Well, that's diplomacy for ya!!

Fertal

See, John Carter as it turns out fought for the "South" in this reality's American Civil War . . . and he remembers (and didn't forgive) England not lending more aid...

That being the case this NEXT part might be a hard diplomatic sell indeed!

By needs the best way (I and my wife) for that is to do this face to face. Alone.

What is involved in this next part is a very personal and private conversation. Basically, it . . . is playing on feelings! It's a low ploy which I fear might not work, but . . . .

Sigh.

They say that mothers are the master of it, using it to sway balky children to do what they'd like them to do. It is called guilt. We are just using a flavoring of that, and some pragmatic logic. Not enough to alienate him or turn him against us, but . . .

. . .

THIS Earth needs all the help it can get here so . . .

Basically for the "guilt" part we are calling in a favor owed to us by at least Carter and the rest of Mars, what with us having provided a MEANS for their escape to a livable world (unlike so MANY other worlds, I am horrified to find out later on). That and because of lapses in security they DID make a mess of things. Might as well at least do something in the way of cleaning up and helping, even if it is in the way of OLD surplus weaponry that WAS slated to be abandoned (left behind) to make room for designated, needed equipment and such. Had the added benefit (for what survives this upcoming fight) at it being there for pickup when he arrives on Earth!

What survives and what isn't socked away out of sight for later study by British savants, that is (but I don't say THAT one aloud).

Yes, a pile of surplus weaponry that has already been designated for abandonment . . .

That IS about as much, we elves feel, we can reasonably expect to manage out of the man (who no longer is exactly a human as we shall find out, more on that in a while)...

And if nothing else it WOULD bolster first impressions of the Earthers when the y (the REAL Martians) made the scene. Made both political sense as well as strategic sense (if nothing else weakening the invaders by a much larger margin than what could be achieved by contemporary, Earth weaponry alone).

Also, I do have a DISTINCT feeling that John here somehow likes the idea of England (finally) bleeding for him and his, after letting down his "old cause" earlier on (though he had been more than a bit surprised to realize that WE realized where he actually came from). Doing that an fulfilling a (perhaps false, perhaps not) impression that she was to have lent aid to the South . . .

Hm, thank GOD that worked enough to . . .

Well, at least we got SOMETHING and let me tell you sometimes you'd better consider yourself damn lucky to getting at least half a loaf (half of what you're after) in politics . . . or diplomacy.

And protests of being ignorant of politics and such aside, I can see wily Sherlock Holmes knows Old Blighty is VERY lucky to be getting even the dregs we managed to talk Carter into here!!

By God, I so am VERY glad that now that I have come into my rightful form I no longer have to . . . dirty myself with court politics like I had to whilst human! THAT was one of the reasons why I rather enjoyed being out on Quest more than . . . . being back home "safe and sound". Same goes for my love, Artizza back when . . .

Nevermind. At least THIS effort (while merely only a little bit sordid by playing on sympathies and such) paid good results, in the end...

Anyway, while still alone we (the Jed of Jeds and us elves) catch up on more personal matters.

Artizza

"Oh, our family is doing well enough," I smile, sipping on the tea that we'd brewed up for this discussion. At first John had been taken somewhat aback at the thought of drinking such things, after so long imbiding only Martian (or Barsoonian) food and drink. Still, he's a gentleman (even IF he worships the ODDEST of things, Aries).

Then again, to each his own. MY sister, Astra LaPost worships the old gods you know! Oh, Diana took over the head of the pantheon after the former . . . male head of that thing got . . . . castrated during that b*tch goddess'/wife's betrayal . . . . But that's old news for me and more than a few of my sisters (what OUR Aqualarias having accepted Christianity). . . .

While I see that John here had cast more than a few odd glances at Allan (and vice versa) for reasons I and Fertal know about (what having read that comicbook) he'd put it aside, dismissing it as nothing but . . .gas or something like that. No, he's telling himself, he's never met this chap Allan Quatermain before. Would not mind telling him that he HAD met him (while in that hazy half waking whatever he'd used to astral project to this world), but that . . . would only lead to awkward questions about just HOW I and Fertal had come upon such things.

Bad enough that we Champions know of the League through novels and such, that has a certain level of befuddlement and embarrassment there. Shan't want to embarrass THIS proud man, thanks! So why borrow trouble and muddy waters, eh?

Why embarrass him?

Since he does not bring it up, we shall not either!! I and Fertal will just . . . .tell Allan about that little misadventure in that penny dreadful later, back on Earth once we've quit Mycroft's service!!

He says that his wife, the princess of Helium is doing well and soon enough his son should be hatching and . . .

Seeing our blank looks, he smiles a bit and explains that along with the Green Martian females of Barsoon, the Red Martian women also are egg layers!

Laying eggs instead of giving live birth! And that means that one amnesia suffering princess (who is somewhere ELSE right now else we'd pay a visit) . . . .also lays . . .

Gee, guess that goes and shows you how appearances can be deceiving!! Yeah, we had already seen (by those tricorder things) that while human like, there were decided differences . . . .

Guess that we didn't feel a need to explore just HOW different some of those differences were!

. . .

WE almost don't overhear Carter mutter something about HIM being a real Martian now instead of a human being, else he'd not be able to sire children here. Something about that having been a shock to learn from a recent visit for some booster shots he'd only half heartedly accepted in order to prepare for the journey to the "disease ridden" Earth (the environment of Mars having been much "cleaner" by comparison).

Earlier on (while in silent mental conference behind Sherlock's back, to avoid spilling state Martian secrets or whatnot) we'd been told that John Carter had haled from Earth and all that . . . and he'd probably not want that to become public knowledge to the locals . . . .

Seems that this axiom wash thing must have mutated Carter unknowingly or something , else his son would have been an impossibility . . .

. . . .

Anyway, we soon break and return to tell of breakthroughs made and all that and while we cannot stay TOO long and John Carter himself cannot give us a tour, we do . . . . sort of use the facilities here offered.

I mean, after ALL, we still have Edward Hyde's old wounds to take care of here! You see, in the process of the League "obtaining" his services (actually gressganging him into service) one of his ears got shot off, for Heaven's sake! And we were a bit dismayed to learn that even though while in Xanth that Healing Elixir would have regenerated the ear, curing him of his wounds . It would have also (Hyde figured it out the same moment we had) that it would have cured Hyde of Hyde!!

Being that Hyde won't allow THAT we didn't press the matter at all. He'd rather die (and try to take as many of us with him) than that. Being that Hyde appears to be unwilling to let Dr. Jekyll back out, I fear we shan't be hearing complaints from those quarters, we are at least spared from that.

Hm, at least Edward Hyde appears to rather like the clothing we'd magicked up for him. Rather flashy, in a way....

Anyway, the Martian healers are able to do what Xanthian magic waters cannot do (without a fight, anyway). For a bit Hyde seems almost . . . grateful. Then he looks cross, glaring at us Champions.

WE confuse him.

And that annoys and angers him to no ends, I feel. Being what I and Fertal read in the book that isn't exactly bad and sure as Blazes beats him being murderous towards us . Still shudder to think about what Hyde did to Griffin in that second novel of the LXG series . . .

But that's something that won't happen because Griffin's back on Earth (and in an asylum, at a guess). Cannot exactly betray Earth to the invaders from there, especially since he's no longer invisible . . . .

Well, anyway, we soon shake hands with John Carter and other heads of Martian state and depart back to Earth, loaded down in the TARDIS with all the spare ray cannons (or whatever) the Martians can spare us. So GLAD that Hyde hadn't felt a need to get into a fight with the Green Martians!! That could have been . . .messy.

We get back . . .with cannons in TARDIS storage bins! . . .

Only to get something of a dismaying result from THAT, much over Mycroft's objections. OH, his superiors are tickled pink to get the advanced weaponry, but feel that the League's and OUR services are no longer needed. Basically, they figure that now that we'd gotten them these shiny new toys that they were ready . . . and being that we were so beyond their ken they felt better letting us . . . go.

At least they don't feel like silencing us right AWAY, but somehow from subtle hints dropped by Mycroft and a still rather befuddled Sherlock Holmes (his keen mind hadn't figured on the British High Military powers for being THIS stupid) . . . . that perhaps we'd better make ourselves scarce before he's ordered . . . .to silence us. The higher ups seem to have not come to certain conclusions yet, but given time . . . .

Mycroft! He calls this subtle warning giving us a sporting chance and a head start. Doesn't want to do it but if ordered he'll do his duty. Draconian, but at least he's decent enough (surprisingly) to give us that much of a warning.

So in rather foul moods we depart from the MI-5 HQ and use TARDIS. WE can take a hint, thanks!!

Packing what little belongings that both Allan and Mina have to their names (all on the Nautilus), we say our goodbyes to Nemo (who makes sail immediately). Then the Doctor, having decided after a bit of thought, steers the TARDIS to a spot some ways away from London proper. A really nice place to say our farewells to Edward (who's going to stay behind . . . . and I fear find his own ends while bashing some Martains).

See. . . . I and the others can see it in him, even though he doesn't say it. He HATES himself and wants . . . to end his life, if only on his own terms (won't give Dr. Jekyll the satisfaction). He's going to kill some Martians, official position from MI-5 revoked or not!!

He's not going to be swayed so we soon have to let him. See . . . Sigin says according to some magical readings the Good Magician took (unbeknownst to Hyde), our usual means to subdue (phasers on heavy stun or sleep spells) won't work on Hyde. Too full of rage and vile strength to be effected by THAT. We want to stop him? WE have to kill him (which'll be the same as just letting him go).

Sigh.

So we . . . bid him ado and let him leave.

After out of sight, I sigh and look around at where the Doctor has landed and though it is still night (wee hours of July 4rth) . . .

"This place . . . . looks familiar," Fertal says slowly, with a creeping dread seeing the dense forest to our back and rolling grass covered hills before us. I then bite back a groan as a shabbily dressed man warily approaches our group.

Not HIM!! Not THIS place, for goodness sake! He's muttering to himself (words overheard by sharp elfin ears as carried by night breezes), as if to try to convince himself to keep to his present (questionable) course of action.

"The stars," he whispers to himself. "They told me I should meet people."

He then yelps and falls flat on his face, tripping over something in the tall grasses that suddenly appeared with a loud flash and bang (and whirring sound)!

1. Sharp elfin eyes like mine make out what appears to be some kind of mystical, strange device with . . . a crushed and broken cigar sitting in a doll sized seat?

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