The Best Band in Town
Chapter
(Panners Road )
Regulus
- Mark my words, Mr. APPLe, all we need to do is keep straight down this road, and we’ll get where we need to be!
- Did we land at the wrong airport? Sure.
- Did that lorry we hitched on go bust? Absolutely.
- Did our motorbike go careening into the cacti? Too bloody right.
- Wa-hey! Nothing’s gonna slow us down!
The rockin’ pirate is making her way down the sun-beaten highway, each step bringing her nearer to the distant West Coast.
She turns her back to the blazing sun, noticing her shadow shorten beneath her, then watching as it shifts behind her.
Regulus
- Those Foundation’s fools ought to have figured it out by now—this rockin’ pirate can’t be beat!
She laughs, stepping gingerly across the burning stones.
Under the blazing sun, it looks as if the asphalt stretches endlessly far beyond the horizon.
Regulus
- “Why did she leave without a word, so gracefully?”♪
- “Was it something I said?”♪
- “Now all I can do is wait for yesterday.”♪
She hums her favorite tune as she makes her way forward beneath the gaze of the red cliffs above her.
APPLe
- Captain … you … dropped … some … thing.
A floppy disk tumbles out of her backpack and clatters onto the scorching asphalt.
Regulus
- Oh—floppy disk, the little gadget Sonetto gave us.
- Heh, just another Foundation trinket.
She picks it up, brushes off the dust, and tucks the “lost item” back into her bag.
Regulus
- If things head sideways, we’ll have this little toy to make our escape.
APPLe
- But … why … don’t we just use it to go straight to Los Angeles?
His voice is uncharacteristically hoarse.
Regulus
- Nonsense! This is a journey, Mr. APPLe.
- And any good journey is about hoisting your sails and making your own across the wide open sea.
- Not that there’s much sea to go around here—
No sea at all. Only badlands and mountains and beyond the mountains, wilderness, and threaded across that wilderness are the asphalt roads of industry, stitching together civilization from coast to coast.
Regulus
- But keep your chin up. We’re a long way still from L.A., but we’re not gonna stop till we’re there.
- It’d be nice to have an airship about now. That’s a groovy thought.
She pulls out the disk again—a Foundation Ritual Disk hidden among her vinyl collection, disguised as an ordinary CD.
Regulus
- Quick cast! Shadow Schmadow! Haha!
The Ritual Disk gives no response to her botched incantation.
APPLe
- Captain, this APPLe believes … perhaps …
His voice is weak, losing more and more of his usual shine and elegance.
Indeed, he seems to be struggling to stay afloat in the scorching heat and almost shriveled. Trying, with as much effort as he can still muster, to keep up with his captain’s boundless energy.
APPLe
- Before we reach the coast …
- Captain … please …
Regulus
- Just think of the glorious sunshine awaiting us on California Highway 1, Mr. APPLe! We’ll make it to that show in record time and rock on harder than ever!
Her ambitions remain as high as ever, even after this little ticket mishap.
They had stepped out of the plane expecting to be welcomed by the big city and ocean breeze, but instead found themselves in an entirely unfamiliar and unwelcoming place.
Now, APPLe is falling further and further behind her.
APPLe
- Captain … if I die, bury me beneath Westminster Bridge … please …
His sentence trails away as he lands in a soft and squishy thud.
A remnant bit of juice sizzles on the hot asphalt as Regulus swoops him up in her hands.
Regulus
- Oi, hey, Mr. APPLe, wake up!
- Mr. APPLe—!!
???
- Did something happen to your apple?
The car pulls off the road beside her, and the window lowers.
???
- Need a ride?
- Walking across the wilderness in this heat ain’t easy.
Riley
- I’m from Gold Dust, just a little up that way. The name’s Riley. What’s yours?
The friendly driver waves her toward the car.
Regulus
- You’re lucky to meet the one and only Rockin’ Pirate of the Thames—Regulus!
- But this rockin’ pirate could use a bit of water about now.
Riley
- Here, catch!
The driver tosses a half-empty bottle to her.
Regulus
- Rock on! This should be enough to save Mr. APPLe!
She twists open the cap and pours the remaining water out over her first mate.
Riley
- Is that how all you Brits treat your food?
Regulus
- This APPLe isn’t food. He’s my mate.
Riley
- Alrighty then. So what brings you out here? Get lost on your way to Albuquerque? Or just decided to brave the desert on foot?
Regulus
- Only a bloody misprinted ticket at the airport.
- Oh, and then, the lorry we hitched a ride with broke down, and the motorcycle hit a rough patch and skidded into some cacti, and even the bleeding tractor that found us couldn’t make it more than halfway. So, now we’re hoofing it.
Whether a curse or just an awful run of bad luck, misfortune appears to be following Regulus at every step.
Riley
- Pfft, ha-ha-ha! Well, don’t go jinxing my baby here too.
It is a playful laugh, as far as Regulus could tell.
Riley
- Hold on, did you say … “we”?
The driver glances around the rocky vista. To her mind, the only people there are herself and this bespectacled pirate.
Regulus
- Mr. APPLe here is my first mate.
She cradles the apple up to her chest. Her poor companion still hasn’t regained consciousness under the blazing sun.
Riley
- Well, your friend looks like he’s seen better days.
- Gold Dust is just ahead. It won’t take long. So, Miss, how about it?
She honks, signaling for Regulus to hop in.
Riley
- If you need a place to stay the night, trust me, that’s your only option.
Regulus
- But we’re headed to the coast.
- Our long-short holiday is supposed to be about beaches, Dr. Papper, and rock ‘n’ roll!
Riley
- I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of a “long-short holiday.”
- But if you’re bound for Los Angeles, then even if everything goes smoothly, that’s going to be a long drive ahead of you. And the roads out here aren’t too great.
- And if you’re fixing on walking along the highway, you won’t get there until sometime next week.
- So, you’ll need a car. Or at least a ride.
She pats the wheel of her car affectionately, as proud as a knight atop her steed.
Riley
- So, come on now. Hop in, Miss. Don’t mind the clutter. I was picking up some stuff from a friend the next town over. But I’ve got room for you.
She clears some of the bags and bundles, carving out just enough space in the backseat.
As she approaches, Regulus is hit with a wave of odor, a disinfectant smell that causes her to hesitate for a moment. Until she, at last, opens the door.
Regulus
- Smells a bit like an A&E in here.
She sniffs, like a curious cub, trying to identify the strange scent wafting from the luggage in the backseat.
Riley
- Uh, could be because that friend I mentioned was working in a hospital.
- Alright, ready to go!
- Huh?
- Don’t do this, buddy. We’ve never let a hitchhiker down before.
Regulus
- Could be that your buddy’s not in the mood.
- How about some music to cheer it up?
- Fab! How about Something by John Lennon—
- Whoa!
- I almost hit—!
Riley
- Hahaha, hang on back there. This jalopy’s got some miles on it, but cut the old girl some slack.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Gold Dust )
From afar, she spots a hospital, a radio station, a motel, and a faint, chant-like melody drifting over the scene as they arrive to something unexpected.
Lines of people form queues outside the local shops. The town seems much livelier than Regulus had expected.
Riley
- That’s Gold Dust’s Radio Station. Just a few steps down from the corner there.
- It used to be an old Opera House back in the gold rush. Then the radio took over. So, the locals call it the “Broadcast Theater.”
- Sometimes, folks rent it out for events.
Regulus
- Sounds like the perfect spot for a heavy metal show!
Riley
- Uh … about that …
- Further down the street, you’ll figure out why we call this place “Gold Dust,” the old miner’s camp.
- The state built a big old power plant there a while back, but lately it’s been on the fritz. The power here is about as predictable as a moody arcanist.
Regulus
- I thought this would just be one of those typical old west ghost towns, you know, highways, cacti, haunted inns, and piercing screams.
- Maybe throw in a couple of cowboys drawing pistols at high noon.
She points two loaded finger guns at Riley with a playful smile.
Riley
- So, you’re a pirate?
- And this apple friend, what’s his name?
Regulus
- Only the fastest, coolest, rockin’-est pirate on the Thames—Regulus!
- And Mr. APPLe here, well, he’s Mr. APPLe.
Her introduction is as proud as ever, though stifled a little by the thought of her still nearly lifeless crewmate.
Riley
- What, like a real live pirate? I thought you were joking. It’s a cool title, though, as far as pirate names go.
She smiles and waves to some boys across the street.
The kids dart over to see these new visitors.
But the moment they notice Riley and her strange companions, the kids hush, whispering amongst themselves.
Regulus
- What’s all that about?
Riley
- Ah, nothing much, local stuff.
- Hey, kiddo, find me a parking spot.
The driver tosses her keys and a few coins to the silent boy, then motions for her hitchhiker to follow.
Riley
- You know, my dad told me that the day I was born, Elvis was doing a show here.
- Though, I figure if he had been to this little slice of nothing, it’d be bigger news.
- Hmm? You listening, Miss?
Regulus is instead fixated on a notice pinned to the wall.
Regulus
- What’s this?
- “Seventh Amendment of the Gold Dust Morality Act: All arcanists must register their identity within thirty minutes of entering town limits.”
- Hang about? Register?! Isn’t this Foundation territory!? Do they want me to up and give away my location anytime, anywhere, just so they can pop me in some cave or jail cell, soon as they like?
- “Twenty-Third Amendment: No consuming cocoa or cocoa-based products in bed.”
- “Twenty-Ninth Amendment: No rock concerts or possession of ‘rock and roll’ paraphernalia will be permitted within town limits.”
She removes her sunglasses and leans in closer to the notice, her eyes wide with disbelief at the printed words.
Regulus
- Cor! Rock is banned! Banned!?
The hymns being sung suddenly gain a grating quality to her ears. The word “rock” has been printed above the notice then crossed out with a large X.
Regulus
- This here is an attack on freedom itself!
Riley
- Oh, yeah. Someone from the Order of Enlightenment got voted in as mayor, and not long after we had all these new rules popping up.
- “Residents are not to interact privately with unregistered arcanists,” “Bread must be baked for at least forty minutes,” and “Must pray before dinner to …” pray to who was it again?
- Anyway, the sheriff’s office and the radio are all in their pocket now, so the rest of us just go along with what they say.
Riley points out the town’s sights one by one—the hurried pedestrians, the anxious customers, the thug-like enforcers on the street, and the scattered notices in between.
Riley
- But my pals and I don’t take the rules too seriously. Some we follow, some we don’t. It’s hard to make sense of them all.
- Life goes on as usual. Honestly, most of these rules just feel like something your mom would nag you about.
She offers a wagging finger with a smile.
Regulus
- My mum never cared about stuff like that.
Riley
- Lucky you, but that ain’t the point. Anyways—
- Me and my friends are planning something big.
She leans in as she says it, whispering it softly.
Riley
- And if you’re willing to stay at the Beetles Inn, you can get in for free.
Regulus
- Hah, a sneaky sales tactic, that!
- But far be it from me to turn down an invitation to a party!
Riley
- Just tell the front desk you’re a friend of mine; they’ll set you up with a discount.
She winks.
Regulus
- Righto, but first, I’ve got to get Mr. APPLe upright again.
Riley
- Yeah, I almost forgot about your apple friend there.
Regulus
- You’ll find that Mr. APPLe is a talented arcanist.
Riley
- An arcanist?
- You probably already gathered that the rules are pretty strict for arcanists here, and worse for arcanist pirates, I’d bet.
Riley lowers her voice, gesturing subtly to the roadside.
Though the street is noisy and chaotic, what had seemed before excited now reveals a restless depth. Their piercing gazes land on Regulus and her apple companion.
Regulus
- Oi! What’re you gawking at? Never seen a rock star before, eh?
Riley
- Some lunatic arcanists from out of town attacked us a little while ago.
Riley shakes her head and then reveals a pistol in her hand.
Riley
- They were packing something like this.
Regulus
- Is that a gun!?
Riley
- What’s so surprising? Oh, I forgot you Brits don’t see them so often.
- But haha, this is just a toy.
She pulls the “trigger,” releasing a burst of confetti from the barrel.
Riley
- Happy holidays!
The tiny pop of the confetti gun is drowned out by the sudden lifting of the music pervading the town. As if synchronized with the music, enforcers appear and begin posting new notices.
There are arguments somewhere in the distance, but the loud hymnal-like broadcast covers up the words.
Yet, for the people around them, it seems as if this was just another ordinary day, except for the new stranger and the confetti drifting in the wind.
Riley
- I mean, it’s not actually a holiday or anything.
Regulus
- Any old day can be a holiday if you want it to be.
- I hereby declare today to be International Pirate Rock Day!
To commemorate her interrupted journey.
Regulus
- But before we start with the festivities,
- we’re in need of somewhere to bunk in for the night. Mr. APPLe here is looking more and more like a Granny Smith.
Her crewmate remains motionless in her arms as they stand beneath the scorching western sun.
Riley
- Right, that’ll be the Beetles Inn.
- Take the next right, then down the street for the length of two of those broadcast hymns—they’re all the same—then knock on the glass door with the star-shaped ornament.
She relays the directions to the inn, giving the distinct impression that it will be exactly the kind of place she likes.
Riley
- I need to go find my friends. But I hope I’ll see you later, pal!
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Beetles Inn)
The hallway is a noisy din punctuated by chaotic guitar riffs.
From inside her guestroom, Regulus picks up the phone and dials the front desk.
…
Regulus
- Hi, I need … uh, need some …
She holds the receiver between her cheek and shoulder, flipping through an emergency manual.
Regulus
- Some saline solution!
- Yeah, yeah, Room 301, saline solution, and … uh, plant nutrients.
- Yeah, that’s what I said.
…
Regulus
- Whew, hopefully that’ll fix you up right as rhythm.
Rowdy Youngster
- What are you doing, man!?
- I told you, I don’t have—mmph—!!
Regulus
- What’s all this then?
Regulus hurries to the doorway and peeks into the hall to spy on the commotion, but there is nothing there to see.
Regulus
- Bit odd, this place.
Before she has any time to think over what she’s heard, her room service arrives with APPLe’s much-needed aid.
Regulus
- Soak in a 0.9% saline solution for one minute.
Following a guideline far more diligently than ever before, she places her companion carefully into the salty cup.
Regulus
- Is this really going to work?
She watches the clock above her, counting the seconds. One, two, three … up to sixty.
APPLe
- *cough*
Regulus
- Mr. APPLe!
Bubbles rise up from the cup, and two hands rush in to scoop him out.
APPLe
- Captain? The last thing I recall is accompanying you on our roadside trek … Where are we now?
Regulus
- Gold Dust, apparently. Though this spot doesn’t seem to be marked on any map.
- Yeah. You took a header out there. Thankfully, we found ourselves a new mate.
- Glad she arrived when she did; I’d wager you were only a few minutes away from being an apple fritter.
The apple begins to compose himself once more, regaining a bit of strength from the saline solution.
Regulus
- Our vacation plans may need a little tweaking, first mate.
APPLe
- As always, our course is up to the sole discretion of our captain. This APPLe is with you, wherever we go.
Regulus
- This town we’ve landed in has got some absolutely naff rules, Mr. APPLe. I’ve never seen a place more in need of our particular brand of rock’n’roller liberation.
- They’re even putting the clamps on us arcanists!
???
- Routine inspection.
- Routine inspection. Open up.
APPLe
- I don’t believe it would be wise to open the door, Captain.
Regulus
- Gotta hand it to them, these particular censorship stooges are quick on their feet. What I’d do for a fast boat and some open sea right about now.
APPLe
- I haven’t gotten our bearings yet, Captain. But I do believe we’re a few leagues out from the Pacific yet.
Regulus
- Too right, but we won’t let that keep us down, will we? I’ve got an idea.
- I’m not about to let these jackboots get their way.
A sudden radiance of arcane skill shimmers, covering the two of them in light.
Enforcer I
- …?
- It’s empty?
From his point of view, all that could be seen is a pristine, neatly arranged guest room.
A seemingly inanimate apple, albeit one adorned with a gentlemanly bow tie, lies on the pillow as if to give a touch of elegance.
Their little trick manages to fool the enforcer.
Enforcer I
- But the mayor said there’d be someone here. Could they be hiding?
The enforcer makes a brief check of the room, obliviously passing by Regulus’s bright optical illusion.
Enforcer I
- Maybe I got the room number wrong. Or some punk kid is playing tricks on me.
…
Regulus
- Phew! Wish I’d have gotten a heads-up about the brute squad.
- You do make for a convincing pillow mint, Mr. APPLe!
APPLe
- *cough* Pretending to be an inanimate object is far from my most challenging role.
- Some might call that “method acting.”
Regulus
- This is turning into a proper mess. How’d the fuzz get wise to us so quick?
APPLe
- Could be that your reputation precedes you, Captain.
Regulus takes note that the periodic guitar riffs that had punctuated the hotel’s hallways are gone now, leaving behind only the dim cacophony of hymnals from the street.
Regulus
- The rock gods above know I’m a patient woman, but I won’t tell a lie, Mr. APPLe. This barmy town is really getting on my nerves.
- No rock’n’roll and no unregistered arcanists.
APPLe
- It’s been less than an hour, and you’re already a wanted fugitive; I do believe this may be a new record, Captain.
Regulus
- …?
- Is it then? Well, that’s another feather in the old cap, innit?
- Course, that does make sense.
- If our presence here’s already got the “man” in a tizzy.
- Then you may just be right, Mr. APPLe. Our reputation does precede us.
APPLe
- From the Plymouth Shipyards to the L.A. Docklands, tales of your rock rebellion have doubtless made waves.
Regulus
- Still, I would’ve thought this place was a safe harbor. Why’d they let the enforcer in?
Regulus sits down on the bed, pondering aloud about the town’s ordinances.
Regulus
- So, all arcanists have got to register.
- And for some reason, you can’t have chocolate in bed.
- Then, as if this place couldn’t get more square, they ban rock music.
- Fab. Just fab. Well, there’s naught but one thing to do about it. We’ll need to break all those rotten rules at once.
She reaches into her bag and grabs a handful of red and green chocolates “borrowed” from the Foundation Christmas Party.
Next to appear is her record player and a few choice speakers. She checks the needle, loads her favorite vinyl, and adjusts the tonearm.
Regulus
- “Hmm hmm.”♪
- Last but not least …
She “disappears” into her flickering arcane light.
Regulus
- Let freedom rock!
She gives out a rebel yell—that falls neatly onto a mouthful of chocolate.
Regulus
- —!?
APPLe
- Captain, I do believe we’ve knocked out the power.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
Guests pour out from inside the inn, producing a bustling commotion livelier than when they first arrived.
APPLe
- Not sure I understand all the fuss. This seems like nothing more than a temporary outage.
- It should be over quickly.
Regulus
- How come the grid is so doggy? It’s done in just by a few speakers and an old vinyl player!
APPLe
- I’d suggest an alternative explanation. It looks like the authorities have set up a cordon around what appears to be the town’s power plant.
Regulus
- Just our luck, eh?
She removes her sunglasses and surveys the surroundings.
A crowd of young people lingers across the street, whispering to one another.
Regulus
- Any idea what they’re on about, Mr. APPLe?
APPLe
- This APPLe can only make out the words “Order of Enlightenment” …
Regulus
- The Order of Enlightenment, yeah? Riley mentioned them too. What’s their deal?
The term from an unfamiliar era leaves Regulus scratching her head.
Young Man
- It wasn’t us, man! This is total crap!
Enforcer I
- Well, whether it was or wasn’t, you’re coming with us.
Young Man
- On what charge? I know my rights! You can’t just haul us to jail for nothing!
The young people are soon flanked on each side by uniformed thugs; there’s a tension in the air that would match the best standoff of any spaghetti western.
Enforcer I
- We’ve had our eyes on you punks for a while now. Under the revised Gold Dust Morality Act, you’re suspected of organizing an illegal rock performance.
Regulus
- What! This is it. We’re not letting these thugs get away with arresting these kids!
APPLe
- Wait, Captain …
The crowd outside the hotel has gone eerily quiet as they watch the growing ranks of black-uniformed enforcers on the street.
APPLe
- Discretion may be the better part of valor at this moment.
Regulus
- Discretion, mate? Don’t you know me better than that?
The tension seems set to break when the moment is interrupted by the appearance of a sharp-dressed man that promptly strides up to the line of black-suited enforcers.
And just like that, the tension fizzles away as the young rockers hang their heads.
Enforcer I
- See, there’s nothing to worry about, son. Let’s just do this nice and easy.
- Come along with us. The mayor would like a word. This won’t take long.
Young Man
- Damn it. Whatever. Just don’t touch me. I can walk there myself.
As the commotion fades into a dejected whimper, the sharp-dressed man turns abruptly and makes a beeline for Regulus.
???
- Ah, a new face. What a blessed young lady.
Mayor Jonathan
- My name is Jonathan, Mayor and Chief Representative of the Order of Enlightenment in this town. We’ll be hosting a gathering at the Broadcast Theater tonight.
- I do hope to see you there, Miss.
The gentleman offers her a handwritten invitation; the fresh ink seems tinged in an oddly ominous hue.
Regulus
- What’s this about, eh? Some kind of show?
Mayor Jonathan
- Of sorts, yes. It’s our weekly Sunday hymnal, where we come together to lift our voices in praise.
Regulus
- In praise … to who?
She lowers her sunglasses to scan the invitation, catching her tongue on a particular title.
Regulus
- “The Sufferer”?
Mayor Jonathan
- Yes, the Sufferer. We gather to sing praises for THEIR sake.
Regulus
- So, you and all your little rozzers are going to be tilting your heads back and warbling for this “Sufferer” guy?
- Like Vertin and her little followers singing in a choir in school?
- You couldn’t catch me breathing at something as dullsville as all that.
- Thanks, but no thanks, mate.
Mayor Jonathan
- A shame to hear that, Miss, especially as a fellow arcanist.
- If you change your mind, you’re always welcome among us.
The gentleman’s gaze lingers meaningfully on the floating apple beside her.
APPLe
- …
Mayor Jonathan
- And that goes for every arcanist.
- I do hope you and your—“Mr. APPLe” was it?—will be submitting those registration papers soon.
- Have a pleasant stay here in Gold Dust. All we ask is that you mind our town’s ordinances. If you find yourself needing any assistance, do feel free to drop by the theater to see us.
- The Order of Enlightenment is always eager to assist.
The strange gentleman offers an odd bow, leaning on his cane, and hobbles off as the rest of his enforcers disperse.
Regulus
- Bit of a creep, eh?
- Order of Enlightenment? So this mayor is some kind of arcanist extremist; I wonder if Vertin and the Foundation might want to know about these guys.
- You ever hear of this lot, Mr. APPLe?
APPLe
- This APPLe hasn’t heard the name before, Captain. My apologies.
Regulus
- No prize for guessing this town’s dodgy rules are their doing.
Riley
- Hey, Regulus!
A familiar face waves to her from across the street.
And just as quickly races to meet her.
Riley
- Looks like your apple friend survived! Pleasure to meet you.
APPLe
- This APPLe is likewise charmed, I’m sure.
Riley
- Oh, and he’s got manners too!
She suppresses a laugh. It’s not every day she greets a talking apple.
Regulus
- She’s the top bird that gave us a lift.
- Good luck that she stopped when she did, or else I might’ve had to use that disk.
APPLe
- You’re a veritable hero, Miss.
Riley
- Hmm, what did you just say about a disk?
Regulus
- Oh, it’s a portable teleportation disk.
- It’s all on frequency; I was told it’s permitted for use under the Foundation’s Public Security Law.
- Well, that’s what they told me anyway. I never bothered reading them.
APPLe
- In essence, the guidelines dictate that all registered arcanists constrain themselves to pre-approved arcane skills.
- It’s a matter of ensuring that arcanum is used for the good of all.
- Though that part … seems to have fallen by the wayside lately.
APPLe concludes his statement on a low note, but it seems not to have thrown off the groove of his compatriots.
Riley
- Blah, blah. All I know is rules are meant to be broken, haha.
- Especially if breaking said dumb rule doesn’t do any harm.
She flourishes her statement with a laugh before popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth.
Riley
- See? Is there anybody in the world that’s put out over me having a bite of chocolate?
Regulus
- Smashing, love. Good to see I’ve found a fellow rebel.
Riley
- And not just one. We’ve got a whole bunch.
She holds out a chocolate ball, as if offering a badge of office.
Riley
- So, you in?
- We’re planning something fun—to bring a little excitement to this boring old town!
The two kindred spirits lock eyes; there is no question in Regulus’s mind.
Regulus
- You can count on me, pal.
- Oh! Make that count on us!
APPLe
- This APPLe need not say more. We’re with you, Ms. Riley.
He bobs up and down in the air as a show of courtesy.
Riley
- Alright, catch you two later.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Beetles Ballroom)
At night, they make their way through a secret passage beneath the hotel, traveling through layers of earthwork before arriving at an underground club.
Riley
- Hey!
- I found us a new friend!
Regulus
- Make that two new friends.
Regulus steps into the scene with her trademark flair.
Regulus
- So, this is your hideout?
Riley
- Well, yeah. It’s not much, just an old stage. All that’s left of an old speakeasy from a long time ago.
She gestured toward the performance area behind her.
Riley
- It’s not bad, except for the lighting, and the air down here can get stuffy.
- But hey, it’s somewhere to practice without those thugs breathing down our necks.
- You said you were some kind of Radio DJ back in the car, right? So you know music.
APPLe
- Miss Riley, when it comes to music, the Captain’s taste is world-class!
Four-Finger Johnny
- Is that a talking apple?
The band takes immediate interest in the appearance of the floating apple.
Regulus
- Too right he is! He’s the first and best mate of my crew!
Riley
- Oh yeah, well, I guess it’s time our crews met—
Riley presents her bandmates with electrifying showmanship.
Riley
- You’ve met Four-Finger Johnny on bass, and on guitar we’ve got the rockadelic Flash Lianna, hitting the drums we’ve got Warhammer Uni, and lastly on those electric ivories we’ve got Octopus Dmitry.
- And me—I sing.
With introductions out of the way, the newcomers are welcomed into their circle.
Riley
- We’re planning to record our own album and then distribute it to the people in town secretly.
- Here—
She presents their music in a very unusual format.
Regulus
- Whoa!
A stack of used x-ray film.
Regulus
- X-ray film!
- You’re recording music on these?
APPLe
- That’s quite the unusual technique.
Riley
- You got it, sister. It’s a trick we picked up from our Ruskie friend, Dmitry.
Not far away, Dmitry, busy tuning his keyboard, nodded in acknowledgment.
Riley
- Apparently, back in Russia, they had to sneak in American music on these “bone discs.”
- Metal as hell, don’t you think?
Regulus
- Bang on, mate. But, let’s get down to business.
- Why bother with old x-rays when we could just take over the Broadcast Theater?
…
Regulus pitches a curveball to her American friends.
The only noise that follows comes from the soft circling motion of the stage lights.
Regulus
- Oi, mates! Did I rock your brains out with that or something?
She adjusts her sunglasses before launching into her proposal.
Regulus
- Cutting records and distributing them … It’s all fine, yeah, but what’ll it really accomplish?
- Why not really make some noise?
- Head right down to the belly of the beast and put a show on that’ll blast them into the stratosphere!
- Now that’s how a real rockin’ pirate rolls!
APPLe
- Captain, I feel I must offer a bit of caution. You’re proposing quite a risky venture.
Riley
- Gotta agree with the apple; I don’t think I—we’re prepared to do something so … crazy.
The rest of the band grumbles out similar apprehensions.
Regulus
- C’mon, gang! Picture it—a pirate radio special here in Gold Dust!
- We’ll crank up the volume and blast our sound straight through their ban-happy skulls.
Four-Finger Johnny
- What, so, like, we just storm in waving our instruments in the air and mosh our way through to the stage?
- Then hijack their mics to sing all those songs they don’t want us to hear?
Regulus
- Sharp as a tack you are, Johnny.
The bassist stops for a moment before a wide wolfish grin stretches out over his face.
Four-Finger Johnny
- Metal! I’m in—I’m so in. What about you, Riley?
The bassist picks up his weapon of rock and plays an expectant riff.
The drums join in, followed by the keyboard.
Flash Lianna
- Getting tired of playing underground, aren’t you, Riley? Let’s hit a new venue.
Riley stands on stage, looking out over her friends as they sign on with the rockin’ pirate’s proposal, feeling their eyes lingering on her.
Riley
- …
- Sing? In front of … everyone? I don’t know … I don’t think I’m ready.
Enforcer I
- This must be the place!
Riley
- The hell!? How’d they find us?
APPLe
- Sounds like we’ve got uninvited guests.
Regulus
- Jackbooted censors!
- I guess we’ll have to give them a little preview, hard rock style!
The defeated enforcers are tied up with rope and tossed over to the edge of the stage.
Four-Finger Johnny
- Are we sure this is a good idea? Are these ropes gonna hold them?
Riley
- Relax, these ropes are plenty thick. They used them for the curtains, I think, back when this place had curtains.
Regulus
- But how did they find us here?
APPLe
- Could it be the letter, Captain?
Regulus
- Huh, you mean this old thing?
APPLe doesn’t answer directly, instead looking over the letter intently.
Four-Finger Johnny
- A letter?
APPLe
- I’m beginning to form a connection here, Captain.
- The mayor offered us this invitation back on the street. He said it was from the Order of Enlightenment, but something about it gave off an eerie sort of feeling.
- I do believe the ominous nature of this letter wasn’t just unease but arcanum!
Regulus
- Cor! But why’re they so bothered with us?
- Just because we didn’t want to register with them?
- The absolute cheek! Thinking they could put their stamp on us!
- I might tolerate the Foundation tracking me, but these half-pence peelers? Not on your life!
Riley
- See, this is why I was worried. We need to burn that letter and scatter while we can.
Regulus
- No …
- No. Because we’re gonna bring that letter right down to their little theater and walk in like we own the place!
- They want to bug me, eh? Well, what’s more rock ‘n’ roll than barging into their stronghold with their own tracker in hand?
- Get a move on; we’ve got a theater waiting for a show!
She turns to the tied-up guards.
Regulus
- Try those ropes as much as you like, lads. By the time you’re free, this town will be rocking out to a new kind of hymn.
- C’mon. We’ve got the gig of a lifetime ripe for the taking!
APPLe
- Captain …
Four-Finger Johnny
- I’m ready to rock, Captain.
Her crew grows one by one.
Flash Lianna
- Is life even worth living if you can’t make a little trouble?
Regulus
- Too right! We’re not just going to flip them the bird; we’re going to shove it right in their faces!
Flash Lianna
- That’s one hell of a way to put it!
She raises her guitar up like a sword, joining the Regulus’s growing crew.
Flash Lianna
- I always knew I had what it takes to be a pirate. Even though I can’t swim.
- The captain’s right, folks—
She turns to her fellow bandmates.
Flash Lianna
- And after the show, we’ll follow up with a revolution!
Four-Finger Johnny
- Speaking of revolutions, Lianna, I’ve got another great idea!
The “crew” buzzes with excitement, their plans and music echoing through the underground club.
APPLe
- Captain, I do believe they think we’re actual pirates.
Regulus
- Hah! Aren’t we?
She grabs the microphone—though it wasn’t yet powered—and issues her first order.
Regulus
- Alright, crew, grab your gear.
- Let’s set sail! Our destination: The Broadcast Theater!
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
Flash Lianna
- Hey, um … Captain, before we go, we don’t really know much about you.
She stamps out a spark at her feet. Not far away, the rest of the band is waving off some of the other kids from the club.
Flash Lianna
- But it doesn’t matter. I didn’t know anyone here at first either.
Regulus
- Yeah? How did all of you end up together?
In the parking lot nearby, the engine of Riley’s car revs up.
Flash Lianna
- The way I heard it, Johnny just spotted her in a bar one night, walked right up to her, and said, “Hey, wanna start a band?”
- He’s like gum, sticks to whoever he chooses. Right, Johnny?
Johnny wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead while he loads up the truck.
Four-Finger Johnny
- If you’ve got time to chitchat, you’ve got time to haul this gear!
Flash Lianna
- Chitchat? Whatcha talking about? The captain and I are strategizing here.
Regulus
- About the show, I sing too, don’t I, APPLe?
APPLe
- Ahem! *cough*
His response is politely noncommittal.
Flash Lianna
- Oh, you wanna be a part of the show? I guess I thought you’d be off doing pirate-y things.
- Y’know like grabbing a gun and storming the control room like a real badass.
Regulus
- No …
- I’m not the action and explosives sort of pirate, a few pyrotechnics excepted.
- But I do have my ways, I—
- Hey!
Riley
- The car’s ready. Are we all set up?
APPLe
- The captain was discussing the crew’s assignments with Lianna.
Riley
- Right on! So, what am I doing?
Regulus
- Hang about … Aren’t you singing?
Riley
- …
- I … just can’t. Not now.
Regulus goes uncommonly silent for a passing instant before springing back to life.
Regulus
- No worries, love! Then your rockin’ pirate friend will take the mic and blow those goons away on your behalf!
Riley
- Awesome. Count me in for whatever else I can do.
- Hop in, Captain.
Flash Lianna
- What gives, I’m not riding shotgun?
Riley
- Nah. Someone needs to make sure Johnny doesn’t crash the truck; we need our gear all in one piece for this show.
Riley
- You know, I was a DJ too, once upon a time. Had my own show at nine every night. “Don’t touch that dial! You’re listening to the Hard Rock Hour with Riley.”
- But that was before the town got taken over by those crazies. At first, it was just some restrictions on what I could play, but eventually, they started writing the set lists themselves.
- So, I gave them the finger and went back to my old job.
- Then I met Johnny, and he convinced me to join his band. Fight the power with music.
Regulus
- Radical, sister. I always knew we were two of a kind. Musical freedom fighters!
Riley
- Too right, mate.
Regulus
- Y’know I’m chuffed to be able to sing with your band. But, you ought to know, it should be you up there.
- But if you just want to be our wheelwoman and drive us around, that’s still fab.
- End of the day. We’re in this fight together. Just let’em try to stop us!
Riley
- Hahaha, thanks, Regulus. You know, there’s a story behind this car.
- My boozehound dad used to run “deliveries” with it—call it smuggling if you like.
- He loved music; can’t remember a time there wasn’t Charles Mingus, Elvis Presley … even Freddie Mercury playing when he pulled in from work.
Regulus
- So that’s where you got your love of rock’n’roll, eh? Your dad?
Riley
- Maybe, I guess I just started to connect the sound of that music with him coming home. Rock became the rhythm of my childhood, until …
Her words fade out into the soft rumble of the engine as they drive toward their destination.
Riley
- Maybe we should have all just piled into that truck. Would’ve been safer.
Regulus
- You’re safe as houses; you’ve got us two riding with you!
- This rockin’ pirate captain held off the Foundation itself once, when they came a-knocking!
She brags further about her “glorious exploits”—her brave standoff in the forest.
Regulus
- And that was far from even my greatest exploit, but I admit the recent ones were more of a team effort.
- Still, I’d say we’ve proved our punk credentials, haven’t we, Mr. APPLe?
APPLe
- Yes, I believe that would be an accurate use of the term “punk.”
Riley
- So, then this is far from your first rodeo.
- But do you think we can really make a difference, or are we just making noise?
Regulus
- Noise? Not a chance! Defiance against all odds. That’s the true pirate way!
Riley
- I’m starting to think you really are a pirate.
APPLe
- As a matter of fact, the captain did own a ship engaged in illegal activities.
Regulus
- Not just one, mate! Don’t forget our dearly departed APPLe II!
Two generations of APPLe lost to the deep, one in battle and one battling through storms.
Riley
- That must’ve been heartbreaking. I can’t imagine what I’d feel like if I lost this old jalopy.
Regulus
- It doesn’t matter none. This rockin’ pirate won’t be stuck shoreside forever.
APPLe
- We should consider making an application with the Foundation; I’m certain the Timekeeper would be happy to assist, though based on my understanding of the Foundation’s current financial state, Captain …
- I recommend we not hold our proverbial breath.
Riley
- The Foundation? So, what are you, a licensed pirate now? Haha!
APPLe
- Historically, this APPLe believes the term would be “privateer.”
Their vessel bobs over potholes like waves on a choppy sea.
Whether it’s the rocky road or their looming destination, Regulus notes the grip her helmsman has on the wheel.
And on land or sea, any captain worth her salt knows what calms nerves on the eve of battle.
Regulus
- “Hey, pal, quit feeling so blue.”♪
- “Sing away the sadness, let the joy shine through.”♪
Riley
- Bahahaha, I gotta say, Miss Regulus, if you’re going to be the lead singer …
- You’re definitely about to bring down the house.
- It’s just up ahead. Let’s hop out here.
Regulus
- Brill! Now to give these knuckle-dragging jackboots a real blowout show.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Opera House Station)
Regulus
- This place is pretty swank up close, I gotta say.
Riley
- Yeah, back when this town was flush with gold, they built it as a fancy kind of opera hall.
Regulus
- That’d explain it. Opera was never my jam, y’know. Why spend all that money to hang around some stuffy, old geezers?
APPLe
- Ms. Riley, where were we to meet Mr. Johnny and the others?
Riley
- They’re gonna pull around back and unload. So, I guess that leaves us to find a way in.
Regulus doesn’t wait for the answer; she heads right to the door of the theater.
Regulus
- Hang on a tic. Wasn’t there supposed to be a “gathering” here?
Her words reverberate through the empty theater as a single figure rises from the seats below.
Mayor Jonathan
- I’m glad to see you’ve changed your mind about our invitation.
The gentleman’s gaze shifts from her to the bobbing apple that has rushed in behind her.
Mayor Jonathan
- Mr. APPLe.
APPLe
- Mayor. I do hope you don’t mind, but we’ve brought a few other guests.
Mayor Jonathan
- Not at all. I’m honored to have you all here to join our service.
APPLe
- About that, sir … We intend to make some changes to tonight’s performance.
Flash Lianna
- Hey, Captain! Let’s bust some heads and rock out—
Her crewmates barge in behind them with a crash, holding their instruments high.
Regulus
- Fab, Lianna. Get your gear up on stage and set us up.
Mayor Jonathan
- I take it these are your guests, Mr. APPLe?
APPLe
- Exactly, sir. We thought we’d offer our help to liven up the service.
Mayor Jonathan
- Of course. How thoughtful of you. Though we may just need a larger venue for tonight’s banquet.
Flash Lianna
- Oh, and Captain, I hope you don’t mind, but we figured we’d swing through town and pick up a few more friends.
Regulus
- Friends?
Four-Finger Johnny
- Yeah, my girl, Anna, and a bunch of other folks tired of these bastards running our town!
- Hahahah, is this all you Order of Enlightenment thugs could manage for a turnout?
Flash Lianna
- It’s for the best if you ask me! I’d rather be playing for a live audience than some old busybodies.
- This town has been crying out for freedom! Now, we’re going to do something about it! We’ve all been itching for a way to break out and finally do something big.
Dust, cheers, excitement, and restlessness pour in waves down the road—one car, then another, as a convoy of cars and people make their way through the town toward the theater.
Folks young and old come together in the streets, ripping down the repressive notices as they go, all headed in one direction.
Mayor Jonathan
- Would have been nice to get a little more warning if you were fixing to invite so many … guests.
The gentleman’s once “affable” tone turns rotten as he drawls out the words.
Mayor Jonathan
- Especially when so many of them are exactly the type of undesirables we’ve been trying to keep out.
- Ladies and gentlemen, I do regret to remind you that this particular gathering is for arcanists only, so I would ask that you show your registration forms before you—
Riley
- Pardon me, Mayor, but I think you ought to reconsider that policy.
…
The vocalist had snuck up behind the mayor and now presses the metal barrel of her gun to his back.
Of course, the only thing in the chamber is a burst of confetti, but he’s in no position to figure that out.
Mayor Jonathan
- What in tarnation is going on?
Regulus
- Didn’t you hear us? We’re putting on a show.
Her companions rush to set up their equipment on stage.
Regulus
- Been thinking this town could use a little change of genre. We thought we might switch things up and do a bit of the old gospel.
- That’s right! The gospel of the Gods of Rock’n’Roll! Something to liven up the ghosts of this old town.
Riley
- The control room’s upstairs. I’ll handle it. Once the music starts, I’ll have us blaring from every speaker in town!
Familiar with the venue, Riley palms the gun over to Regulus—the barrel still pointed firmly at the unfortunate gentleman’s waist.
Mayor Jonathan
- You punk kids don’t know what you’re doing; it was one thing to want to play your trash music, but now you’ve gone too far. The Order of Enlightenment does not tolerate dissent.
The cold steel is prodded against his waist again.
Mayor Jonathan
- But I suppose it doesn’t matter to scoundrels like you, does it? You didn’t even bother to ask if you could. Better just to use force.
Regulus
- Don’t go acting all high and mighty, mate. You and your thugs have kept this town under your boot for too long, and this, this is your comeuppance.
Mayor Jonathan
- We can still end this peacefully, Miss. If you lower the gun now, we can discuss terms—
Enforcer I
- Stop right there! Everyone, hands in the air!
A commanding voice booms from outside. Riley halts mid-step up the stairs, and the band members look up from the set as a wave of Order of Enlightenment enforcers barge into the theater.
They push their way up towards the stage armed with batons, a familiar face leading the way.
Four-Finger Johnny
- I knew they’d get out of those old ropes!
Mayor Jonathan
- Now that everyone’s here, perhaps we might revisit our negotiations.
Standing tall from his position on stage, the mayor surveys the theater as though assessing a battlefield between two opposing armies.
Enforcer II
- Back up! Everyone, step back! Drop what you’re holding!
Enforcer III
- Don’t move!! Don’t think for a second I won’t smack you down!
They raise their weapons, hoping a show of force will quench the flames of rebellion.
Audience Member I
- What the hell are you doing!? We’re your neighbors for God’s sake! Are you trying to start a bloodbath?
Enforcer II
- No, sir, we’re just here to uphold the law and protect our duly elected mayor.
Audience Member II
- Law? You really going to call all these stupid ordinances you’ve passed the law?
- First it was the arcanist registration, now you’re banning music, and arresting kids! You “Enlightenment” thugs have gone off the deep end!
Enforcer III
- Listen! Take one more step forward, and you’re all going straight to jail!!
Hands gripping weapons tremble, as do the ones clutching instruments. But no one steps back.
Audience Member I
- We just want to have a concert.
Regulus
- Exactly. A rock concert.
The gun barrel lifts away from the mayor’s waist, and as it does, he breathes a sigh of relief.
Mayor Jonathan
- Good. Now let’s all behave like reasonable peo—
- —ple …!
Of course there’s no bullet and no blood.
Only harmless, colorful ribbons.
Regulus
- What? I thought this scene could use a bit of a festivity.
The loud pop brings every eye in the theater straight to the mayor and the pirate.
A moment of silence passes as the ribbons begin to land on the gentleman’s coat. His expression shifts from shock to stupor and then to fury.
Mayor Jonathan
- Damn it! Arrest them! Don’t let any of these punks escape!
His words proved the perfect signal to raise the curtain and start the show.
Audience Member I
- Damn it!! My guitar!!!
Audience Member III
- Hey! Give it back!
Enforcer II
- Back off! You’re breaking the law! The mayor’s rules are clear—you’re—
A drumstick to the head cuts off his lecture. The snapped stick is grabbed and thrown away into the throng of people.
Enforcer II
- You brat! I’ve had enough of you stirring up trouble!
Audience Member II
- Well, we’ve had enough of you!
Audience Member III
- Don’t let them ruin this show!!
The roiling crowd boils over, unleashing a primal scene as batons and arcane skills fly.
Riley fights her way past the thugs to the second floor as the band gears up to play over the brawl.
Somewhere, a record player blares to life, a strange floating tune flooding the gaps between the bodies.
“We’ll all return to dust someday. History won’t even remember our names.”♪
A hat, launched like a cannonball, flies through the air, only to be swatted back by APPLe.
Regulus
- Hey, whoever picked that record—great taste.
Flash Lianna
- Captain! You’re on the mic! Get up here!
The stage becomes an island over the chaotic sea. Lianna swings her guitar like a club, knocking a hapless thug back into the growing mosh pit below.
“Embrace your troubles; don’t wait until the sea floods your ears.”♪
Mayor Jonathan
- You absolute dolts! What was the purpose of filling all of your pockets if you can’t even do your damn jobs! Upstairs! Someone’s upstairs—go—
The mayor’s voice fails to cut through the cheers and shouts as the crowd breaks through the line of his stooges and makes their way to him.
Mayor Jonathan
- Damn it! What the hell do you think you’re going to accomplish with this mess!?
Regulus
- Consider this a declaration of independence, as you Yanks would call it. These people want freedom, and we’re here to give it to them!
Mayor Jonathan
- Get your filthy hands off my coat! I’ll remember your face! Shut off that record player! Just wait. There’ll be new laws by morning.
The mayor is swallowed up by the crowd.
“No one’s the same. But we’re all yearning for the same thing.”♪
Regulus strides through the storm, dodging flying guitars, batons, and people. Cloaked in cheers and curses, she climbs atop the stage.
Audience
- ROCK—
- ROCK, ROCK, ROCK!!
“Shining moments. Forever unchanging.”♪
Lianna retrieves a new guitar. Johnny makes a final check on the tuning. Now the whole crew stands ready, and the speakers crackle with static.
As Regulus, like a pirate queen of metal, grasps the microphone in her hands.
Regulus
- Hear me now! As I declare! Right here in Gold Dust!
- That tonight is the end! No more stupid laws, no more bans!
- No rules! None at all! Gone today, gone tomorrow!
Regulus
- Now! Gold Dust, clean out those ears!
- Turn up your radios and crank the volume to the max!
- Let me hear you people! Raise those voices up and throw up those hands! ‘Cause tonight we’re delivering you the soundtrack of the revolution!
- Order of Enlightenment? People of Gold Dust—!
- Let’s give them a taste of what true enlightenment looks like!!
One week later
(The Suitcase )
Sonetto
- …
Regulus
- And that’s how APPLe and I missed the concert.
- Can you believe they locked us up for three whole days?! Three days! For what?
A newspaper on the table reads, “Troublemakers Disrupt Religious Service, Hold Mayor Hostage.”
A certain apple under arrest.
Six young individuals with their “criminal instruments,” a “pop gun,” and plenty of smiles.
Alongside 233 other music lovers.
Sonetto
- If it weren’t for the Foundation and Timekeeper stepping in, you’d have been in there for far longer, and you wouldn’t have gotten your records back.
- I hope you might learn something of a lesson from all this.
- Don’t you recall, back at the School of Apeiron, all that trouble we got in over breaking rules?
- Now, about that group you mentioned—the Order of Enlightenment … Do you still have the letter they sent you?
Regulus
- Oh, you want this? Fine, consider it a little souvenir from my ordeal.
She hands over the letter to Sonetto’s waiting hand.
Sonetto
- The Foundation will be looking into them; if what you’ve told us is accurate, it may merit further investigation.
- Oh, but we did receive a letter for you. From a … “Riley”?
Regulus
- Riley? Give it here! I gotta know what my sister in rock is up to now!
Regulus grabs the letter. The envelope is adorned with a hand-drawn image of several people holding instruments.
Regulus
- Dear Captain—
Riley
- Dear Captain, our concert was absolutely incredible! I’ve never seen a crowd so alive!
- Word has it, the whole town erupted after our performance that night! It’s such a shame we didn’t get to see much of the reaction.
- Not that it mattered much, I guess. The Order of Enlightenment steamrollered back in the next day. Nothing changed—same old laws, some new ones too. People act like nothing even happened.
- Whatever. Let those thugs keep piling on the rules. They’ll keep burning our records to ash and drowning out the airways with their droning hymns about chains and pens.
- In short, we did **** all.
- The Order of Enlightenment’s grip, that grumpy mayor—all of it’s still here.
- So, maybe tomorrow will suck as much as the next day.
- But for that brief moment, we were free.
- And if some kid asks about real music one day, I’ll be able to tell them the truth.
- You said it, Captain, rock is the soundtrack of the revolution. And I have to believe that one day, we’re going to win.
Sonetto listens silently as the letter concludes, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.
Regulus
- Riley’s really got a way with words. I hope she makes it back to the mic one day.
Sonetto
- Well, it does sound like you had a fun time at least.
Regulus
- Fun? Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Sonetto nods faintly, then changes the subject.
Sonetto
- Your friend’s letter gave me much to think about—about music, about Gold Dust, about rock. I suppose there is still a lot I have to learn.
- For instance, I’m actually quite curious what all the fuss is about “rock music.” From what I understand, the genre has a great deal to do with the rebellion of youth and …
Regulus
- Stop, stop! Don’t over-analyze it.
- Rock’n’roll isn’t complicated, Sonetto.
- Rock is rock. That’s it. That’s all.
(THE END)