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…Metallic blue piping ran at strangely oblique angles, stretching deep into the ever darkening glass cliff-face, sparkling in the sunlight when at odd times it emerged like some long forgotten swimmer up for air, jutting rudely into the open spaces a thousand feet above the softly shimmering, golden sands below.

Away in the distance men clothed in white mingled with the green of the hills as they ran and dived, swung and caught, oblivious to all who watched them perform their curious ritual.

Smiling to himself, Earl Grae gazed out across a deliciously calm, strawberry red sea.

Some sound over his shoulder… three of the power-station’s security guards, intent upon destruction, emerged from the cliff-face and headed out towards him. He turned and casually stepped from the outcrop of reinforced steel that had been his viewpoint.

Free from its countless, tiresome folds for a moment, his voluminous black cloak billowed forth as he plummeted to earth, only to metamorphose into wings the span of an Albatross’, and caught upon the up-draught, Earl Grae soared gracefully skyward away from all danger, however imaginary.

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