To avoid the dangers of The Ethereal stood the ever vigilant Custodians of the Lord God’s Word. Tireless,  Evaluators of Sins and Blasphemies, Dispensers of Justice.

Officially.

Custodian Vernünftig had dispensed with this view of the entire Custodial Office. Therein could be found quotas of time-servers, bombasts, opportunists, and fanatics; each adding their own handful of grit into the workings of the Imperial Machine and the Ecclesiastes in particular, through the Sin of Wilful Stupidity. He worked with a pragmatic dictum. Get the job down sensibly you will survive and possibly succeed.

Which made him valued and sent to deal with difficult, often dangerous matters. He could not make up his mind where this current deployment fitted.

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A small princedom, not very strategic. One lordship within likewise, the noble puzzled more than flustered, welcomed his arrival.

The village did not exude any of the nascent or obvious threats he had grown to discern. The hill was some what abrupt as if someone had put it there to make a point, but not of sufficient dimensions to loom and brood.

‘I can make out the cave Guv’nor,’ Zwanglos said peering through her eyeglass ’Leastways whatever passes for one,’

Respectful to him, eye for detail and spirited. Her common of city speech, barely reverential to the official dictates and naturally her gender barred progress to Custodian. A loss. She would remain his assistant, A Tildelte. They were greeted by a clutch of villagers and the local Translator of The Lord God, a small man who seemed to be bearing the problem with but mild irritation.

‘Good Revered,’ he said as Vernünftig dismounted ‘Has anyone briefed you about the curious events emanating from that cave?’ he gestured with thumb over shoulder in the direction Zwanglos was still addressing with an eyeglass.

‘My Brother in Calling,’ Vernünftig  began, and the Translator nodded at the implied sarcasm ‘Was sparse in his report,’

‘Makes a change,’ Zwanglos volunteered ‘Ol’ Geschwollen usually won’t use ten when a hundred will declare his importance,’

‘To be precise,’ continued the Translator ‘He went up the hill, with Holy Book and Staff declaring loudly for the presence to be gone. There was an even louder ‘Be Gone You’, stuff was thrown out and down he came, rolling most of the way. His book and staff are still up there. White as swans he was. He’s recovering, somewhere, safe,’

Zwanglos fidgeted.

‘Can I get up the hill an’ retrieve ‘em Guv’nor?’

‘Yes Tildelte. But you cannot keep them,’

‘Spiffle,’ was the only audible word. He could guess the rest of the litany. While she was off, Vernünftig continued to converse with the Translator.

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‘So then. How did this all start?’ he might as well have been discussing unexpected early blooming of spring flowers, his preferred approach.

‘A traveller came through. At first we thought he was a bit lost and offered shelter. But the pest snuck out at night up the hill. The first we knew was a sudden bright light from the cave a loud cry of ‘Be Gone thief,’. By moonlight we saw him scampering off westwards never to return. It was never much of a cave more like a dent, one for shepherd to huddle in when it rained. When all that happened. Well I notified Custodian Geschwollen,’ a grimace ended the account.

‘His expertise,’ Vernünftig said, with little solemnity ‘Is more in ensuring adherence to the minutiae of religious decorum,’ he observed his Tildelte’s progress, she had the staff and the holy book ‘I fear he underestimated the problem,’

She had stopped some three quarters of the way, crouched behind a rock then directing her attention to the cave called out.

‘Wotcha! Got time for a chat?’

The illumination was bright even in daylight, the reply ‘Begone’ a boom which unsettled the escort and their mounts, Zwanglos ducked as a shower of small objects erupted from the cave.

‘Please yerself,’ she retorted and pausing to scoop up some of the missiles made an orderly retreat.

‘It’s very deep cave Guv’nor,’ she said on return and began to comb small items  out her hair.

Vernünftig, with the eyeglass studied the cave entrance, his practiced eye noting the slightest of hint of two outlines, between which was a greyness. He concluded the larger of the two outlines was the usual which the folk saw, its lighter shade indicating shallowness; therefore the deeper dark was an entrance within an entrance which had recently arisen and he did not doubt leading to some Ethereally bound location.

‘Acorns,’ said Zwanglos, offering him a handful for examination.

‘They are blue,’

‘Noteworthy that. All back to the Age of Conceits. Many experiments going on then. Some reckon as to why The Ethereal Arrived; because of footling about with cheap machines. Dunno why blue acorns though, no records about nowadays. Another thing,’ in her other hand were slender metal objects curled down at each end, since she was getting more animated Vernünftig let Zwanglos continue unabated ‘Now these. Legendary. Staples,’

‘Staples? That’s a new word on me,’

‘Definitely Age of Conceits stuff. You load them into a device. Push paper or parchment into it, thump it, and they fix all the papers together. The LifeGuard probably got one,’ she shrugged.

‘How do we know about them?’

I found out footling about in that old archive of archives, when we was investigating them heretics of Fraud’

‘Oh yes. Very tiresome,’

‘Not so bad,’

‘For you. We need to reflect and approach matters in the dawning,’

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Before sunrise the pair made a cautious approach, Zwanglos with her prize, the staff, Vernünftig never felt the need for one, he indulged her.  At the rock Vernünftig halted and called out in a stern, calm commanding tone.

‘Sir. A word with you please,’

There was a pause before the expected demand for him to leave.

‘No Sir. I cannot do that. You are causing upset to the local folk by your sudden, albeit understandable actions. I am obliged therefore to request your discourse,’

There was a silence, Vernünftig felt whoever they were they were thinking over matters. Always a tense interlude.

Then the voice boomed ‘No’

At the first inclination he was diving to cover, counterpointed by Zwanglos standing up staff pointed at the cave entrance.

Objects of varying sizes appeared, just as she yelled ‘Nah ya dont’ and blue flared from the staff, meeting the objects which halted and fell to the ground at the cave’s entrance.

Vernünftig viewed his Tildelte with mild paternalistic censure.

‘You are not supposed to be able to do that Tildelte. Yet, while whoever is shocked scuttle up there and get as many of those objects as you can,’

‘Takin’ me staff,’ she said with heavy dignity.

By the time she was back unscathed, and laying out her booty Vernünftig had made some evaluations, he viewed the variety.

‘What are these?’

‘Treasure Guv’nor. Safety pins. Erasers. Pencils. Sharpeners for Pencils. Plugs – lucky he didn’t have a basin. All sorts of small stuffs,’

‘Thank you Tildelte,’

He strode forth calling out.

‘Sir. Please cease. We have come only to discourse. Know you that you are in another time?’

There was another silence.

Then the voice came out questioning.

‘Another time? How say you? On what assurance have I?’

‘Well come forth?’ and to Zwanglos

‘And you Tildelte put that staff away. It will make the fellow nervous,’

A smallish man came out of the gloom, he was dressed in functional clothes of greys, before his eyes rested glass framed in metal. He peered out.

‘Oh my goodness. What happened to the city?’ he looked up ‘The skies are uncommonly clear. I hear not the sounds of war. All is actually calm. I thought they had come to steal and destroy? Thieves in the night,’

Vernünftig altered his pose, a slouch, hands into pockets, ironic grin.

‘My dear sir. We have much to discuss and educate each other on. We must talk, here and now. We will not be interrupted,’

There was a muted grumbling behind him.

‘Gladsome day Guv’nor. It starting rain and we’re gonna have to sit in the open while Master Mystery has the comfort of a cave,’

‘Be stalwart Tildelte. Our service often requires our discomfiture,’

She had a feeling he was making her squat in the rain for unauthorised use of a Custodial Staff. She pulled up her hood.

‘You have the evidence of your own eyes, ears and nose,’  Vernünftig reasoned ‘Time and circumstances have taken away those surroundings you knew. Were you not aware of the passage of time? Master?’

‘Thaddeus Greylane,’ it seemed as if the fellow was unsure how he felt about the name ‘I am an archivist. Not of wonderous things but the small items which mean much to ordinary folk. It is not a profession with great reputation. Yet, when The Ethereal arrived and under the weight of its implications came the subsequent failure of innovations which had been deemed necessary, then perceptions changed. It seemed as if everyone with any motivation of preservation was trying to store items and information,’ and this point he shrugged ‘And it all came my way. Small objects, books, memory containers, poured, into my offices. There was no help either. So many people were involved in survival, machinery and fighting. The influx was such that I fear my offices sunk somewhat, in a gentle way, which I assumed to be through causes Ethereal, until eventually I was blessed only with artificial illumination. What else could I do, but carry on my work, it was either that or go quite mad,’

‘I see you point,’ Vernünftig said in all sincerity, a not uncommon outcome when in pursuit of or the maintenance of knowledge. ‘Were you aware of detailed events?’

‘I could not say for sure. All measure of days passed by. I had some idea that frightful matters were taking place and unearthly creatures were abroad, but no one or nothing threatened me. I continued and itemised some fifty -seven thousand, four hundred and thirty two major items, each with their sub-categories, averaging fifty-two and then there was the issue of classifications,’

Vernünftig conducted some mental maths.

‘Your archive must be vast,’

‘When one relies on clerical records, yes,’

The man’s whole demeanour had quite relaxed, Vernünftig thus pressed on.

‘Thus came the day when you were aware of someone?’

‘Indeed, a furtive, vulgar air intruded. I was alarmed, all my hard work being pilfered. Not being a person versed in weaponry, I threw disposable things, and tried to sound in authority,’ he peered around Vernünftig ‘I fear your assistants caused similar alarm, although this one less bombast and more protective,’

Zwanglos managed a feminine smile and brief wave.

‘She is young, enthusiastic and loyal. I fear my predecessor lacked diplomacy,’

The fellow had obviously been thinking over matter.

‘So much change, in surroundings, dress, accents. How much time has passed?’

‘The Ethereal,’ Vernünftig began as it seemed common ground ‘Was and still is a vast field for study. You may have travelled through and not passed centuries,’

‘Oh my,’

Zwanglos had squelched up.

‘Ethereal takes a bit of getting used to,’  she said ‘That said. Since you could throw lots of pins and things around I reckons you got Ethereal in you, therefore could be quick on the uptake,’

Vernünftig clapped a hand on her shoulder, she sagged.

‘Splendid idea Tildelte. You will stay here and exchange information with Master Greylane. You are ideally suited .It might take a year or so, but will be good and worthy work,’

He began to pace down the hill.

‘Where you going Guv’nor?’ she demanded.

‘I am going to find that wretch who started this, learn what he knew and what was his purpose,’

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Greylane addressed his puzzled attention to her.

She had to admit such rummaging did sound compelling also bringing the fellow up to date. And she kept the staff.

‘Firstly. Can I come out of the rain?’ she asked, adding ‘Why blue acorns?’

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