Lost Plots

At the Lost Plots Crisis meeting, they gathered around the long boardroom table, which they had purloined from the tyrant’s palace. Some pastries and an enormous flask of coffee held station, like a tiny skyscraper city, somewhere near the middle.

Ranged, The Blue Knight, his mentor She Sphinx, the Spotlight, a newcomer to all this, Sheba, the Sphinx’s partner in crime and the Blue Woman Knight, The Blue Knight’s partner and combat training expert.

We have lost the Plot, said the Blue Knight, I admit that I got sidetracked by some shiny things and let go of the Thread. I have managed to find the Thread again, but it seems to have gone limp and become directionless. I call this extraordinary meeting to order, in order to find a way to reinvigorate the Thread and refocus my Quest once more.

Have you tried knitting the Thread into some kind of garment? said the Sphinx, I’m seeing a type of sleeveless sweater, perhaps in a diamond pattern.

Take it seriously, said Sheba over her shoulder, This is important.

The Sphinx went back to its tail care.

I think that I can reinvigorate the thread if I can imbue it with some kind of purpose, said the Blue Knight, ignoring the Sphinx’s remarks, Perhaps bringing water to the thirsty or knowledge to those thirsty for knowledge or the old favourite, justice to the unjust.

I’ve always been keen on justice, said Sheba, There’s not much of it about these days.

Perhaps we could stiffen the Thread’s resolve with some kind of resin product, said the Blue Woman Knight, or weave it into a net to catch a thief?

If we combine the resin with some kind of fiber product, said Sheba thoughtfully, we may be onto something. We could always strengthen it with fiberoptics and disseminate useful technical information to those in need of clean water, a roof over their heads and uninterrupted internet access.

That sounds like a plan, said the Spotlight, I’ve always wanted to broaden the access to information by shining a light in the dark. I’m in.

That feels right, said the Blue Knight, Ill mix up a pot of resin? Has anyone got a secret stash of fibre optics.

All the players at the table, either languishing, (She Sphinx), or sitting attentively at the table, looked around at each other to see who would come up.

I know where the optic fiber grows, said the Sphinx, without looking up from its tail care, I could, I suppose, with a little help and a recharged electric flying carpet, harvest some, for the group, you understand.

Do it, said Sheba, I shall accompany to ensure that you are not distracted, I know you.

May I also, said the Spotlight, I am new to this questing lark and would broaden my experience. Also, I don’t weigh anything and I can be transported in the torch app of most modern smartphones.

And so it was decided, the flying carpet was charged overnight and Sheba packed her sampling kit, always on the lookout for rare herbs and spices. She gathered her hair from the corners of the room and twisted it carefully under her clever hat.

The Spotlight, installed in Sheba’s Smartphone, synced its compatibility with the torch app and polished its lenses.

They set out at new sun time from high on the fortress walls, with no fanfare or committee members to wave away.

Which way is it to go, said Sheba over the rising wind.

I don’t know exact, said the Sphinx, but I can smell the leaves of the fiber optic tree with my atomic sensors, so it shouldn’t take long, lets fly about a bit, enjoy the scenery and I’ll soon pick up the trace elements.

What is the name of this tree? Someone asked, Donald, replied The Sphinx. Sheba sighed.

They circled in a widening gyre for some passing, until the Sphinx’s sensors pinged and a direction was settled.

Sheba, holding onto her hat in case and peering over the carpet edge asked, What exactly? A forest in the wild or a plantation of ordered structure?

I have read that it is grown in a disappointing monocultural field, said the Sphinx, The birds do not, neither the insects nor antelopes.

In the distance an orderly field of mighty trees stretched away across the land.

This is us, said the Sphinx, pushing the stop bell to alert the driver, and brought the carpet low into the edge of the shade.

The Fibers that we seek are part of the trunk cover or bark, supplied she Sphinx, only one can be taken from each unless they perish. Let us collect, how many do you need?

Let’s start with one hundred, said Sheba? I have a feeling.

Sheba, as it transpired the only member of the team with suitable hands, began to harvest the optic fibers, cutting each one free with tiny pairing secateurs which she always carried and coiling the coils carefully into her backpack.

The Sphinx and the Spotlight sat beneath, out of the sun, now at its top bit.

Can I ask, opened the spotlight, May I ask your provenance, one does not encounter many mythical immortal creatures of your magnitude every day.

Ask away, said the Sphinx

How on earth do you keep your tail in such wonderful condition? Said the Spotlight, When I cast my light upon it, it glows with all the colours of the rainbow, and some colours that have not been seen on this earth.

I think we are going to get along just fine, said she Sphinx.

Sheba appeared and set down her burden. Come, she said to the Sphinx, I have need of your sensory abilities, we may have a problem.