It was with a degree of trepidation that they walked along the gangway and into the giant pleisiosaurs bottom. The ‘Nessie’ was a submarine of course: one of their cunningly disguised maintenance vehicles: this one usually serving in the lakes around Jurassic World.
The captain was a sharply dressed Italian in an immaculate white uniform, his perfect teeth gleaming like marble from between long black sideburns. Moe immediately hated him, feeling like some ignorant and misbegotten lump of ignorance in comparison (which he was, of course).
Captain Juliano was extremely gracious to Clarissa and even Anwyn; Moe gritted his teeth. Juliano explained that the journey would not take long, even in these ice bound waters. They would be dropped off a few miles from Christmastown at around four, which in these latitudes would be near dark. He also handed the Strontium Dogs each a small black box, around the size of a packet of cigarettes.
“If you carry this it will send out a signature to the surrounding droids; the various transponder codes will register you as a robot in their eyes, and they probably won’t enquire any further unless you draw attention to yourselves.”
“But won’t they see we look out of place?” asked Anwyn.
“They are robots, not people” grinned Juliano with a dashing smile. “If you register as a robot that will be it. A robot won’t look at you and think ‘He has brown hair’. A robot will scan for the appropriate codes on initial contact. If you show them, it will ignore you.”
“Beware that the more sophisticated robots have more advanced protocols however” said Juliano. “This wouldn’t fool ‘Call me Cal’ for a moment. It should fool the rank and file though.”
Captain Juliano also handed over two handheld devices resembling mini rocket launchers.
“These are flare guns” he explained. “If you get stuck set these off and make for the drop off point. We will keep an eye out and move in for a pickup. Your comms will not work, of course.”
After a four hour trip the pleisiosaur surfaced, and the Agents found themselves in a small rubber dinghy, fifty yards offshore from a forested and snowbound shoreline. It was starting to snow. Clarissa noted that Moe was playing with a large hooped stocking he seemed to have acquired.