A few minutes later, a man walked in with a neatly trimmed gray beard and short gray hair. He wore a red silk slash over his tweed suit, marking him as someone of significance.

Conversation quieted down as he walked to the front. He nodded to Bixby, then turned and faced the crowd.

At this point, Rip noticed the door to the box seat opened, and a man entered it dressed in an expensive dark suit. Three other men followed him. Two looked hardened and tough, like bodyguards. The third seemed more like a college professor than anything else.

The man with the red slash noticed their entry, too. He nodded politely at them.

“Gentlemen, may I have your attention? I am Earl of Thorndale, Percival Hedgefield, Director of the Royal Venture Society. I welcome His Majesty, King Allo IV to our meeting today.”

Those who had not noticed the king’s entrance now craned their neck for a look. Allo had taken a seat, and he raised his hand in a lazy wave, acknowledging the attention.

“I would like to share some background as to what has led to this mission we are discussing today, and the remarkable account I am quite certain Baron Swathmore will be sharing with us momentarily. As you are all aware, Darhaven forces have recently shown an uptick in above-the-surface activities.”

The murmurs picked up again for a moment and Hedgefield paused to let them quiet down.

Rip noticed in the front row a small group of men and one woman, all wearing hats even though they were inside. Cards stuck out of the hatbands with one word printed out in thick block letters: “Press.” They scribbled furiously in notepads as the earl spoke.

“Bearing that in mind, Dr. Henson Oggolopoli here, as many of our esteemed guests from the Lyceum know, has made great strides in opening doorways to parallel worlds. This is an obscure field of study, but one in which much progress has been made recently from what I understand.”

More murmurs, but softer this time. Rip again felt the eyes of most people in the audience shift toward him for a moment.

“Three nights ago, Darhaven operatives absconded with Dr. Oggolopoli from his domicile. They escaped in a black airship. Fortunately, sky watchers in Ethinium and to the north were able to provide us with a good sense of where they took him, the Gretna Green steam vault.”

The reporters continued scribbling furiously. Rip wondered how much of this story was public knowledge. By the expressions on their faces, it seemed like this was the first the reporters had heard of it.

“Now, with that as background, you can understand why the Royal Venture Society submitted a priority mission request to find and retrieve Dr. Oggolopoli. One of our best teams, led by Baron Swathmore here, responded to the call. As to what happened next, we are here to listen to his report. I will ask you to withhold your questions until the end.”

He turned then and nodded to Bixby, who stood and walked around the table.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“I am Baron Swathmoor, Colonel Thomas Bixby of His Majesty’s Royal Army, Third Cavalry.”

Rip noticed one additional lady in the front row, punching keys on a machine as people spoke. He decided she must be a stenographer.

“You hold the class of Officer, is that not correct, Lord Bixby?”

“That is correct. It has served me well in leading this venture team, which I will continue to do so long as my services are not needed by His Majesty in our armed forces.”

He looked up at the box seat and nodded to the king, who nodded back.

“Very well. Please relay to us in detail your experiences in the Gretna Green steam vault.”

Bixby nodded and began speaking, addressing both the crowd and the earl, as well as the king.

“We obtained passage north via the Steel Comet, and dropped down by rope to the vault’s inner circle. The pilot, he’s a good man, waited for our return in the clouds nearby while my infiltrator, Mr. Chance here, picked the lock on an outer entrance. We obtained access to the first level without any trouble.”

Chance beamed at the praise. He winked at the female reporter, who blushed and furiously jotted down notes.

“Gretna Green’s steam vault has been explored extensively over the centuries, at least the upper levels. We had a map from the society, showing ingress and egress points and known rooms near the top. We saw a few steam workers whilst making our way down, but met no true resistance until Level 10. At that point, a group of Sewer Troopers engaged, giving us our first nasty row.”

Eyebrows went up in the crowd and a few people leaned over to whisper with one another.

Rip had the impression seeing troopers at that level was unusual, based on the crowd’s reactions.

“We managed well enough, although our downward progress slowed considerably after that. More and more troopers came after us. On Level 12, we met a bit of a bother when two groups attacked from opposite ends of the corridor. They came out of nearby rooms, surprising us. We were left with no choice but to surrender at that point. Fortunately they did not take the opportunity to off us, but instead locked us in a confinement area. I don’t mind saying the size of the cells were quite unbearable. Not much larger than a wardrobe.”

This brought a reaction from the crowd.

Rip overheard someone mutter, “Barbarians!”

“And there we stayed for a while. Some time later, a lone worker came in carrying keys to the cells, and set about bothering us.”

Rip glanced at Blair. She smiled at the tactful omission of what, exactly, the worker was bothering them about.

“At that point, I won’t lie, it was most fortuitous that Sergeant Coulter appeared. He had acquired an enhanced wrench in his sojourns through the vaults, and he was able to quickly dispatch the worker and free us from our cells.”

All eyes again turned to Rip.

“With his help, we managed to make it to Level 13 and locate Dr. Oggolopoli. Gradually we came to realize the good doctor had managed to summon the sergeant to our world by using a Hallwood T-1 connected to the appropriate electrical equipment.”

This brought several gasps of disbelief, especially among those wearing white lab coats.

Bixby nodded, as if to underscore his statement.

“Yes, somehow Darhaven forces managed to obtain a T-1. Not only that, they also procured an electrical resonance transformer and attached the two. Dr. Oggolopoli informed us his captors demanded he perform the experiment to open a passageway between worlds. He complied, but made sure the process occurred one level up, thus thwarting Darhaven in receiving their prize.”

Oggolopoli nodded along as the colonel spoke. He fidgeted and twisted in his seat, though. Rip thought he must be itching to tell his part of the story.

“Resistance picked up exponentially after this. Thanks to the valiant efforts of my team, including Mr. Chance and Lady Brooke, as well as our newest addition, Sergeant Coulter, we were at last able to overcome the guardian statue in Level 13’s lift room and rise to the surface.”

Bixby paused dramatically. Rip thought maybe he was giving the reporters time to get his words down. Their pencils danced over paper.

“An incredible number of troopers made it to the surface about the same time as us. They streamed into the inner circle, shooting willy-nilly. We would have lost it all at that moment had not Mr. Powell, Steel Comet’s pilot extraordinaire, arrived to pick us up in the nick of time.”

He smiled, glancing back at the table before continuing.

“And thus concludes our public report. We claimed one guardian statue’s breadboard, taken by Dr. Oggolopoli, and one enhanced wrench liberated from the vaults by Sergeant Coulter. Other than the reward money for successfully completing the mission, Bixby’s Bandits took nothing of value from below beyond some purloined ammunition for our guns, and maybe a couple inferior broomhandle firearms.”

Bixby nodded to Hedgefield and returned the floor to the earl.

“Thank you, Lord Bixby, for keeping things brief. In light of the fact His Majesty is in attendance, I ask that we respect the crown’s time. We will allow only the briefest span for questioning.”

Murmurs of discontent sprang up but Hedgefield brushed them aside, unconcerned.

He pointed to a tall man with thick sideburns traveling down the side of his neck like cranial drapes.

“Lord Humphries, I’m sure you have a query for our party?”

The man in question stood, and the murmurs hushed. A black cape covered him, which he had not bothered to take off inside.

He pointed a long, bony finger at Rip and said, “It seems to me this man appeared out of nowhere, and no one witnessed his so-called arrival into our realm. I should like some proof this man hails from another world, besides Lord Bixby’s word on the matter. Let us hear from the rascal himself, shall we?”

All eyes once again turned toward Rip.

He glanced at Bixby and Hedgefield, who both nodded at him.

He gulped, and slowly slid back his chair to stand up.