowing boat floating loose in the surf. Now, our two travellers have to figure out what to do with it.

“What do you think we should do about the boat?”
“Drag it completely off the beach and hide it. We don’t need it at the moment, and we can always come back later and collect it.” Lydiatt grinned. “On second thoughts, it might be an idea to bring it with us.”
“Why the change of mind?”
“It’s a jolly boat.”
“I don’t think I’d describe it as jolly. Quaint, maybe, but not…”
“A jolly boat,” interrupted Lydiatt, “is a small boat towed or carried on a ship. This one came off a three-masted ship called the Flying Cloud. Lateen rigged on the mizzenmast and square-rigged on the foremast and mainmast. A merchantman, not a warship, in case you’re wondering.”
Tim looked impressed.
“You can work all that out from one rowing boat? Why didn’t you say that yesterday?”
“Because yesterday I couldn’t see the galleon lying at anchor off the headland behind you. I know it’s not in full sight, but I’m surprised you haven’t already seen it.”

0170

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 08/09/2026

Having accidentally arrived on an apparently deserted tropical island and been captured by Admiral Amberflame's crew, our two travellers are now bound and gagged on the floor. However, rescue is at hand.

As he lay on the floor, Tim became aware that Lydiatt was trying to attract his attention by nudging his leg. He twisted as best he could to face Lydiatt, who directed his attention towards the door. Tim craned his neck towards the door and realised that the handle was gradually turning. Slowly but surely, the door began to creep open. When it was open far enough, a head peered around. Tim made quick mental notes. Human. Female. Wearing a wetsuit. Late twenties/early thirties. Short dark hair cut in a bob. Not exactly drop-dead gorgeous, more sort of drop-severely-wounded gorgeous. Carrying some sort of pistol.

2121

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

Having been rescued from the deserted tropical island, our two travellers are being taken for cocktails and a bite to eat.

“What’s a Napalm Sundae?” asked Tim.
“You don’t know what a Napalm Sundae is?” gasped Eloise.
Tim and Lydiatt both shook their heads.
“You’ll be telling me you’ve never heard of the Witch of Endor next.”
Tim and Lydiatt both looked blankly at Eloise.
“Wow! Here we are in the sixteenth century, and you guys haven’t even lived yet. Have you been missing out or what?”
“So? Who and what are they?” asked Tim.
“The only way to explain is to show you. You’ve both got a lot of catching up to do. We’ll go straight to the top of the temple and put matters right this instant.”
“What? Up there?” said Lydiatt, pointing at the precipitous flight of steps that led up the steep face of the temple. “I’ll die of exhaustion before I even get halfway up in this heat.”
“You can climb the steps on the outside if you want to,” said Eloise. “I was going to use the elevator inside.”
Lydiatt began to speak, but Tim interrupted.
“We’ll use the lift, if it’s all the same.”

0120

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 06/09/2026

Having become stranded on a deserted tropical island with no idea where or when they are, our two travellers come across something of interest.

They had been walking for an hour or so, and the sun was getting low in the sky when Lydiatt pointed to something in the distance.
“What’s that?”
Tim scanned the broad, curving strip of white sandy beach to see what had attracted his companion’s attention. “What am I looking for?” he asked.
“About two hundred yards up the beach in the surf,” said Lydiatt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a rowing boat.”
“Stone the crows, so it is”
They ran towards it. As they got close, Tim waded out and grabbed hold of a rope on the bow of the boat to pull it ashore.
“Look, there’s a name on it,” Tim remarked. “Flying Cloud. Where did it come from? I can’t see anybody around, and there are no footprints here apart from ours.”
“It could be a ship’s boat by the look of it. Perhaps it came loose in a storm and has been drifting.”
“I don’t know much about boats,” said Tim, “but this looks like an old one to me. Doesn’t that strike you as odd if we’re supposed to be in the future?”
“Not really,” stated Lydiatt. “When I was a youngster, I used to watch the boats on the river. There are differences between them, I admit, but not that much when you get down to it. Not rowing boats anyway. Ships are a different matter.”
“So you’re saying it could have been made any time. That means we’re still no nearer to finding out when we are.” Tim sighed. “Oh well, such is life. It would have been far too convenient to have found a copy of today’s newspaper folded up under the seat.”

0182

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 05/09/2026

In yesterday's snip from "The Flipside Of Somewhen", a four-poster bed had just materialised out of thin air. Today, we get to draw back the curtains and go inside.

The doorway led into a small, panelled compartment lit by the warm glow of an oil lamp hanging from a bracket. There was hardly enough room for the two of them to squeeze in, and the low wooden ceiling made it feel even more cramped.
“It’s pretty close in here,” Tim noted. “I’m glad I’m not claustrophobic.”
“I had only myself in mind when I designed it,” said Lydiatt. “It is a little tight but adequate for my needs. The separate movements that make up the whole of the engine take up every available inch of space.”
As he spoke, Lydiatt slid one of the interior wooden panels to one side. “Behind each of these are assemblies that govern an individual aspect of the engine. This one, for instance, regulates the main assembly.”
Tim peered into the dark recesses of the hatch. In the poor light, he could make out some kind of intricate machinery nestled snugly in the cramped space. He reached past Lydiatt for the hanging oil lamp and brought it closer to the hatchway. As the light glinted off bright metal parts, Tim turned to Lydiatt.
“It’s clockwork!”
“Of course it is,” huffed Lydiatt. “What were you expecting?”

0151

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 04/09/2026

At the beginning of "The Flipside Of Somewhen", a four-poster bed (curtains closed) from 1822 has materialised out of thin air. Now inside what is definitely not a four-poster, this improbable event is about to take a turn for the worse.

As Tim spoke, a loud creaking sound came from beneath his feet. The temporal engine they were in shifted.
“What was that?”
“I’m not sure,” said Lydiatt.
They both listened intently. An ominous low groan was coming from somewhere beneath them.
“The room we’re in,” asked Lydiatt. “Does it have a solid floor?”
“Solid floorboards. This is an upstairs room.”
“In which case, we have a serious problem.”
Tim didn’t like the sound of this. “What do you mean ‘we’?”
“I don’t think this floor is going to support the weight of my engine for much longer. The noises we are hearing, unless I am very much mistaken, are the floor joists about to collapse. If that happens, my engine will be smashed to pieces. We have to act quickly.”
Lydiatt slid open one of the wooden interior panels.
“You see the brass handle in there? Start cranking as fast as you can. I’ll set the controls to get us out of danger.”
Tim grasped the handle.
“Which way does it turn?”
“It only goes one way; it’s on a ratchet. Now get winding,” ordered Lydiatt.

0130

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 03/09/2026

This scene probably needs to be put in context for it to make sense. I'll take a chance and not explain what's going on, apart from to say that sometimes it's better to ask questions first.

“No doubt you are wondering how we came to be caught in such an awkward predicament, and I want you to know that I haven’t the remotest intention of telling you.”
Amberflame paused, glanced at his now-released crew and allowed himself a knowing smile.
“I have my reasons. I’m sure you will come to understand in the fullness of time, which you will have plenty of now that you are our honoured and esteemed prisoners.”
It took a moment for Tim to catch on to what he meant.
“Eh? Wait a minute.”
“No minutes, no waiting,” said Amberflame. “Get ’em, lads.”
At the tiger’s command, the furry horde pounced, burying Tim and Lydiatt under a writhing mass of grappling and pummelling. Tim somehow got an arm free and lashed out at the raccoon, whose face happened to be in the way, and landed a sharp blow below its right eye. They struggled and thrashed in a vain attempt to fight off the mass of animals. Unfortunately for them, the inevitability of the old-fashioned but effective military tactic of vastly outnumbering the enemy soon meant they were overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers. Manhandled by the larger and more brutish members of the crew, they were trussed from head to foot with tight ropes and unceremoniously dumped on the floor. The raccoon, nursing a swollen eye, sauntered over to Tim and trod heavily on his ankle.
“No ’ard feelin’s, mate,” it said, “only I couldn’t be leavin’ it uneven.”
Tim winced as pain seared through his ankle. “I quite understand,” he gasped.
“That’s all right then.”

1151

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 02/09/2026

In the Scriptorium today, the scribes have found a recipe for crunchy egg salad bagels. The secret? Leave bits of egg shell in.

An article from Apple News for crunchy egg salad bagels. The picture shows a heap of egg salad with finely chopped onions and chives on top of a beefsteak tomato, which in turn is resting on top of half a toasted bagel. The whole lot is sitting on a white plate. To be fair, it does look quite nice, but it’s the crunchy egg part that puts me off. It sounds like it has bits of egg shell in it.

010

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 02/09/2026

"The Flipside Of Somewhen" was written ~35 years ago and never published. It's a sort of time travelling Hitchhiker's Guide / Spellsinger mashup (see — that comparison immediately dates it). I have long-held doubts about its merit.

Lydiatt reached into the recess and began to feel around to release them. After some muttering, he began to remove the generator module.
“Do you want a hand with that? It looks heavy,” offered Grey.
“Would you mind? I’ve done it before by myself, but it was an effort.”
Between them, they got the component out and rested it on the ground. Lydiatt stuck his head into the recess and peered through the crack in the board.
“There’s something in there that’s not supposed to be. I can see rows of little red and green lights that keep going on and off. They’re nothing that I put there. I have no idea what they’re for.”
“I’ve got a sinking feeling about this,” said Eloise.
“Same here,” said Grey. “We’d better find out what we’re dealing with.”
Getting the board out turned out to be easier than expected. A screwdriver inserted into the crack lifted one half enough to get fingers under it. Tugging and swearing removed it. With the board out of the way, Grey peered into the cavity.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
He lifted out a black metal box the size of a shoebox. On the top was a bank of red and green LEDs flickering on and off, above a small display panel and four buttons.
“All I can say,” said Lydiatt, “is that I have no idea what that is or how it got there.”

1120

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 01/09/2026

I'm going to snip from something different for September. This was written decades ago (yes, you read that right) and put away in a drawer and forgotten about until recently. It might well end up back in the drawer, metaphorically speaking.

Lydiatt had long since got up, washed, dressed and stomped around the submarine to find a MechTech to tell it to go and cook him a full breakfast. He’d waited in the Lost Temple for over an hour for his meal to arrive and had finally given up and gone to find the MechTech again to find out what had happened. It was in the galley that he found that the MechTech had indeed cooked a full breakfast. Nothing was undercooked or burnt. All the right things were there, and in the right order. It was served on a clean plate which had been placed on a tray with a knife, fork, serviette, rack of toast and pot of orange marmalade with a serving spoon and pat of butter. There was a pot of tea, a teacup, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar lumps, tongs and a spoon to stir with. The only problem was that it was all stone cold, except for the pot of tea, which was now tepid.
Lydiatt ran the conversation he’d had with the MechTech through his mind again to see where he’d gone wrong. He had told the MechTech to cook him a full breakfast, which it had done to perfection, as he could see. He had told the MechTech to put it on a tray, which it had also done, and told it that he would be in the roof garden of the Temple. Ah. There it was: the flaw, the fatal breakdown in communication. He would be in the roof garden, but he hadn’t asked for the food to be brought to him there.

1120

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 31/08/2026

I'm starting to realise that there are quite a few scenes involving food in "Pass The Duchy". This time the new duke has gone to the Green Griffin café for lunch.

“One Duchy rabbit and one tea. Anything else you’d like? I can recommend the Black Forest gâteau. Chef uses kirschwasser.”
“Good for chef,” said John. “Why anyone would use anything other than kirschwasser is beyond me.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what kirschwasser was or why anyone might use something different, but it seemed an appropriate thing to say if it was a selling point.
“Some people use rum when they can’t get hold of it. It shouldn’t be called a Black Forest gâteau if it doesn’t have kirschwasser in it, in my opinion.”
“Put me down for a slice.”
“Very good, Your Grace. The kitchen’s a bit slammed at the moment, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can. I’ll bring the pot of tea out first, so you’re not waiting.”
The waiter, who John saw was also called John from his name badge, finished clearing the table and returned moments later with the tea in a ceramic teapot decorated with poppies, a matching jug of milk and a mismatched cup and saucer. The cup had primroses and butterflies on it, and the saucer was Indian Tree pattern and was chipped.

0141

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 30/08/2026

At the inauguration banquet, the new duke is getting to grips with the menu and which wine accompanies which course.

John didn’t know if this was a general comment or somehow aimed at him. The waitress came around to take his plate away. This was enough of a distraction for him to talk to Captain Harnett again.
“I’ve been told the food we’re having is what they served on the Titanic before it went down,” said John.
“So I’ve been informed, Your Grace. The last course is served with Champagne, so there shouldn’t be any problem with a shortage of ice.”
The waitress reappeared by John’s side, notepad in hand.
“Which soup would Your Grace prefer? Consommé Olga or cream of barley?”
“It’s not made with real Olga, is it?” asked John.
“It is a clear broth with scallops.”
“Cream of barley, then.”
“Would Your Grace like Madeira or Sherry to go with it?”
“I’ll stick to the Champagne for now.”
“Champagne doesn’t go with the cream of barley.”
“Champagne goes with anything if you drink enough of it,” he replied.
“Would Your Grace like more Champagne?”
“No, thank you. Make it a small glass of Sherry.”

0120

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 29/08/2026

It's Synonym Saturday for "adept" in "Pass The Duchy". Details about rumoured financial impropriety have begun to emerge. They revolve around the duchy's cryptocurrency, which doesn't exist.

Emerson collected John from reception and took him down to the data centre. There, he showed him to a workstation.
“What do you reckon?”
On the screen in front of them was the home page of a website. It said “DucX — The DucatCoin Xchange” and had a picture of a quacking duck. Ds with two vertical lines in them were coming out of its beak.
“This is it,” said John.
“It wasn’t exactly easy to find, but it wasn’t exactly hidden either,” said Emerson. “At least not for those who know where to look.”
“How did you find it?”
“Partly my expertise in search algorithms, partly my unique knowledge of duchy systems. Mostly it was poking around where I shouldn’t and a bit of good luck.”

0110

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 28/08/2026

Continuing the new duke's tour of the duchy with a synonym today. Madge has taken him to the café at the top of the mountain.

The view from the chalet took John’s breath away. From their vantage point on a balcony overlooking the duchy, John could see the town of Vallonné nestled in the valley far below. It was the sort of view you would find on a picture postcard. Spectacular is one word that comes to mind, although stunning, dramatic or magnificent would fit the bill. The coffee wasn’t bad either.
“So tell me,” said John. “Why did they build the chalet here and not on the other side by the observatory? It would have come in handy if the astronomers wanted to nip in for a cuppa. Extra trade and all that.”
“There’s no snow on that side,” explained Madge. “Well, not enough to ski on. This is the side that gets the weather.”
John reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of the maps he’d bought.
“Can you show me where we are on this?”
Madge opened it and turned it around to orient it correctly.
“We’re here,” she said.
John took the map and stood on the edge of the balcony. Once he’d got his bearings, he could work out where things lay.

060

Mark Weaver @markweaver.bsky.social · 27/08/2026

The soon-to-be duke has questions about the regalia to be worn at the investiture.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace. If you’re looking for Mr Pirbright, I’m afraid he’s already left.”
“Do you know what time he’ll be back?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Do you know where he’s gone?” asked John.
“I also couldn’t say.”
“Couldn’t say because you don’t know or because you don’t want to tell me.”
“I am not aware of Mr Pirbright’s whereabouts at present. I expect he’s checking on last-minute arrangements for your investiture. For the avoidance of doubt, I should point out that this is speculation on my part. I am not his assistant.”
“Would you know anything about the ducal regalia?”
“It has been taken from the museum to the abbey for tomorrow, now that the coronet is back from the jewellers. It had to be refurbished after moths got at the velvet.”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to be seen in public with a moth-eaten coronet. I take it the robes or whatever don’t have holes in them.”
“As far as I am aware, there were no issues with the rest of the ducal attire. If there had been, I’m sure Mr Pirbright would have attended to it.”

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