You, Me, We Are All Mistakes

11. A TECHNOLOGY MAFIA

"But where in Yorkshire?" furthered Tina.

"Underneath it."

"Oh."

"Beneath the Dark Peak of the Pennines to be precise. Follow me."

"No!" blasted Tina emphatically.

Having taken two assumptive paces forward, McGuigan stopped instantly

"I'm not going anywhere," she continued. "You've kidnapped us, tied us up, dumped us in a truck and now expect us to just do what you say? Where do you get off just treating people that way and ordering them about? Are you lot gangsters or perverts?"

The air man studied them both quietly. In the silence they became aware of a soft whirring emerging from the white tiled corridor behind.

Nelson and Tina turned. Simultaneously their eyes widened in bewilderment.

Past the huge truck, hooded figures emerged in the form of three elderly men draped in sumptuous red robes, each gliding atop a peculiar two-wheeled device marked by a long stem projecting from its baseplate. Their eyes were barely visible beneath shadows cast by the head coverings. Each vermillion robe exhibited a different braid pattern in gold across the torso.

Floating improbably on just these two wheels, the vehicles' stem finished with a rounded handlebar, lightly gripped by each rider. The figures came to a stop.

Ten beats. No one spoke.

Finally, the three elderly arrivals simultaneously leaned forward slightly on their handlebars and mutely slid past Nelson, Tina and McGuigan. Even from the rear their two-wheeled devices displayed no further visible means of balance, appearing to defy any laws of gravity or physics.

"We're neither gangsters nor perverts ma'am," said the American. "If you'll politely follow me, we will explain."

"Now that... is a mode of transport I like the look of," perked up Nelson. "Do you get a lot of these?"

"Yessir," snapped McGuigan as a verbal salute. He was desperate to walk on yet remained rooted to this spot. "It's called a Segway."

"A... a Segg Weigh... or, a segue? You mean, like a transition?"

"Yessir, I guess. It's a great implementation of gyroscopics."

"Hmm..." said Nelson, not sure he was understanding, "...and what about the men in robes riding these Segg Weighs?"

"They lead The Directorate. Down here we call them the Knowalls."

"The Noels?" checked Nelson.

"Yessir. Close enough"

"Mr. and Mrs. Noel and their son Edmond?"

"No. It was a moniker they adopted centuries ago. Some of us prefer to think of them as a tech mafia." A smirk appeared on McGuigan's face.

"A tech mafia?" exclaimed Nelson.

"Yes, a technology mafia, but without all the pasta. Some of us use that phrase. It's not their favourite, but for me it's accurate. They prefer Knowall. I guess its softer. It refers to all knowledge of technology and this and that. But they will explain everything to you themselves."

"Aha, the Know-Alls," perceived Nelson, "...knowledge. Very self-serving. And what is this... Directorate that they lead?"