hwango

The three men waited in silence, each of them mourning the lost time that they could ill afford to waste. When a servant appeared at the door, all three leaned forward expectantly. Alas, the man had merely come to tend to the fireplace, and they all slumped back in disappointment. Finally, Dr. Tooms could bear the endless quiet no longer.

"Do you suppose he will not come?" he asked, his question directed towards neither of the other men in particular.

"He had damned well better. A formal summons from one's government is not something simply to be ignored," said Luther Greaves. As the Minister for Defense, Greaves represented the government of which he spoke. As the man who had actually issued the summons, he would take the slight somewhat personally as well.

"Surely once he was briefed on the severity of the situation he would feel compelled," said Tooms. The third member of the group, Martin Renford, frowned.

"I'm sure the Minister did not include any details of substance in his summons," he said. As Minister of Intelligence, he was appalled by the very idea of including classified information in a simple order to appear before them.

"Of course not," Greaves said. "And why should I have to? It's not his place to determine whether the matter is serious enough to warrant his attention. It's his duty to appear, regardless of whether or not the fate of the world hangs in the balance."

This reminder of the stakes involved cast the three men back into gloomy silence. Some moments later a servant appeared at the door again, once again sparking their hopes and capturing their attention. This time, their attentiveness was not in vain.

"I present his honored personage, the famed gentleman explorer, Sir Reginald Hatter," the servant said, and then stood aside.

Sir Hatter stepped through the doorway and stood as if posing for a photograph in front of a crowd of thousands of adoring admirers. His smile was brighter than the flames in the fireplace, and he clearly relished being the focus of attention for everyone present.

"Gentlemen!" he greeted them, holding out his arms to encompass the entire room. "What a pleasure it is to be here!"

Dr. Tooms blinked in amazement. He was still somewhat awed to be in the presence of such high-ranking members of the government, but Hatter was clearly not intimidated in the least. Although, Tooms considered, after everything Hatter had seen in his life, government officials must seem rather mundane in comparison, no matter how highly they might rank.

All three men stood. Greaves stepped forward and extended his hand.

"Welcome to my humble home, Sir Hatter," he said. "May I introduce Martin Renford, the Minister of Intelligence," Hatter shook the man's hand without hesitation, "and Dr. Archibald Tooms. He is an expert in…certain matters of relevance." Hatter shook his hand as well, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Ah, we come immediately to the matter at hand. Excellent! So, what service might I perform for the crown?" Hatter asked, still smiling at everyone and everything around him.

Greaves gestured for everyone to be seated before continuing. "It is a matter, I'm afraid, of the utmost seriousness," he said. Hatter continued to beam at him. Greaves sighed. "Sir Hatter, you will of course recall The Island of a Thousand Skulls?"

Sir Hatter laughed. "Of course! Devil of a place to get to. Reefs, Sargasso, unfavorable winds, horrific storms, pirates, cannibals, pirate cannibals, sharks, eels, squid, carnivorous plankton, and one particularly quarrelsome albatross. Lost a whole ship and eighty-seven men, all told. But I made it, by God, and I planted Her Majesty's flag there with pride. A fine adventure, it was."

"We want you to go back," Greaves said.

Hatter's grin did not falter, but there was a barely perceptible change in his expression nonetheless, as if an inner light had dimmed. An awkward silence flourished.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand," Sir Hatter said at last, a confused frown finally chasing away his smile. "I've already been there."

"That's rather the point," Renford snorted. Greaves glared at him.

"As Mr. Renford says, that's exactly the idea. You know how to get there and are familiar with the perils to be faced on the journey."

"But I explored the whole island," Hatter said, "Ancient temples, crumbling necropolis, ghoulish monoliths – the whole thing. Never shot so many zombies on one trip before, nor since. What reason would I have to go back? I mean, you don't explore the same place twice – not if you've done it right the first time. What would be the point?"

"Are you familiar with the name Ivan Karrick?" Renford asked.

"You mean Doctor Inferious?" Hatter replied, obviously a bit nonplussed.

"Yes, though we in the government like to refrain from calling him that, since by doing so we would merely be indulging him in his desire to become an icon of terror and villainy," Renford said.

"Do you find that calling him 'Ivan' instead makes that much of a difference?" Hatter asked. Renford's face noticeably purpled.

"We’re straying a bit from the topic at hand," Greaves said, trying to restore some order.

"Indeed," Renford said, then paused as he regained some of his composure. "Reliable intelligence tells us that Karrick's latest scheme has brought him to the Island of a Thousand Skulls. Several leading occultists, including Dr. Tooms here, believe that he means to take advantage of the location's unique supernatural properties and certain upcoming celestial phenomena to facilitate the release of a being of unspeakable evil into our world from some sort of extradimensional locality, which he will then use to further his agenda of anarchy and destruction."

Sir Hatter's blank expression was heartbreaking to look upon.

"During a planetary alignment in a few months he's going to summon a monster," Dr. Tooms translated.

"Just as I said," Renford said irritably.

"We mean to send a team of specialists in to stop him," Greaves said. "The problem, however, is getting them there. You're the only person, apart from Karrick, to successfully reach the island. We want you to lead the expedition and get our men to the island so they can stop Karrick from succeeding with his plan."

Sir Hatter stared at him for a moment. "So, no exploration in actually required. You need a…a tour guide," Hatter said as if the words tasted foul.

"Sir Hatter, you must realize the importance of this mission," Renford said. "You know the atrocities that Karrick has already committed, and that he has only been stopped from doing worse due to the heroism and sacrifice of the brave men and women of this country. Well, once again we find ourselves called to action, sending our top agents on an incredibly important and dangerous mission that could very well mean the difference between life and death for every man, woman, and child on earth, and we've been stonewalled by the fact that we can't even get them to Karrick's base of operations because he's set it up in a place so unspeakably dangerous and difficult to get to that only he and one other man have ever managed to reach it alive!"

"You realize that, most likely, he's already been eaten by zombies, and this is all a waste of time?" Hatter said. Renford just sat there with his mouth hanging open.

"Sir Hatter, I'm sure you'll agree that we can't really afford to take that chance," Greaves said.

"I made several excellent maps, you know," Hatter said. "I'm sure you have many men capable of following them."

"Indeed," said Greaves, "I'm sure they could. But no map, no matter how accurate, is going to lead them there as safely as you could yourself. You alone have experienced the dangers personally. The mission has a much greater chance of success with you in the lead."

"What am I supposed to do on the island while your agents are thwarting Doctor Inferious?" Hatter said.

"Are you seriously objecting against going on this mission because you fear that you'll be bored?!" Renford said, choking the word out in obvious disbelief. Sir Hatter shrugged.

"Getting there might be interesting – not as interesting as it was the first time, of course, but it probably won't be too bad. But once we're there? Zombies. Lots and lots of zombies." Hatter said. "You know what the difference is between fighting one zombie and a hundred zombies? Shooting a hundred zombies takes ninety-nine more bullets. That's about it. They're terribly dull." Greaves joined Renford in staring at Hatter in openmouthed disbelief.

"Gentlemen, if I may," Dr. Tooms said, and then quickly pressed on before anyone could object. "The original inhabitants of the Island of a Thousand Skulls once possessed a much larger civilization. I recently succeeded in translating an ancient text that I believe traces its origins back to the island. It details much of what you found on your expedition, Sir Hatter. However, did you find any catacombs under the necropolis?"

"No," Hatter said suspiciously, "No catacombs."

"According to the text to which I refer, there should be a large network of catacombs. It's possible that they collapsed or were flooded. However…." he said, trailing off.

"They might still be there," Hatter said flatly, "meaning that my survey of the island was incomplete." He looked Tooms in the eye and held his gaze for a long while. "You're making up all of this catacombs stuff, aren't you?"

"Sir, I would ask you not to call my word into question. I assure you that I believe the catacombs were present at one time, and may still be there today."

Hatter turned his attention back to Greaves and Renford, narrowing his eyes. "If that's true, why didn't you two just mention that in the first place?"

Greaves found his voice first. "We assumed that a potential threat to all of humanity and your sense of duty to your nation would be sufficient. Why needlessly burden you with knowledge that your previous expedition had been less than complete unless it proved absolutely necessary?" Renford nodded agreement. Hatter considered the matter in silence for a moment.

"I trust the government will be so grateful for my assistance that it will be happy to fund my next four expeditions?" Hatter said at last.

"One expedition," countered Greaves.

"Three."

"Two."

"Two expeditions and a museum."

"Done."

"Done."

Greaves and Hatter shook hands as Dr. Tooms and Renford looked on in mute astonishment. Hatter's smile returned, as big and bright as ever.

"Right, when do we leave? I've got some catacombs to explore! The Island of a Thousand Skulls awaits!"