‘Now Elvis, get  a grip, they’ll be okay, believe me,’ said George in an attempt to calm her companion down before a fuse went off.  ‘From what we’ve seen from your very own creation she is well capable of fending for herself, after all she’s defended us so far and young Eric will be fine as long as he stays with her.’

‘You’re absolutely right, as usual, she can fend for herself, it’s we who have difficulty in that department. She’ll be okay and I’m sure she’ll turn up somewhere,  sometime. Just wish it  were now.’ Elvis  settled himself down in his seat.

‘Right you are,’ said Mo, ‘introductions done, we'd better get to my Bubble before nightfall.’ With that they travelled on in complete silence, save for Dog working hard at destroying his ball, he was never happier than when tearing stuff to pieces, or anyone or thing that got in the way. Elvis was deep in thought, so too George as she mused over the strange events that led them to this point. After half an hour they came to a stop, standing in  front of them, towering way above them was one enormous  sheet of glass, or so it looked like. It wasn’t until they were actually on the other side of this glass barrier that they learned it was in fact a gigantic glass dome which was, according to Mo Kwerk, the size of a large city.     

Capt. Mo led his guests to a lounge tastefully furnished with finest leather chesterfields and relic White Line Deck Chairs and had them sit and relax while he sorted out some refreshments. They looked around in awe at the sumptuousness of the place, not failing to notice the huge glass wall to their left which showed a beautiful panoramic view of the outside watery world they had just left. Upon Mo’s return he gave Elvis and George a glass of something and  Dog a bowl of something else. Dog soon polished off his bowl and looked up with that expectant look dogs are good at. This was a good indication that what Mo had given them was okay and so they downed theirs at which point Mo promptly refilled their glasses and Dog’s bowl. For the moment everyone was happy, in fact strangely elated. It was some time before they woke up, each complaining of feeling a little woozy but not unpleasantly. 

‘Ah!, you’re awake. Good, feeling refreshed I hope.’ Capt. Mo was busying himself clearing away the glasses and bowl. ‘Really can’t keep the staff these days’, he remarked in a casual manner.

Elvis was not a happy bunny, he’d been had again and  was getting a tad cheesed off with it. ‘Okay, mister Mo, if that is your real name, just what’s your game, you just drugged us back there, something I don’t exactly appreciate?’ He was  beginning to get up from  his seat.

‘Now, now, my friend, please don’t distress yourself needlessly,  I can assure you that you are in no danger here.. I only wanted  to make sure you got some rest after your recent ordeal. We need clear heads before we get down to the details of your  predicament and what to do about it.’ 

‘Take it easy, Elvis, hear him out’ George’s calming tones did the trick and all were comfortably seated and Elvis was only mildly seething.

‘Pardon me but I have to ask, what brings you to this  neck of the woods, so far away from just about anywhere?’ Mo was not surprisingly  curious.

Elvis, sufficiently calmed down now, began to relate to Mo their journey thus far, thinking to himself as he  spoke how far-fetched and ridiculous it all sounded. Even  he found it all difficult to accept. In fact his mind was in a state of flux  at this point, not clear  about anything.

After hearing all that Elvis had to say Mo sat back, formed a church spire with his hands, fingers resting on lips and looked to be deep in thought, no one uttered a word for a full five minutes before Capt. Mo broke the silence.

‘You too?’ He said, ‘How extraordinary. It would appear that we have something in common other than a name, which is extraordinary enough on its own but also we share a commonality in terms of events, disappearing people, strange occurrences hard to explain. Also I have felt a definite shift in certain temporal changes in time. Things seemed to go backward at times?’ Elvis and George looked at each other and then back to Mo before Elvis said, 

‘It’s here, the damn thing is here. We have got to locate it and destroy it once and for all before any more time and space and dimensions are disrupted beyond recovery.’

‘What damn thing are you referring to my friend?’ Elvis then as briefly as he cold filled Mo in on what had transpired with regard to The Ringpull of Fordor and its ability to alter time and space  completely disrupting the equilibrium of the universe and how it was that they found themselves here, in their pursuit of this evil thing and they appear to have got quite close this time. Mo listened intently, showing no signs of shock, only mild surprise. When Elvis had finished Mo sat back in his chair and did that church spire  thing again with his fingers and pressed his fingers to his mouth. He was in his thinking mode, as they came to recognise. It was George who broke the spell, her inquisitiveness getting the better of her.

‘But tell me, good Capt. what brought you to this place, I mean it’s hardly the regular location for someone like yourself, a Sea Captain?’

Mo dropped his hands to his lap, looked first at George then at Elvis, Dog was settled down by Mo’s chair, seemingly asleep. This did surprise both Elvis and George as Dog had shown how particular he was  as far as friend or foe were concerned. Then, perhaps more remarkably was the next movement as Mo lowered his hand and stroked Dog’s head and finished by gently tickling behind his ears. Dog emitted a quiet “Woof” and settled down to his comfortable position at Mo’s feet.

‘It would appear that you have made a friend there,’  remarked Elvis.

‘Just so,’ was Mo’s only comment, before he sat back in his chair and began to relate to them what brought him to this situation. ‘First I need to tell you about the Legend of ‘The Lost City of Helig.’ His listeners settled down with a glass each of the Capt.’s finest as he began his narrative.

‘A very long time ago, just when exactly we need not concern ourselves, there was a land, an island actually which was attached to the mainland by a thin strip of causeway, access being controlled by the tidal activities along that coast. This land was believed to be situated somewhere between Ramsey Island and Beardsley Island, now Cardigan Bay and its story has laid the foundations for many accounts of  mysteriously vanishing lands and cities. Some you will no doubt be familiar with like Atlantis?’ Elvis and George exchanged looks and then fixed their focus back on their host.

‘This land had a ruler whose name was Glannog and the land and city were called Helig. Glannog had  two sons, one, the legitimate heir called Elvin ap Glannog and the other, commonly and perhaps a little unfairly even if true, referred to as The Bastard, Sigmund. Both these sons were given important jobs befitting their talents and abilities. Elvin was head of his father’s great army as well as head of the diplomatic corps of their day. Sigmund, however, was given the arduous task of what was called for a time the ‘Canute Department of Agriculture and Mussel Fisheries.’ Arduous because the tides were treacherous around that coast and very unpredictable. Sigmund had to make sure there was always a good supply of sand bags, rocks and various other items that could be used to stem the tide, as it were. It has been said that there was some degree of bad blood between the brothers, mainly Sigmund’s jealousy of Elvin but all was generally stable on the home front, as long as they didn’t meet’

At the sound of these names Dog lifted his head, sniffed the air, relieved himself of some troublesome wind and returned to his previous comfy position.

‘As I have already indicated, the seas were pretty rough round there and the sea defences were of paramount importance and Sigmund, on the whole, did a sterling job keeping them intact, unfortunately he had a bit of a weakness, though not so embarrassing as inconvenient. He was, how can I say, overly fond of the juice? Well, one fateful night in mid-summer, when all was seemingly calm and secure though Sigmund was not calm but excited, he was well and truly stoned, legend has it, deeply engrossed in his favourite pastime of Beetle Wrangling. He had passed out at the moment the sea bed decided to liven things up a tad and in seconds a tsunami was headed straight for Helig. As you both are aware tsunamis are tricky little buggers to handle and before one could say whatever one would wish to waste their breath on saying the entire island with the city of Helig vanished beneath the waves, never to be seen again. Apparently there were no survivors.  All were drowned but no beetle was harmed in this event, they all managed to swim to safety in the land now called Liverpool.’ Mo broke off his narrative at this point to refill his guest’s glasses before resuming his tale.

‘So was born the legend of the Lost City of Helig, known by other names as you well know, but that doesn’t matter. No, what does matter is that I discovered that I was related, believe it or not, by some strange quirk of fate, to that same Sigmund of the legend. This helps to explain the love for that fine tradition of investigating the effects of certain liquids on the human mind, commonly known by the vulgar name of booze. This tradition has been passed down through generations of Kwerks, some apparently a little more ‘Siggy’ than others.”

His guests looked at each other and as one mouthed silently ‘Eric.’

Mo continued, “I learned of this lost land while studying at Trinity for my Master’s. On leaving Trinity I spent some time serving in the French Foreign Legion Marine Corps, stationed and patrolling Africa, fighting the Tuareg in the Tuareg 100’s and 1000’s War. When I left the Legion Marine I purchased a second hand amphibious vehicle from them known as a ‘DUKW’, apparently a version of these was used in the Second World War to great effect. Using my correspondence course Science Degree I made certain modifications more suited to my purpose. That purpose was to explore and search for the Lost City of Helig, the city of my ancestors. Oh forgive me my friends,” he interrupted himself,  ‘I'm not boring you are I?’

His guests exchanged glances once more and in unison indicated for Mo to continue, as they held out their empty glasses to be refilled. They were warming to this Captain of the strange vehicle called the ‘DUKW’, Elvis couldn’t help but feel that there was something comfortably familiar here. He settled back in his seat and continued to listen, his interest whetted even more than before.

‘It was while I was mussel rustling in Cardigan Bay,' continued Mo, ‘that I came across remains of an ancient city and it wasn't long after that I found the rest of it and not in bad condition, considering.’ Mo was back in full swing. ‘Well, I’d made a few bob in the summer clearing  landmines in the bay so I was able to build up what you see before you now, not overnight, you understand, it took a couple of heavy weekends I can tell you but it got done. I eventually gathered a few folk together, to ‘people’ the place, you know, community and all that, but then some of the people started to disappear. This was about the time of the meteorite storm we experienced. People had gone topside to witness the event and never returned. I went to look for them of course but found nothing except that extraordinary perfectly white beach bordered by a placid blue sea,  beneath a perfectly blue sky. I noted that the sea didn’t lap at the water’s edge  because the water wasn’t moving, which I thought was most odd.’ He then stood up and excused himself saying that as they must be hungry by now he’d fetch them some food..

 When he’d gone Elvis and George looked at each other and then at Dog, only Dog wasn’t there. He’d gone with Mo to the kitchen, he was fully focused, was that Dog. 

‘What do you make of it all, Elvis?’

‘Apart from being quite barmy it has a familiar  pattern to it and all the hallmarks of our adversary of the Ringpull.’

Dog trotted back into the room licking his mouth obviously satisfied with what he had just devoured, he seemed unnervingly at ease with his new surroundings, this was not like Dog at all. Was this something to be alarmed about, thought Elvis. George however seems unconcerned. Dog knew his own mind, he knew who to trust, he was never wrong. Maybe all was fine. Mo was back in the room within minutes of Dog, this time, pushing a serving trolley upon which were plates of food, delicacies, as Mo described them. For the next few minutes the group were occupied with these delicacies placed before them. Elvis had forgotten when he had last eaten and was devouring the food with relish.

‘You appear to be enjoying the sea slug patties, my friend,’ said Mo to Elvis, who stopped chewing for a moment as this remark sunk in. He was eating sea slugs, not burgers as he had thought. What other surprises awaited him he wondered. Mo didn’t give him a chance to reflect too much upon this last bit of information and continued with his story.

‘Anyway, It was while I was on the mainland looking for any signs of the missing people that I had a couple of run-ins with the guys you met yourselves, only you saw wolves. For me it was heavily armed Red Squirrels. It seems these characters are shape shifters and appear to you as the thing you most fear or hate. For me it was Red Squirrels, I’d always hated these whingeing little bastards, always on about the Greys nicking their nuts or something. Anyway, the shapeshifters knew my phobia, you are obviously not overly keen on Wolves.’

‘Yes, grandma was frightened by one once, dressed as a milkman.’

George turned to Elvis and with eyebrows raised said, ‘Why Elvis, you never said.’’

‘It’s not something I like to talk about, let’s move on shall we? Now, Mo, it would appear that we do indeed have a common enemy and perhaps the best thing to do is to combine our resources and fight together’ This would bury grandma’s milkman wolf for now, he hoped.

‘Splendid idea my friend but we need a plan.’ All agreed that this would be a good idea and discussions ensued, Dog sat watching the huddle, sniffed, relieved the inner pressure again and went back to some serious dozing. He never actually slept, he was always on red alert, which turned out to be a very good thing for there came a rumbling felt more than heard, the structure they were in shook violently and the outer walls were battered by a massive tidal disturbance. Fortunately there was no breach in the wall and they were safe, for now.

Dog had either sensed something was wrong or heard something and had acted instantly, one loud bark, quick grabbing of George’s sleeve and he was pulling her to safety, just before the tidal wave hit, the others followed instinctively. Elvis had got used to Dog by now, with his lightning fast reactions to danger.

‘That was no natural event,’ remarked Mo, thoughtfully. ‘I think we have been challenged, the gauntlet has been cast down and we need to respond, what say you guys?’

‘WROOFF’

‘I think Dog speaks for all of us,’ remarked George.

‘Oh yes, couldn't agree more,’ said Elvis, ‘I’ve had just about enough of this whoever it is who is messing with us.’

‘Good,’ said Mo, ‘then it’s topside everyone and to the mainland, for that’s where our answers will be found.’ Elvis liked this Mo character, he was a man after his own heart, decisive, fearless, better stop there, he thought, don’t go too far.