Review time!
Guest: Glad to see you still enjoying it all! Nice to know that you've stuck with it from the start, and I hope it's been enjoyable every step of the way!
AaronCottrell97: I don't know if you can tell or not, but James is one of my favorite characters to write as a whole, especially considering that this is where Angelis's James starts to get wonderfully hammy. Both characters are amazing. Rediscovering the joys of Micheal Angelis pretending to be a dog is just one of the many positive to doing this series.
MattPrice01: Thanks! Oh, I am blushing! I'm glad you noticed! I'm sort of picturing a sort of Benedict Cumberbatch/Christopher Lee/Idris Elba voice in general for the Malevolence. Something nice and deep and cultured, but can turn on a whim to being nasty.
Reality Rejection Service: Such is their role in life. James should stop making it so damned easy!
Phillip Clarke: Thanks mate! It was removed, but I appreciate it! Hope you enjoyed despite the error!
Game-Watch: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking the Malevolence so far, primarily because I always love the larger than life villain that he embodies. You'll be seeing him again before the season is out. The James insult is great. I'm surprised how legitimately funny a lot of the quips from Season 5 are!
On that note, Gordon and the Gremlins! Full of some nice comedic stuff, a bit of a average episode in my opinion (Then again, average Classic Thomas is amazing anyway) apart from the introduction of the Dowager, who is just a blast. I will note that some of the story parts are a little...expositiony. So, just keep that in mind and have some fun!
CUE THE THEME.
"All right class." The teacher wiped his brow. Not for the first time he wondered why it was he had chosen this job and not something far safer to one's sanity, like a guard at some remote Arctic base where the only thing he had to worry about were polar bears. "Now, what were we talking about last time?"
"The school trip!"
The teacher grit his teeth. "Yes, well done, clever old you for remembering, and for the record, yes, we are in fact going to London." God help the capital, he thought grimly as cheers rang out. "But, I meant what did we talk about that actually relates to what we're supposed to be learning?"
"The kings, sir!"
"Correct, Stephen." The teacher grinned, slightly maniacally. Clearly, the Hatt's generous donations to the school weren't going to waste. They were actually teaching his grandkids something. As for the rest of them- "LUCY, STOP CARVING THOSE WORDS INTO THE CARRIAGE DESK!"
"Why? It's true, and me mam says to always tell the truth!" Lucy stuck out her tongue. The words, transcribed exactly, were as follows: DARREN'S MOUTHER LOVES CO-
Well, you can fill in the blanks, can't you?
"You've misspelled mother." muttered Darren.
"OKAY, ENOUGH ABOUT DARREN'S MOTHER." The teacher paused, collected himself and smiled once again. "Now, the king in question, I believe, was our greatest, in my humble opinion! King Godred Crovan!"
...
"Look, you've made an honest mistake! I don't know anything about your f**king crown, and if I did, I'd have told you!" Carlin was worried by the way that the room had somehow cleared out like magic in three seconds flat.
King Godred smiled. It was an odd thing to notice, but Carlin thought he had rather nice teeth considering the standards of dental hygiene in this time. "Really? You expect me to believe that?"
"No, not really. So, how does this work? Can I challenge you to trial by combat?"
"What do you think this is?"
Carlin had a second to think of several expletives too searing to put down upon print before Godred lunged at him.
...
"Now King Godred was many things. For the time, he was a learned man with a great respect for women!"
...
"GET OUT OF HERE, WHORE!" Godred roared to the poor serving wench who had entered the room with a basket of something. She ran out of the room faster than anyone Carlin had ever seen.
"That's not a very nice thing to call a woman!" Carlin called. In retrospect, considering that he was currently being held upside down, one very large and powerful hand around his ankle, this was not the best thing to say.
...
"He was known for being a very peaceful and very nurturing man, too. Such wisdom."
...
Carlin screamed as he began to back away from the crazed axe-wielding king as best he could. So far, Godred had destroyed the entire table, Carlin's pointy viking helmet, any sense of pride that he might have had in his fighting abilities...he had even come very close to becoming castrated quite painfully.
"Come back here, thief!"
"NO THANKS!" Carlin reached the door, opened it up...and was prodded back into the room by the sharper ends of spears. "Hmm. Well, I changed my mind, you know?"
...
"And let it not be said that Godred was a fool when it came to speaking! He could outspeak Martin Luther King on a bad day!"
...
"COME TO GODDY, SCROTUM WIPE!"
How pithy, though Carlin. They don't put that on inspirational posters. He had often seen Godred Crovan's supposed sayings on said posters when he had briefly applied for driver's ed. This wasn't one of them.
Godred reached for his axe once again, and looked around, trying to spot where Carlin had magicked himself too.
Then he looked up.
Carlin froze.
Then the chandelier snapped off it's holdings and plummeted down towards Godred.
...
"But above all else, King Godred was a fair man, who was prone to forgiving many of his enemies and freeing those who were punished for crimes they didn't admit."
...
When Carlin awoke, he was chained to a rather large stone wall by his wrists. He was also facing two rather nasty pit bulls who looked as though they wanted to chew his nadgers off to finish the job that Godred had started. The king himself was standing on the other side, smirking nastily.
"So, you know, I've been thinking. It's entirely possible that what you've said all along is true, that my crown wasn't stolen by you. On the other hand, you might be lying, and my old age might be making me far too sentimental. But either way, you're going to die."
"THIS IS A OVERREACTION, ISN'T IT?!"
"Do I look like I care about the opinion of a lowlife thug who looks so old that the only use he'll be having is as a reminder to all of my subjects not to take me lightly?"
The door slammed as Godred left the bewildered Carlin alone with the dogs. Their mouths watered, and Carlin's dried up. He wondered where Benn was. Or when Benn was. He wasn't sure which applied.
"Psst!"
"No, I'm not! I hardly touched a drop! Anyway, little voice in my head, about time you ******* showed up! Figures that when I finally do get thrown out of Sodor, it's only then the voices start coming!"
"Do you want to be rescued or not?!"
"Oh, fine, all right, then, imaginary being."
"I am NOT IMAGINARY."
He wasn't. Carlin turned his head towards one of the wooden beams not too far from his head. And there, sitting on the beam, wearing a very familiar uniform and giving him a rather cold little glare, stood a tiny man.
"I-" he spoke "-am a Conductor. And I'm going to get you out of here whether you want me to or not."
...
As the class left the train, having learned nothing except what a terrible history teacher they had, Gordon grunted, and stormed back to the sheds, where he fell asleep at once and tried to ignore James's loud snores. He was feeling rather odd, to be frank. He frowned, and pouted. He tried to think of the usual things that cheered him up, like the postcard from his cousins, Union of South Africa and Dwight Eisenhower, saying that they wished he was there on the beaches of Blackpool with them. Or perhaps the fact that he'd be getting a new coat of paint. Or, and this did briefly succeed in cheering himself up, the fact that Henry had finally managed to get hold of Independence Day on VHS.
However, even that pleasure soon subsided and he was left to glumly fall asleep.
Early the next morning, Gordon's fire struggled to start, which put him in a even happier mood, not. The firelighter was deeply puzzled by this, and by deeply puzzled, I mean mildly bothered. "Don't know what's wrong with it, guvnor," he said to no one in particular "But I think it's gremlins!"
"But Gordon's never watched that movie!"
"No...gremlins? You know?"
"Oh...those gremlins. Righty ho." The fireman coughed and grinned sheepishly. "Riiiight."
"So, what are gremlins?" asked Percy to Thomas.
"I've heard they're little green men who play tricks on people. I could be thinking of martians, though." Thomas paused, lost in thought.
"Can we find one!?"
"Percy, we only just got finished burying your pet centipede, I don't think you're ready for another little pet whom is incredibly easy to accidentally run over and squash."
"Besides-" snorted James "-Gremlins don't exist! They're an excuse for lazy fat sods who don't have the ability to take responsibility for their own actions when things go wrong under their watch, and no one knows why, or they do, and they just really can't be arsed to try."
"If firelighter says that they exist, then they exist!" said Thomas, in a rather defensive mood.
"PAH!" snorted James, the truce between the two from the tree incident having already disintegrated before it had even really got going "You believe that, and you'll believe anything!"
"At least he keeps me warm!"
"Oh, are you really still mad about the Children in Need thing!?"
"You bailed right before we got dropped into the Arctic and I had to spend the entire night freezing myself to death inside a smelly tent on my own! I had to have my paint chipped off and removed by the end of it!" Thomas looked ruefully at his slightly darker shade of blue. It was good, but he missed his old style.
And then the Fat Controller arrived to stop the noise. Hopefully. "SILENCE!"
"Oh dear, sir, have you been gargling nails again?"
Hatt gnashed his teeth and bit his tongue to stop himself from bawling Thomas out right there and then. His throat was a little sore, that was true, but it was mostly due to an argument with his brother's secretary. He apparently had gone to test a bouncy castle somewhere in Iceland, which meant that SHE had to come to his Island instead. "I am expecting a VIP today! A VERY. IMPORTANT. PERSON. She has heard that all of my engines are really useful-" He paused, and let out a contemptous little "HA!" just so he could see the look of anger on their faces "-so let's try not to shatter her hopes and dreams, eh, lads?"
"Yes sir!" snarled the engines, who all decided to out-do the others as best they could.
"As long as the gremlins let us!" Percy piped up.
"WHAT GREMLINS?!" Hatt had always had a secret fear of the movie ever since it had came out.
"The ones inside Gordon's boiler, sir! Which is why he's not ready yet!"
"WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT!" boomed the Fat Controller, who pulled out a sledgehammer. Gordon's fire started up rather quickly after that. "Gordon, you best be on your best behavior today! No smart arse remarks or that buffer won't be the only thing that gets bent out of shape! Now, you're pulling the SPECIAL train that contains the SPECIAL visitor who is making a SPECIAL visit to the SPECIAL Island and who needs to be impressed on that this is a SPECIAL, SPECIAL RAILWAY! GOT IT!?"
"So, it's a special special, this train, sir?"
"Don't say that, Gordon, it makes you sound like a thicko. No high speeds! She won't like that! And don't mention the European Union to her! Or Thatcher! OR ANYTHING. DO YOUR JOB FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE!"
Gordon grinned. Secretly he was rather worried that Hatt had finally abseiled over the cliff of sanity.
...
The Conductor had managed to get at Carlin's whistle, shrank it down briefly with his own little selection of gold dust, grabbed hold of Carlin's ear none too carefully and blew upon it.
Carlin let out a deep sigh of relief as he massaged his wrists. Then he squawked as he fell flat on his face as gravity remembered that it existed. The Conductor sniffed rather snootily, and punched him in a nerve. That got him back up again. "Come on, large one! I think it's time you met the others!"
"The others?!"
"The Old Ones, of course! They've been waiting forever for you!"
They were in front at a place Carlin didn't recognize, even without the rails and sidings and grumbling engines. Just a very large forest, that seemed to stretch forever.
"Hang on, are these...rails?" He felt around the ground he had landed on. Yes, now that he was a bit more clear headed, he could feel something that was vaguely solid and in a similar shape to the rails he had come to know as a driver. But if he looked at them, or tried to, all he'd see was his hand patting an invisible lump.
"Well, you don't give away your position to the enemy, do you? My god, you'd think you were a little cleverer considering you were the one who saved the entire world."
"Now, now, young un, restrain yourself." Mr Benn walked out from the clump of trees, dressed in typical villager attire for this time period, clasped Carlin's shoulder and yanked him up with surprising strength. "He's probably a little bit confused, aren't you, dear fellow?"
"You can say that again, you f**king son of a gun! The hell did you spring from?!"
"Come down here. I'll explain more when we're safe."
A few seconds later, Carlin's jaw had practically hit the floor in shock. Benn had pulled him down beneath the hollow of an old beech tree. He hadn't expected much, just some supplies to keep him (Benn) alive. What he saw instead was a very large, in both width and length, area that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. They were clearly under the forest, as the roots of the trees wrapped around the ceiling like a massive honeycomb. The entire room, for lack of a better term, was lit up with what appeared to be huge clumps of glowworms, nestling together inside makeshift lamps.
But it was what was on the ground that was of interest to Carlin. What appeared to be primitive sheds had been set up around the place, alongside rails that were more visible than the ones upon the ground. Besides them were anvils, where strange looking machines acted as blacksmiths, forging new rails, sleepers and construction materials. But this room was not empty. Far from it.
There were machines everywhere. Cars, buses, lorries, tractors, steamrollers, construction vehicles, all doing something or other. Testing themselves, Carlin realized. The buses were on an area marked in old English as 'speed testing', racing around a carved out track alongside some of the cars. The lorries were bringing what appeared to be fresh supplies of...oil? Some sort of fuel, anyway. The tractors and other construction vehicles (Diggers, bulldozers, cranes, loaders) were expanding the cavern outwards via whatever means necessary.
"What...is this?"
"Welcome to Great Waterton." Benn clapped a hand upon Carlin's shoulder. "Walk with me, and I'll explain. Thank you, Conductor. That'll be all."
The little man nodded, looked oddly at Carlin, and then vanished.
"I'll start at the beginning. During the battle against the Malevolence, you were knocked against a tree, and rendered unconscious. Before I could reach you, two things happened. The Malevolence was torn apart by the magic of Lady and Proteus, and another one of those odd time portals appeared, absorbing you and sending you hurtling back to this exact moment in time. You follow me?"
"I...think so?"
"In any case, I was unable to follow you through said portal because, as I have mentioned, the destruction of the Malevolence took a great deal of precedence. And don't roll your eyes at me like that, it's true. King Noggin was taken back to the Northlands, where he died and was given a hero's funeral. It was decided by the wizard Catweazle that...well, to put it this way, evil is a bit like energy, it be can be transferred, it can be harnessed, it can be trapped...but it can never be fully destroyed. At least, not yet. So the remaining members of the group agreed to meet here every once a year to make sure that the Malevolence never returns, and to keep these machines, not yet supposed to be created, a secret."
"I follow you, sort of. So, that's Catweazle, Alias, Willo, Meredith- Was that his name? Yeah. So that makes four. The priest?"
"Dead. There's been five priests here since him, and half of them have died due to some sort of curse passed on by the Malevolence. No, we can't get the help of any men of god on this one. But along with the four you've mentioned, we've had the assistance of Knut, Noggin's son and myself. They call themselves the Iron Circle, a rather pretentious nickname." Benn paused. "And now, you're back. So, you're technically a member. I've been making pit stops back over the years, never staying in the same place for long, just enough to check there has been no disturbance, and to find where you had got to. Stopped back at the shop on the way, got you something more period appropriate."
"Touching. But, if you're trying to keep them a secret, why is there a kingdom on here?"
Benn thought for a moment, took Carlin down a side tunnel and started talking again, in somewhat hushed tones. "We put up a sign, it was Meredith's idea, to try and keep away intruders. Alias chose the words 'Sod Off' to be written upon it, to perhaps try and convince people that this was an accursed place. Unfortunately, four or five years ago, King Godred returned to the Island. His father and some of the tribes that he ruled had been living there back in the tenth century or so, before the evil took over the land and forced them out. His son came back and decided that it was his rightful land."
"But, isn't the actual King at this point...hold on, let me use my thinkbox...Henry? Henry the 1st? I mean, all these squabbles about who the true king is should be over now, right?"
"They are. Alias's king was killed not long after he returned from the battle, and most of the Viking tribes have given up or been slaughtered. But Godred thinks he can use the magic on this Island to take back England. He's a fool. But a dangerous fool, as you've clearly seen. History books paint him as this benevolent king who had a whole legion of good and benevolent knights, a real King Arthur." Benn paused, and tapped the wall. "Anyway, he struggled to read the sign seeing as it got worn down so much over the years, so instead of Sod Off, he christened the Island 'Sodor'. We've used the magic to go underground, start up a civilization of our own, and to create more warriors."
"And the Conductors? I mean, admittedly I've never quite been told the history of my people, but I never thought it was anything like this."
"You'll see. Right through this door."
...
Gordon's special coach was one that had formerly been used to take passengers from the Express to Thomas's Branch Line. However, after an incident in 1986 with the Scottish twins, that idea was stopped, and the coach was used for formal occasions. After a four year wait, it was dragged out of retirement, cleaned and polished, and was placed on a siding for last checks by humans and the Pinchers.
Gordon waited impatiently as he glared at the clock. Percy rolled up with a line of coal trucks, and Gordon immediately became aware that there was a fifty percent chance of something rather amusing relating to the coal trucks happening to him. He was becoming increasingly aware of his role in the great cosmic story, which was to get covered in horrible stuff as karmic punishment.
"What's the matter, Gordon!? Why aren't you moving?! You'll be late! You've got boiler sludge, haven't you!?"
"Driver says that there's gremlins in the turntable, and Hatt's having a coronary. He's ordered me to wait here until we make sure that there's no infestation. It's as stupid as it sounds, and then some."
"Must be everywhere! And- Oliver, why do you have your head stuck in a shed?"
"Oh you know." Oliver said casually. "Just, er, relaxing. In the darkness. Unable to see. It's fun, really."
Toad looked at Percy for help, but the little green goblin had already scurried away to do something funner with his life, like go back to tending the bar at Knapford, which was undergoing repairs. To this day, we're still not entirely sure why Oliver had his head stuck in a shed. I don't think any of us will ever know the answer to it.
At last, the turntable was mended, and the coach was ready, and Gordon puffed away with the special coach in fine fettle. He grunted and growled to himself, he really didn't want to be late and have to suffer the wrath of Fatty so soon after the incident at Kirk Ronan.
Also, a second coach had somehow managed to teleport right behind the first. Don't ask me why, I just do the narration. Gordon was soon making up for lost time and arrived at Kirk Ronan with time to spare. Percy was also there, trying to get a quick look at the visitor himself.
As time ticked by, the Fat Controller grew worried. "WHERE IS THOMAS!? HE'S BRINGING MY MOT-THE SPECIAL VISITOR! IF HE'S LATE-"
"Pah! This is what happens when you put that silly little tank engine in control, sir! I keep telling you, he's probably gotten lost doing his crossword somewhere. Really useful? Can't be, if he's late!"
"Someone's salty this morning," remarked Percy, as Thomas arrived, looking extremely exhausted and weary.
"Sorry sir! There was an incident with another cow on the line, AGAIN, you should really fix that, sir, but good news, visitor is safe and sound, and my driver can attest to that!"
"Oh, good, ah, and here she is! How are you?" He shook the visitor's hand rather solemnly, before something Thomas said clicked in his head. "Hang about? What was your driver doing checking on the visitor?"
"Can you blame a lass for a quick bit of fun!?" chortled the woman, who looked like the Fat Controller in drag. The fireman shook his head at the rather embarrassed driver, who was fumbling with his belt.
"Who is it?" whispered Percy.
"I don't know, but she and the driver have probably traumatized me with what they were doing back in Clarabel. How are you, old girl?"
"The horror...the horror."
"The Fat Controller is rather keen to please her, he's got a whole special party lined up for her." Thomas shuddered. "Though considering how she is right now, I'd put money on it turning into some bizarre sort of Roman orgy."
"She's got a dog!"
"A-woof-woof." said the dog, sounding suspiciously like Micheal Angelis doing a silly voice.
"Come on, Thomas!" said the driver "You need a drink!"
"And you need a cigarette, mate! You don't half pick em, do you?" snorted the fireman, as Thomas backed out of the station.
"PAH! Lazy little sod! The Fat Man is expecting me to arrive on time, and it's because of him that we're late!" Gordon rolled his eyes and started off. Or at least, attempted to, as the lady was weighing down the mysteriously appearing second coach.
Eventually, he gathered speed to make up for lost time. His driver encouraged this, he wanted to get the mental image of his fellow driver and the visitor doing godknows what on the backseat on the carriage as soon as possible. Unfortunately, they picked the worst time to do this, as the visitor had for some ungodly reason decided to have a bath.
"Listen-" said the fireman, in a rare moment of sanity "-I think we should slow down, in case our VIP gets uncomfortable. It's an old line here, it's rather painful." And it was.
"OOOH SHIT! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY DUCK?!" The water flopped about and sploshed against the window and through the doors, as the visitor rolled around undignified, trying to regain footing. And as they climbed the hill, the bath slid backwards and smacked into the back of the carriage. The woman almost fell out of the back door, and survived only by clinging on to the railings for dear life.
The dog, meanwhile, was having a blast.
As they pulled into Wellsworth, Gordon looked rather haggard. "You can take her!" he snapped to Thomas, and stormed off in the general direction of the sheds so that he could finally get some rest. Before he did this, however, he let out a very long and loud whistle that sent the dog into a frenzy. He leapt from the carriage, sped through the station, across the road and into a field where Champion the bull was waiting.
The two creatures eyed each other for a moment. Then the bull let out a very odd noise that also sounded like Micheal Angelis doing a silly voice. This scared the dog so much that he decided to leap back over the bushes, through the station, over the bridge and into Thomas's cab.
"A-woof-woof!"
He had a nice ride all the way to the docks, even if the fireman did nearly eat him out of sheer desperation. At the docks, the Fulton Ferry was waiting, to be used as the sight of the party of the year. Not that many people would remember it after this night was over.
"What's the dog's name?" asked the fireman. No one was sure whether he was talking about the visitor or the animal itself.
"After today, I think I'll call him Gremlin! Come here at ONCE!" The dog hurried up, and the Fat Controller backed away a few paces just in case the dog turned vicious and decided it was 'Controller' for supper.
"Well, at least I've met one, at last. Heh." No one else found Topham's joke funny, once again. He forced out a "Ho ho ho" and looked glumly around.
"Excuse me, sir, but who is this very special visitor who has traumatized one of my coaches?"
"Why, didn't I tell you? This is my mother, the Dowager Hatt, and she agrees with me that you are all really useful engines, and as you know, mothers are always right. Especially my mother."
"A-WOOF-WOOF!"
"Shut up, Gremlin."
Dowager Hatt proceeded to do a number of things once the party started. Firstly, she drank enough beer to sink the Titanic four times over. Then she managed to set the curtains on fire with her seventh cigar of the night. After which, she ended up sleeping with half the drivers and a good quarter of the fireman of Topham's entire railway. Finally, she ended up in a delirious state after having driven the Fulton Ferry into a bunch of rocks.
It was a good party, for her.
...
"This is proof, clear and unrefutable proof, that we need to act now!" If Proteus had arms, he probably would have slammed one down on the table as a sign of his determination. As it was, he settled for just whistling loudly.
"You need to calm down, Proteus," warned Meredith. "I have spent some time with his majesty, and aside from the fact that he is attempting the impossible in overthrowing the right and true King, he is a most cunning adversary. The loss of his crown will be something else to fuel his great anger. I'd rather not go up against him just yet."
"Then how long do you expect us to wait?!" shot back a rather tense sounding plane "Every day the humans grow stronger! Every day they become more convinced of their own superiority!"
"I agree. Which is why we must not fall into the same trap as them, m'dears." declared a tug, who wore glasses and appeared to be an ocean goer, by his basis. He rested upon a small stream of water that trickled from somewhere, keeping him bobbing along gently. "The thing is, we may have the magic that can stop him, but he has the advantage of not being limited, at least not in the same way, by fuel, by terrain. We need to think this through carefully."
Carlin watched, confused. "What's going on?"
"An argument. The last shockwave of light and dark magic brought many of the vehicles you see before you to life, and Lady selected a sort of inner circle. We don't get along. We're more concerned with keeping the world in order. But there's a sizable portion of the Old Ones who desire ruling over the humans instead of alongside them."
"But there are more here than there were back during the battle. We only made one of each, apart from the steam trains."
"They've learnt a lot."
Carlin jumped, banging his head on the roof and falling back down to earth with a undignified squawk. He looked up into the eyes of Lady. The tank engine regarded him for a moment as one might regard a particularly impressive parrot.
"I apologize if I frightened you at all, Carlin. That is your name, correct?"
"Yeah! It is, uh, you look well."
"I try."
Carlin's knowledge of small talk had dried up after this point, and so for the next minute he awkwardly looked at his shoes, trying to think of a topic to continue onwards. At last, he gave up, and just asked the question that was most prominent in his mind. "What do you think?"
"About Godred?"
"About...the humans. Taking over."
Lady didn't answer for a long time. Then, when Carlin had begun to fear that he had offended her, she spoke "I have listened to Catweazle talk about the future. Of what it holds. Of what we are. Of what happens to our kind. We will die. Many of us will die because the humans start to see us as words on a piece of paper. We are not. We are living, thinking, talking, breathing creatures. As long as I live, I will never let man destroy any of us. I see no problem with helping the humans out if they need it. It is in our nature to enjoy work, to find it fun...but to serve or to control? I doubt very much it would go well."
Her eyes drifted over to the arguing humans and vehicles. "But what do I know? Maybe it is my experience outside of this body that is talking. They have known nothing but those forms. They know that they will be called upon to work for the humans. It doesn't settle well with them. I can't blame them. The others...they've been constructed thanks to my magic. Whatever that blast did, it soaked the land in the same magic that brought them to life. So every time Sudrian steel, or iron, or any metal is used to construct something...it's brought to life. We need soldiers, and we need them fast. War doesn't accommodate one's personal wishes."
"I know that." Carlin sighed. "Yeah."
"You have been most helpful. You saved our lives in the battle. In return, I have given your kind a home. The newer ones, they lack the magic that we all possess. They need drivers, firemen, guards...people to keep them running. We call them gremlins. Hopefully, one day they will no longer be needed."
Carlin understood. The Conductors were, in effect, the yearly caretakers of the engines. As time passed by, they would fade from memory, until they were only referred to be the mocking nickname of gremlins. "What are you going to do about Godred?"
"Come with me."
Lady bade Carlin and Benn to get on her cab, and so doing, she puffed off, as most of the inner circle of vehicles joined her, Benn quickly informed him of each one. There was the ocean going tug, Poseidon, who was probably the wisest of all the Old Ones, who refused to act without doing anything, and his protege, the oddly named 'Tubby' the tugboat. The plane, referred to as Jay Jay, accompanied a helicopter whom appeared to be holding back his friend. Alongside them were a variety of different names that he'd probably forget. Bella the Bus, Doc the Double Decker, Saul the Steamroller, Mark the Motorcycle, Charles the Clapped Out Car, Tractor Tom, Half Pint the Milk Float. And Proteus, of course, who seemed to be rather grumpy.
"There are others, of course, but they're either too big to fit in here, or they're out scouting." he told Carlin. "Good to see you back, anyway. Thanks for your help in the battle. Is this it?"
Lady glanced down the tunnel to her left. "No. That's the way to the Magic Railroad, and it's not ready yet."
"The what?!"
"It's a way of travelling around the world. To future railways, once they get built." Lady frowned. "In theory, anyway. Now, before I show you all this, let me just state that these are a last resort, in case...you know who, comes back."
Everyone nodded awkwardly.
"I mean it. We don't use them just because we want to get rid of Godred, because if we do, it could get rather nasty. They have power that is incredibly dangerous." She made sure that that had been impressed upon them all, and then ordered that a large tarpaulin be removed.
There was a gasp.
"Rocketing Rotors!"
"The hell are they?!"
"Are they meant to be this small?"
"I don't understand." Carlin muttered to Benn. "By what you and she have said, you've been making these...anthropomorphic vehicles for quite a while now!"
"Yes, but...you remember that before Proteus and Lady came along, we'd tried making another steam engine, right? Well, it failed, didn't it? Not failed, it just didn't respond. Even when the magic hit, it remained faceless, voiceless, all it was able to do is communicate in whistles that everyone somehow is able to understand. And since then, there's been no way to make sentient steam engines. No way at all. Until now, because apparently Lady has made four of them!"
The four small tender engines, about the size of the average human, looked around and grinned, charmingly, at the baffled ground.
"Hello, I'm Rex!"
"I'm Mike!
"I'm Bert!"
"And I'm Jock!"
"And they are, for lack of a better word, the beginning of a new era." Lady grinned. "Any questions?"
Oh boy, do I have some notes to make!
Yep. I went there. Marion wasn't wrong, the little engines? They're totes magic. They may not have the ability to transform a steam engine into a excavator and back again, but they do have a little magic. Why are they here? What are they doing? Why is Jock among them? Questions for another time, I'm afraid!
The idea of the Conductors being the first crew of the vehicles came about really late, as in, when I first started writing this chapter, and was wondering how I could tie in the gremlins. It's also done as a way to explain, in particular, the way that in TUGS, they often preform actions that are somewhat not in keeping with the theme of anthropomorphism. They do have crews, just small ones that you can't see, working the mechanics inside the Tugs.
And I went reference insane on this one! Most of the alliterative names were ones i just came up with, to suit the theme of most of the characters in the official stories having alliterative names, which I always thought was fun. Jay Jay the Jet Plane is from his own series, same with Tractor Tom and Budgie the Helicopter, who is the one shouting "Rocketing Rotors!" which is his catchphrase in the show. Tubby the Tugboat actually came about when I was looking up information on the illustrators, it said that Reginald Dalby tried to make his own series of books called Tales of Flitterwick Harbour, starring Tubby, and I just couldn't resist it. His mentor is a character you might have heard of as well, but I won't say it just yet. You can probably guess. Half Pint the Milk Float is from Dream Street, which I mostly knew through repeated watchings of Carlton Entertainment's adverts.
Oh, and finally, the engine I've mentioned. He was mentioned in the last chapter, though I wouldn't have been surprised if you missed him. I won't tell you who he is just yet, but I have left a pretty detailed reference to him. I'm curious to see if anyone picked up on who he might be.
And on that confusing note, thanks for watching, and next time, we have some good fun with 'Bye George'!