Henry Vickers stood at the railing of the airship’s massive gondola and let his eyes roam across the expanse of London. Above him, the great bulk of the airship Unicorn held steady in the winds. Nearly a quarter mile long, it was shaped like a broad, thick arrowhead. Above his head, the faint violet glow from Gravitum plates revealed the modern technology which operated in tandem with helium to provide buoyancy. Gravitum plates also provided propulsion with no waste products. Gone were the giant fossil fuel-burning airliners of yesteryear. In an age of enlightened energy, Unicorn reigned as the cleanest air transport in the history of Man.
The times had changed from when Vickers was a boy. It was a very clean time for modern humans. The government said so. But some things never changed.
Some people still didn’t trust the government.
Vickers rounded the bend of the gondola where passengers roamed to sight-see. He found his friend, P. W. Fullerton, standing at the railing with a fishing pole. The reel was quiet large since it was easily 500 feet down to the waters of the Thames. Fullerton, in his usual uniform of grubby outdoorsy clothing, pulled hard as he reeled something in.
“Good to see you doing something normal,” grinned Vickers. “No need to dig through the marshes in search of government malfeasance?”
“Oh I’ll find it,” grunted Fullerton. “Right there in the Thames.”
“What? The Thames has been crystal-clean for twenty years! Parliament declared it.”
“Parliament?” Fullerton rolled his eyes. “Oh that sets everything to rights doesn’t it? You know here’ve been two water-borne terrorist attempts to destroy London with nuclear devices between 2022 and 2028. Two! And both bombs were in the Thames.”
“But they recovered one,” countered Vickers. “And MI-5’s counter-terrorism unit doubted the other bomb ever made it to the water.”
“They both leaked and irradiated the water.”
“Parliament never said that. What proof is there?”
Fullerton finally reeled the fish in. He pointed at squirming, oddly-shaped creature on the line. “There’s your proof!”
Vickers winced at the fish. “Well I’ll grant you, a fish with four eyes is unusual. But is that really proof?”
Fullerton’s eyes bugged. “What else do you need?”
The four eyes of the fish suddenly rolled towards them. “Begging your pardon,” said the fish. “Could you blokes spare a Kipper for the hungry?”
______________________________
It’s good to be back to writing. I’m feeling well-rested.
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. Look here for the original prompt and a blue link to other stories based on the prompt: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/01/24/sunday-photo-fiction-january-24th-2016/
The government says this is a specially genetically modified fish bred to look for terrorists in the river.
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Haha! Yeah, I wonder how many folks swallowed that “hook line and sinker.” 😉
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Love the funny twist, that despite living downtown, the fish is actually POLITE! Wow, that must have taken serious mutations. 😉
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Hehe. Maybe some of the downtowners should be irradiated? Then again, this is an English fish, you know. Stiff upper lip and all that. 😉 Thanks much, Joy! 🙂
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If …government says…believe the opposite! This is like a real life story. 😁
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No kidding. If the government claims it then, “trust but verify?” This is actually based on a lot of real life news stories. The safety of oil well fracking comes to mind… 😉 Thanks so much! 🙂
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I love the old fashioned names with the new dangled technology. Damn Parliament….
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Ha! FANGLED…fat fingers or autocorrect? The world may never know.
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I’m putting my money on “auto-correct.” That stupid feature has “corrected” me into “error” more times than I can count.
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Hehe. I wanted very “British” sounding names. And yeah, it seems the British Parliament — based on what I hear — is little better than our self-serving Congress. Thanks much! 🙂
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That fish is normal. The government said so. I love this story. Good to have you back Eric.
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Hehe. Yeah, if the government says it’s okay, then it is, right? 😉 Thanks Al. It’s good to be back. 🙂
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