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‘She may be
what she is but I love her more than life itself,’ said Adam,
holding his painful head.

‘She’s very
special, she saved our lives up there,’ said Zol.

‘More than
special, she gives us everything and I don’t want to loose her,’
said Adam with an emotional choke developing.

‘You won’t
loose her, you’ll always be there. Whenever the real Adam pisses
her off, lets her down, falls short of being her perfect gentleman,
you’ll be there. You’ll take his place. You are a very fortunate
man.’ said Zol quietly.

‘Doesn’t it
bother you?’ asked Adam seriously.

‘Yes it does. I
have so much money, so much power and it matters not a jot. I
misguidedly tried to fund an extended life by keeping her here but
now I know that was immoral.’

‘And
unsuccessful,’ interrupted Adam.

‘Yes quite. I
realise now, everything here in this world is a gift. We must
accept matters and make the most of it while we have it.’

‘She’ll
remember you too… with a name like that, she’s bound to!’ Adam
smirked

Zol smiled and
patted Adam on the back.

‘I suppose I
better go and see the state of the old girl,’ said Zol.

Madeline roused
with a jolt just as the Zol left the plane.

‘I’m still
alive! Missed anything,’ she chirped cheerfully.

‘Just a right
old pounder, almost gone now,’ said Adam.

Chapter 45:
Off the shoulder number

Eggynogg was
like no other place Madeline or Adam had ever been before. Surely
the surface of the moon was more hospitable than here. It was
ridiculously cold and apparently remained freezing, even in the
summer. No trees, plants or flowers, all to cold for that. It was
bleak, sparsely populated and untidy but it had its own beauty.
Mountains in the background as old as time, bare, grey, splattered
in snow, swaddled the small town. The indigenous People however
were hardened to it, would have it no other way and because of
their isolation knew little of Madeline Bull. This was
refreshing.

It was peaceful
and stress free and Madeline especially, loved it. Even though the
buildings bore a severe lack of any architectural skills, they were
considerately painted in bold primary colours to brighten the place
up – how nice.

The Learjet
was, as expected, grounded until parts could be flown over. Parts
for Learjets, not surprisingly, were not stocked anywhere
close.

Zol, with all
his money managed to seal a deal on an old Dakota style aeroplane.
Clearly it had awaited adoption at the side of the runway for many
months if not years. Of course the old bird had nothing like the
range of the Learjet but hopefully it would get them to some sort
of civilisation.

It would take a
day to get it ready and fuelled, this meant time together in one of
the most remote parts of the world. With remoteness came a
different life style - very little luxury, not the best of
restaurants or the most comfortably hotel rooms. In fact there were
no hotels or restaurants in the small town. The previous owner of
the old plane kindly offered to put the four of them up for the
night.

Right now there
was another quite serious problem concerning Madeline’s dignity.
The male host, Zol, Grayling and Adam all being men didn’t class it
as being a problem but the nice and considerate host’s wife took
Madeline under her wing and escorted her into her bedroom. The
problem concerned the state of her short scanty pink dress. Scanty
was now an inappropriate description, revealing was now more apt.
The problem with any lacy material is the inability to withstand
rough treatment. The struggle in the doorway of the plane had
plucked, tugged, torn and deformed the delicate dress into an
entirely new off the shoulder, off the… just about everything,
look. If any fashion gurus happened to be about, the new design
would have been on the shop shelves in a week but this was a place
that fashion gurus didn’t know existed.

After five
minutes Madeline emerged wearing a multi coloured chunky home knit
jumper, so oversized that it came down to her thighs. A pair of
thick black tights completed the outfit. Undeniably, she looked
cute, cuddly and gorgeous. Tights were something she had never
considered wearing before because of covering her gorgeous legs but
psychologically, she felt warm and cosy in them.

The primitive
conditions and basic food certainly didn’t seem to bother one of
the richest people in the world.

‘Amazing what
you can come up with food just from tins and bottles,’ said Zol
insensitively.

Madeline didn’t
eat of course, but so as not to offend the hosts, she consumed a
modest amount of goulash and red wine. Adam got drunk and Grayling
rudely nodded off. The language barrier was virtually
insurmountable so conversation almost immediately fizzled out and
was taken over by a little Siberian entertainment. This amounted to
an accordion played by Mr Host and an accompanying wailing voice
from Mrs Host. They called the accordion a bayan and what she sang,
a healing song to influence the weather. All very traditional but
after several songs, they insisted mainly by gestures, that their
guests reciprocated in providing entertainment.

Zol revelled in
the opportunity and surprised everyone by skilfully performing
several card tricks followed by a few simple magic tricks. Adam was
almost drunk so he insisted in singing a few of George Michael
songs – awfully. Grayling was by now snoring heavily so it was now
Madeline’s turn.

‘Surely I don’t
have to sing for my supper?’ she complained quietly.

‘Come on, sing
something,’ insisted Adam.

‘I can’t sing
to save my life.’

‘Well dance or
something – it’s expected here, they don’t have television,’ urged
Zol.

‘I only have
one talent, if you don’t count my weaponry and I don’t think
they’re ready for that!’ she said in a loud whisper.

‘Just do it or
they may throw us out,’ said Adam.

‘Okay, you all
asked for it… Me - go - get - changed,’ she said and gestured to
her hosts.

They smiled and
nodded – you won’t be smiling in a few minutes, she thought. The
nearest thing Madeline had to a leotard was her puce thermal suit.
She quickly changed in the cold dark hall and returned to the
lounge tightly dressed in puce. They wanted entertainment - they
were going to get it. Inches in front of all of them she put on an
acrobatic, contortion show they would never forget. Her bends and
twists went on for ten minutes or so - not a sound was heard from
the room except for the seams of her thermal suit tearing as she
bent into the most unnatural of positions. Adam, at one stage in
the performance, red faced, had to untangle her limbs. Finally the
performance came to an end; she bowed and left the room. The lounge
was silent, three males were all speechless and the lady host was
in a state of shock – she certainly wouldn’t be able to wail for a
while. All said and done, it was a nice end to the evening. The
hosts had well and truly been entertained as was the tradition in
these parts.

The next
morning was even colder, bleaker, cloudier and windier. However,
Madeline was an android and didn’t feel the cold especially in her
new colourful cosy jumper and thick black tights. She decided to
have a stroll around before breakfast – well actually no, she had
breakfast whilst she was strolling around. It was an unnatural
sight – a beautiful woman with the smoothest of skin and long
blonde hair flowing down her back over her colourful cuddly jumper.
Her long black covered legs with white leather boots on the ends
looked like a couple of magicians wands from a distance. There was
no need to wear the customary animal skin coat or furry hood, she
didn’t need such protection despite the Siberian chill. It was
inevitable that there would be shameful looks from the locals but
she ignored the stares and had a pleasant, gentle amble about the
place. What struck her was the complete absence of children; none
out playing ball games or riding bikes. Apart from the howling wind
and scavenging gulls, it was void of all juvenile chatter, hushed
of all screams and playful sounds. She thought about it, she hadn’t
seen a single child in this world - very odd.

Of all the
places in the world, this was certainly a place on its own. Never
before had she come across a location so isolated and so remote
that it could be situated on one of Saturn’s Moons. That’s what she
liked about the place, her ever growing fame had its downsides but
here, they had never heard of her. In their eyes, she was just a
hussy, a half dressed floozy. They didn’t know that she’d saved the
world several times at great personal sacrifice. They certainly
didn’t know she was an android, packed with weapons and powered by
a very advanced fuel cell system. They also had no idea that they
were just figments of Madeline’s dream.

Given half a
chance she would jump at being a floozy rather than what she really
was.

Chapter 46:
Flying blind

The plane
struggled to fire up. Eventually the two turbo props buzzed
unevenly making several parts of the fuselage visibly shake. The
range of a well maintained Turbo prop Douglas DC03 should be around
two thousand miles but this particular Dakota didn’t look as though
it had seen a man with an oily rag for years. Zol wisely planned
hops of round about fifteen hundred miles at a time. This was his
plan: The first hop to a place called Marzypan, then on to Ulika
Butter and finally Lukla, Kathmandu. All, except for the last hop,
would be approximately seven hour flights. What could possibly go
wrong?

It was a big
come down, like downgrading from a Range Rover vogue to an old
series one Landrover. On the Learjet, you could whisper, sink in
soft leather seats and balance cups on saucers - if you really
preferred to drink tea instead of champagne. In this old flying
bird, the seats were a kind of hard plastic, in which you had to be
tightly strapped in or you’d be shaken out. You had to shout to
communicate and if you were unfortunate enough to be human and feel
the cold, a thick coat was essential. Madeline gave Adam a kiss and
then switched off her senses, retreated inwardly and once again
watched something on her entertainment system. It took all of Zol’s
and Grayling’s skills to keep the plane in the air, so Adam was all
alone. He tried to nod off, meditate, drift off to his special
place, read a book and listen to music tracks on his smart phone
but failed on all accounts. All he could do was look out of the
filthy windows and shiver. Unlike the flights he was used to where
the ground below was so far away, absolutely nothing was
recognisable, here he could almost see the whites of people’s eyes
– if there were any people to be seen. The plane skimmed the bland
grey mountain tops and cast its shadow over the barren valleys.
Occasionally small settlements appeared below – people always ran
out of their small tents, apparently called yarangas, and waved.
Adam was amazed that people still wanted to live like this in the
twenty first century. Such a primitive, lonely existence, but they
looked happy enough - far happier than most people walking down
Oxford street – even when the sales are on. So many questions:
where did they get their food from, their medicines, their clothes?
Did they read? If so, where did they get books from? No mains
services, no toilet paper! And then he realised - he’d got used to
the noise, the discomfort and the cold.

Slowly but
surely, the greyness of the mountains transformed into the greenery
of trees and grass. Finally there was normality, proper roads,
cars, trucks, supermarkets and blocks of flats. There were clear
signs that it was no longer freezing and that there may even be a
McDonalds or a KFC somewhere below.

Marzypan
airport runway was rapidly approaching.

All in all, it
was a good landing, only two panels fell off and one tyre burst.
The plan was just to refuel and then take off but obviously a
little bit of maintenance was required.

Now let’s be
clear straight away, this was no Gatwick. The control tower
building looked condemned but obviously it wasn’t. The ground
staff… there weren’t any and the departure or arrival lounge was
basically a burger van and a couple of wooden garden seats. The
town was over five miles away so Adam had no choice but to have the
Russian equivalent of a cheese burger and Madeline had a suck on
her food pipe. The entire airport apparently had one single
aircraft mechanic. Zol and his butler knew enough to change the
wheel so they let the mechanic check, as best as he could, over the
rest of the plane.

‘I suppose I
ought to be making the most of these final hours with you,’ said
Adam.

‘This isn’t the
end, you’ll be there when I wake up,’ said Madeline
reassuringly.

‘I’ve told you,
that’s a different Adam!’ Adam quietly snapped.’

Madeline
couldn’t argue with his logic. She so wanted to go to bed with him
now because she had a strong suspicion that he was right. But there
were no rooms about just grass and a few bushes - that would have
to do. She took his hand and dragged him off the runway. Zol and
Grayling glanced across at them up. They completely approved
although naturally they were deeply envious.

It was a sort
of going away present.

If she failed
and couldn’t leave this world at least she had tried her best. Adam
knew she had to try. He was just a figment, his world was just a
figment, the thistles and wet grass on his bare back was a figment
and Madeline’s warm soft skin on his was also a figment.

Within two
hours they were back on the plane, next stop Ulika Batter. Zol
hadn’t taken any rest, neither had Grayling. The sun was setting,
soon it would be nightfall. Flying at low altitudes over mountain
ranges in the dark was never easy in the best of flying machines
and this was perhaps the worst of flying machines. Within an hour
it was pitch dark. The moon was hiding and the terrain beneath them
was typically barren and void of any street lights or vantage
points - they would have to fly by instruments. The ‘ground
proximity warning system’ (GPWS) and the altimeter were there eyes.
The easiest way to fly at night would have been to fly very high,
thereby avoiding hitting anything but this plane wasn’t pressurised
which meant it had to fly as low as possible to prevent, amongst
other things, Adam getting a headache again. As low as possible
actually meant quite high, owing to the height of the mountain
ranges they were flying over. Zol’s and Grayling’s flying skills
were pushed to the limit, eyes glued to the instruments, mile upon
mile presumably skimming the tops of the mountains. They could see
absolutely nothing out of the cockpit windows but the altimeter was
fast on a reasonably comfortable 6000 metres and the GPWS was
silent. All but Madeline were already suffering from mild oxygen
depravation and the cold. For over an hour they flew without
incident and then suddenly a scraping noise came from under the
plane. Instinctively, Zol pulled back the stick; the engines roared
louder and the plane vibrated even more. He level out at 6200
meters and turned on the feeble plane lights – they didn’t work. He
examined the GPWS, it was definitely on but the fault light was
dimly glowing.