With a frisson of anticipation, Elvis whistled the Col Bogey March; the others fidgeted impatiently, riding the pneumatic swift up to the docking pontoon. From the grimy cabin, they watched Capt Baker priming the engines, warming up the Saskatoon and recalibrating the stealth camouflaging; the airship twinkled, changing its outward appearance and concealing itself with forged Futurist markings before disappearing completely.

Their journey to the Pleasuredome, a hop, skip and a jump across town, would see them cloaked out to the shipping lanes of the English Channel, where they would reappear legitimately on Futurist radars, whence they would u-turn and head back to the city – a roundtrip of about ninety minutes.

Alistair ticked off a mental checklist to be sure he was carrying everything he owned. Balderick sat on his head, scratching as he looked out over the urban skyline, munching on biscuit pieces Alistair fed up to him.

"Don't squeeze those too hard," Julian warned Chelsea as she rolled a sparkler around her fingertips. "They're quite the nifty little deterrent."

"What? Like this?" she teased, deliberately pinching the sparkler membrane between her gnashing teeth.

"Be a dear and suck it like a gobstopper," Julian suggested. "I could do with the peace and quiet."

"Do you think it was wise to give explosives to a child," Delilah asked disapprovingly.

"Mere child's play," Julian shrugged.

"Oh sparklers," Rocket noticed cheerfully. "Nice." he added, snatching the one off Chelsea and flicking it out the window only for it to detonate with a pop/bang. "It's all in the flick!"

"Must you? Those things could take an eye out!" Delilah said curtly in annoyance. "And Mr D'Gama, would you please cease that god-awful whistling?"

The swift stopped and so did the whistling.

"Leave your inhibitions at the door," Julian jested as they shuffled on to the pontoon.

"Everyone got their Looney?" Elvis asked. All nodded and the doors closed. Elvis fished a small packet of pictures from his breast pocket as they began their ascent. "I figured if the Cap'n can do it, so can I," he grinned handing each of the team a black and white photograph of a sweet looking lady, pouting seductively at the camera.

Julian laughed heartily. "You cow," he snorted.

"Who is it?" Alistair asked innocently.

"Essy," Chelsea answered.

"What is this?" Delilah sniffed.

"It's a copy of the one out the Cap'n's locker," Elvis admitted. "It'll bring you extra special good luck."

Rocket admired the picture. "She's a good sort."

"The best!" Elvis sighed. "Ain't been the same since she's gone."

"He's going to skin you alive," Julian warned. Elvis shrugged as he pulled his thick scarf tight around his neck.

"I'm just 'aving a larf," he trailed off as foul wind blasted them. The uninviting sky heaved with falling snow and even the Skyboards were having trouble breaking through. Alistair shivered and couldn't see the Saskatoon but could hear airship engines above the moan of the wind-farms. The cabin door opened and light spilled out from the Saskatoon as a gangway extended out on to the landing platform.

"All aboard," Capt Baker called over a bullhorn. This was the moment for anyone to back out and call the whole thing off.

"Tonight is forever" Julian remarked, hitching up his collar. "Tell me now if you disagree."

They paused to think.

"If it's any consolation, this is the day...this is the hour...I shan't think of the future tonight," Julian added. The impending execution was advertised in a flurry of spin, guaranteeing a great night for all.

"It's sad to think my grandfathers life could be summed up in such a trite blurb," Alistair winced.

"They think this is all over," Julian quipped.

"Not if we can help it," Alistair motivated, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. "Ich bin ein Englander."

"Well my dearie, if this is Christmas, I hope you have fun," Julian smiled.

"Let's get this band on the run," Elvis corralled. "And mind the gap."

"Death before surrender," Rocket roared, fuelled by testosterone, lurching forward like a typical marine. The rest clattered along the gangplank and boarded the ship with Elvis slamming an interior button to retract the gangway; the cabin hatch hissed shut.

With heavy winds buffeting the airship, Delilah hauled herself up to the cockpit whilst everyone else found seats, stowed their collection of weapons and strapped in. Alistair spied the Wurlitzer securely fastened next to Tunny and realised Julian was not going to lose all his possessions. Julian used a remote and selected The Clash's London Calling as mood music for the ride.

Elvis stood in the middle of the cabin.

"Welcome aboard the Saskatoon, in association with Plummet Air. Touch o' housekeeping. Please be aware of your emergency exit. Please do not take your seatbelts off until the Cap'n says it is safe to do so. Oxygen masks will not be deployed in the case of emergency. There is neither in-flight entertainment nor refreshment and we thank you for flying the miserable skies with us."

He walked to each passenger and handed them an airsickness bag.

"Try not to use this," Elvis laughed as he slapped Alistair's chest with three of the bags. "Don't you wish you took that second Looney now?" Elvis continued to cackle as he wobbled his way to his seat and strapped in. Unrolling his Flapjack computer over his knees like a towel, he garbled the sensors and ensured their falsified security clearances passed without hiccup.

The Saskatoon eased away from the pontoon, so Rocket caught some quick zzz's and Julian flipped open a small compact and began to apply jet-black lipstick with a hint of glitter, without smearing any, then touched up his mascara. The Saskatoon's belly groaned as Capt Baker fired the thrusters; jolted, Alistair sat, chewing his lip and stroked Balderick, finding a new level of fear, hoping his heart wouldn't beat out of chest. Chelsea scoffed as he tried to settle his nerves and she tore open a ration bar and snacked.

Manoeuvring stealthily through the New London skyscrapers Julian looked over at Alistair and smiled.

"We're awfully close to those buildings," he teased, then began patting the parachute under his seat. "I sure hope we won't require these."

Alistair went green and shoved an airsickness bag around his mouth.

"Ewwww," Julian squirmed and Elvis looked up and slapped his thigh.

"Oi, Alistair. Want an avocado and salmon milkshake?" Elvis teased.

Alistair filled the bag.

"If you think that's ill, just wait until the Fleet gets a load of this lil' spanner," he chortled as he stubbed his finger on to the 'enter' button. He reassigned everyone out of Bigger Ben, especially around the Hub, before manipulating a number of Futurist systems in their favour and set about corrupting Guards' systems with 'slow burn', a crippling computer virus that took time to take full effect.

As Alistair wiped his mouth even Balderick hopped to the adjacent seat to escape the sickly boy.

"Don't worry," Chelsea yelled as another wind surge rocked the ship's superstructure. "We'll be there soon."

Not soon enough Alistair thought mournfully, reaching for a second airsickness bag.