[DEJA VU] EXCLUSIVE SOCIETY FEATURE! THE MEN OF FARADAY STREET!
THE ALBION STAR
THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN WHO KNOWS WHAT TOMORROW HOLDS, BUT CANNOT BE PERSUADED TO HOLD HIS TONGUE ABOUT IT
EXCLUSIVE SOCIETY FEATURE | THE MEN OF FARADAY STREET
By Miss Beatrice Vale, Special Correspondent
Mr Sebastian Ashford, Seer and head of the Star Seeker Detective Agency, has lately been observed entering his establishment with a loaf of bread under one arm and an expression suggesting that the future has once again disappointed him.
The Star secured an interview with the young gentleman on the understanding that questions concerning his colleagues, his prophetic abilities, and the Emerald Gentleman would be answered with candour, although we regret to report that his familiar appears to have had other ideas.
At twenty-two, Mr Ashford has already encountered the sort of supernatural inconveniences that would cause a lesser man to retire to the countryside and cultivate turnips.
He has declined to do so.
Instead, he resides at No. 7 Faraday Street, London, where he leads four gifted detectives, consults dreams that may or may not come true, and maintains an alarmingly close relationship with a Welsh corgi-like creature who possesses the conversational instincts of a barrister.
The Star sent Miss Beatrice Vale to investigate.
What follows is a transcript of that unfortunate afternoon.
PART I: THE MAN, THE MYTH, AND THE ALARMINGLY GOOD BAKING
THE ALBION STAR: Mr Ashford, thank you for agreeing to speak with us. Before we begin, I must ask whether the rumours concerning your morning habits are exaggerated.
SEBASTIAN ASHFORD: That depends entirely on the rumours.
THE ALBION STAR: That you have been known to consider breakfast a reasonable excuse for postponing the entire day.
SEBASTIAN: Ah. Those rumours.
Mr Ashford folds his hands upon the table. He is a tall young man with dark hair, brown eyes, and the sort of gentle countenance that inspires confidence until one realises he has been quietly observing one's behaviour for the past twenty minutes.
At the mention of breakfast, his expression becomes marginally more defensive.
SEBASTIAN: I prefer to think of it as a measured approach to productivity. One ought not to rush into a day without first establishing whether the day deserves one's participation.
THE ALBION STAR: A philosophy which, we understand, has earned you the affectionate nickname "Sloth."
SEBASTIAN: Among friends, yes.
THE ALBION STAR: And do you object?
SEBASTIAN: Not particularly. Though I have noticed that the people who call me Sloth are often the same people who wake me to ask where I have put things.
THE ALBION STAR: And have you put them somewhere?
SEBASTIAN: Usually.
THE ALBION STAR: Somewhere identifiable?
SEBASTIAN: That is a separate question.
The Star notes that Mr Ashford appears to find this perfectly reasonable.
THE ALBION STAR: Let us discuss your occupation. You are a Seer. You dream of possible futures, occasionally glimpse events before they occur, and record these experiences in a diary beneath your pillow. Is that correct?
SEBASTIAN: Broadly speaking.
THE ALBION STAR: Can you predict the winning horse at Ascot?
SEBASTIAN: No.
THE ALBION STAR: The outcome of a parliamentary election?
SEBASTIAN: Not reliably.
THE ALBION STAR: Whether a gentleman's marriage will survive the winter?
SEBASTIAN: I would advise against wagering on it.
THE ALBION STAR: Whether the cook has prepared sponge cake?
SEBASTIAN: I can usually establish that without supernatural assistance.
THE ALBION STAR: Then what, precisely, is the advantage of being a Seer?
SEBASTIAN: One develops an appreciation for uncertainty.
THE ALBION STAR: That sounds suspiciously like a disadvantage.
SEBASTIAN: It is a disadvantage with excellent stationery.
He gestures towards his dream diary, a carefully maintained volume containing dated entries and observations. Mr Ashford insists that his visions are possibilities rather than certainties.
THE ALBION STAR: So the future is not fixed?
SEBASTIAN: No. A vision may show me something that could happen. It does not necessarily tell me why it happens, what precedes it, or whether our actions will change the outcome.
THE ALBION STAR: And you cannot simply dream your way through an investigation?
SEBASTIAN: If I could, I should have solved every mystery in London by now and spent the afternoon reading.
THE ALBION STAR: Reading?
SEBASTIAN: It is one of my ambitions.
THE ALBION STAR: To read?
SEBASTIAN: Without someone entering the room to inform me that a painting has moved, a person has disappeared, or Wolpertinger has eaten something inadvisable.
At this point, a small cream-and-brown dog beneath the window raises his head.
WOLPERTINGER: It was perfectly advisable.
THE ALBION STAR: You ate the evidence?
WOLPERTINGER: I ate a biscuit.
SEBASTIAN: The biscuit was on the evidence table.
WOLPERTINGER: Then the evidence was poorly guarded.
Mr Ashford closes his eyes briefly.
SEBASTIAN: You see what I mean.
PART II: FOUR COLLEAGUES WALK INTO A DETECTIVE AGENCY
The Star understands that the Star Seeker Detective Agency employs four additional detectives, each possessing a distinct supernatural ability and a personality which, when combined, has apparently prevented Mr Ashford from enjoying a peaceful afternoon since the agency's establishment.
We asked him to describe his colleagues in his own words.
THE ALBION STAR: Let us begin with Mr Adrian Blackwood, the wizard with the extraordinary left eye and a formidable reputation for deduction. What is he like to work with?
SEBASTIAN: Adrian is exceptionally intelligent, analytical, and very good at identifying contradictions. He is the sort of person who can examine a room for thirty seconds and discover that three things are wrong with it.
THE ALBION STAR: And you?
SEBASTIAN: I discover the fourth thing after he has told me the other three.
THE ALBION STAR: Does this ever cause friction?
SEBASTIAN: Occasionally. Adrian enjoys being right.
THE ALBION STAR: And you do not?
SEBASTIAN: I enjoy it enormously. I simply try not to make it everyone's problem.
THE ALBION STAR: How admirable.
SEBASTIAN: You have not met Adrian.
He considers this for a moment.
SEBASTIAN: Though, to be fair, he is often right for excellent reasons. I would rather have a colleague who challenges my conclusions than one who agrees with me merely because I am in charge.
THE ALBION STAR: A democratic approach to leadership.
SEBASTIAN: It is either that or five men making independent decisions in the same house. We have enough difficulties already.
THE ALBION STAR: Moving on to Lord Alistair Everard, Lord Thornfield. A healer who can speak to plants and brew potions. Does the agency benefit from having an aristocrat among its ranks?
SEBASTIAN: We benefit considerably from having a healer. His title is a useful addition when we are obliged to attend certain social functions, though it has yet to persuade anyone to behave sensibly.
THE ALBION STAR: Can he speak to plants?
SEBASTIAN: Yes.
THE ALBION STAR: What do they say?
SEBASTIAN: I imagine that depends on the plant.
THE ALBION STAR: Have you ever asked him to consult a houseplant about a case?
SEBASTIAN: Not yet.
THE ALBION STAR: Why not?
SEBASTIAN: Because I have learned not to introduce additional witnesses unless I am prepared to take their testimony seriously.
THE ALBION STAR: And the possibility that a fern might know something useful?
SEBASTIAN: I would hear the fern out.
Mr Ashford appears entirely sincere.
THE ALBION STAR: Lord Thornfield's healing abilities can exact a considerable personal cost. Does this concern you?
SEBASTIAN: Of course. His abilities are remarkable, but they do not make him expendable. I would rather he tell us when he has reached his limit than sacrifice himself and expect the rest of us to call it noble.
THE ALBION STAR: You seem particularly protective of your colleagues.
SEBASTIAN: They are my friends.
THE ALBION STAR: That is not a very complicated answer.
SEBASTIAN: I have found that the simple answers are often the most inconvenient ones.
The interviewer makes a note.
THE ALBION STAR: Now, His Grace, Henry Wyndham, Duke of Windermere. An aristocrat, a swordsman, and the agency's principal warrior. What happens when you disagree?
SEBASTIAN: We discuss it.
THE ALBION STAR: And if discussion fails?
SEBASTIAN: We continue discussing it until we find a solution.
THE ALBION STAR: And if the solution requires a sword?
SEBASTIAN: I leave that to Henry.
THE ALBION STAR: Sensible.
SEBASTIAN: I am reasonably skilled with a bow, but I have no intention of competing with a man who has made swordsmanship his speciality. It would be an unnecessary waste of both our afternoons.
THE ALBION STAR: Does his ducal title carry much weight within the agency?
SEBASTIAN: Only when someone needs to reach a high shelf.
THE ALBION STAR: Surely you can reach the high shelves yourself. You are six feet two.
SEBASTIAN: Precisely. Henry is useful for the very highest shelves.
The Star suspects that Mr Ashford is being deliberately unhelpful.
We shall investigate.
THE ALBION STAR: Finally, Mr Elias Sinclair, Summoner. He can summon creatures and wings for flight, and his bird familiar, Ariel, carries messages. Does having a Summoner in the household make life easier?
SEBASTIAN: Certainly. Elias is resourceful, and his abilities give us options that would otherwise be unavailable.
THE ALBION STAR: Such as flying over a locked gate?
SEBASTIAN: Among other things.
THE ALBION STAR: Sending Ariel to deliver a message?
SEBASTIAN: Yes.
THE ALBION STAR: Sending Ariel to deliver an unpleasant message?
SEBASTIAN: I have no objection to the bird. I object to the possibility that the message might be written in my name.
THE ALBION STAR: Has this happened?
SEBASTIAN: Not to my knowledge.
THE ALBION STAR: As a Seer, ought you not to know?
SEBASTIAN: I can see possible futures. I cannot guarantee that my colleagues will not become creative in the present.
THE ALBION STAR: And how would you describe the agency as a whole?
For the first time, Mr Ashford pauses before answering.
SEBASTIAN: Capable. Stubborn. Frequently exhausting. Better than any of us would be alone.
THE ALBION STAR: That was almost sentimental.
SEBASTIAN: Please do not print it.
THE ALBION STAR: We shall print it in a larger typeface.
SEBASTIAN: I expected as much.
PART III: WOLPERTINGER, ESQUIRE
It is customary for this newspaper to interview individuals of consequence. We had not anticipated interviewing a dog.
We have since revised our standards.
THE ALBION STAR: Wolpertinger, may I ask you a few questions?
WOLPERTINGER: You may ask. Whether I answer is another matter.
THE ALBION STAR: An encouraging start. What is your official position at the Star Seeker Detective Agency?
WOLPERTINGER: Familiar.
THE ALBION STAR: And your unofficial position?
WOLPERTINGER: Head of biscuits.
SEBASTIAN: That position does not exist.
WOLPERTINGER: Then why have I been performing its duties?
THE ALBION STAR: Mr Ashford, is it true that Wolpertinger assists in battle?
SEBASTIAN: Yes. He is a capable hunting familiar and can be extremely useful in dangerous situations.
THE ALBION STAR: Yet you allow him to sit beneath your desk while you work.
SEBASTIAN: I also allow my colleagues to sit in chairs. I see no reason to discriminate.
WOLPERTINGER: I prefer the chair.
SEBASTIAN: You have your own bed.
WOLPERTINGER: And yet here we are.
THE ALBION STAR: An eloquent defence.
WOLPERTINGER: Thank you. I have been practising.
THE ALBION STAR: Does he ever disobey you, Mr Ashford?
SEBASTIAN: Frequently.
WOLPERTINGER: Incorrect. I exercise independent judgement.
SEBASTIAN: Yesterday, I told you to stay.
WOLPERTINGER: I stayed in a different room.
SEBASTIAN: That is not what the command means.
WOLPERTINGER: Then your command was insufficiently specific.
Mr Ashford rubs his forehead.
THE ALBION STAR: And you tolerate this?
SEBASTIAN: He is family.
Wolpertinger, who has spent the previous five minutes pretending not to listen, moves closer to Sebastian's chair.
THE ALBION STAR: That is rather touching.
SEBASTIAN: He is also spiritually dependent on me. Our relationship involves care, trust, and a great deal of negotiation.
WOLPERTINGER: Mostly biscuits.
SEBASTIAN: That is not true.
WOLPERTINGER: You are correct. Sometimes there is bread.
THE ALBION STAR: Mr Ashford, what is the most extraordinary thing Wolpertinger has done in your service?
SEBASTIAN: He has helped me through dangerous situations. He has accompanied me on investigations. He has warned me when something was wrong.
THE ALBION STAR: And the least extraordinary?
SEBASTIAN: He once spent an entire afternoon barking at his own reflection.
WOLPERTINGER: It was behaving suspiciously.
THE ALBION STAR: What did you do?
SEBASTIAN: Moved the mirror.
THE ALBION STAR: Did this resolve the matter?
SEBASTIAN: Temporarily. He found a window.
Wolpertinger lifts his chin with the dignity of a creature who has never once apologised to a piece of furniture.
THE ALBION STAR: One final question. If Mr Ashford were to dream of a future in which you were denied biscuits, would you consider this a reliable prophecy?
WOLPERTINGER: I would consider it a threat.
SEBASTIAN: And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I keep a dream diary.
PART IV: SEVEN QUESTIONS ABOUT THE FUTURE, NONE OF WHICH HE AGREES TO ANSWER PROPERLY
THE ALBION STAR: Let us return to your Seer abilities. Have you ever seen your own death?
Mr Ashford's expression becomes more thoughtful.
SEBASTIAN: I have experienced visions involving danger. I would not assume that every image of harm is a prediction of a fixed outcome.
THE ALBION STAR: Does that not frighten you?
SEBASTIAN: Of course it does. But fear is not evidence, and a vision is not a verdict. If I see something troubling, I investigate it. I do not simply surrender to it.
THE ALBION STAR: Do you believe people are capable of changing their destinies?
SEBASTIAN: I believe people make choices. Those choices matter. If I see a possible future in which someone is hurt, I have a responsibility to consider whether there is something I can do to prevent it.
THE ALBION STAR: And if you fail?
SEBASTIAN: Then I must distinguish between what I could have changed and what I could not. I do not always find that distinction easy.
For a moment, the young Seer seems considerably older than twenty-two.
Then Wolpertinger sneezes.
SEBASTIAN: Bless you.
WOLPERTINGER: Thank you.
THE ALBION STAR: You have just offered a blessing to a dog.
SEBASTIAN: A talking dog.
THE ALBION STAR: Does that distinction matter?
SEBASTIAN: Enormously. He would be insufferable otherwise.
WOLPERTINGER: I heard that.
SEBASTIAN: I know.
THE ALBION STAR: Do you ever attempt to use your abilities for personal convenience? Finding lost objects, for instance?
SEBASTIAN: I generally look for them.
THE ALBION STAR: How disappointingly ordinary.
SEBASTIAN: My visions are not a substitute for having eyes.
THE ALBION STAR: Could you predict the weather?
SEBASTIAN: Occasionally, though I have no particular talent for it.
THE ALBION STAR: Yet you dislike rain.
SEBASTIAN: I fail to see the relevance.
THE ALBION STAR: Surely a man who can glimpse the future would prefer to know when to carry an umbrella.
SEBASTIAN: Knowing that rain is possible does not mean I can determine when it will begin, how long it will last, or whether I have remembered the umbrella.
THE ALBION STAR: You forget your umbrella?
SEBASTIAN: I am human.
THE ALBION STAR: We had been given to understand that you were supernatural.
SEBASTIAN: The supernatural community has a remarkably low standard for membership.
THE ALBION STAR: One last question. If you could change one thing about your gift, what would it be?
SEBASTIAN: I would like to understand my visions more clearly. Not to control every outcome, but to recognise what matters and what I am meant to learn from what I see.
THE ALBION STAR: And if you could remove the gift entirely?
He considers the question.
SEBASTIAN: I do not know.
THE ALBION STAR: That is an unusual admission from a Seer.
SEBASTIAN: I think it is a rather ordinary admission from a person who has not yet decided what he wants.
The Star elects not to pursue this further.
We have our limits.
PART V: THE EMERALD GENTLEMAN, OR HOW TO MAKE AN ENEMY OF A NEWSPAPER
There are subjects upon which polite society prefers silence.
Arthur Rutherford is not one of them.
Known as the Emerald Gentleman and the Dragon of the End, Mr Rutherford has become a figure of considerable interest to those acquainted with the more troubling corners of London's supernatural affairs. His ambitions have been associated with the five detectives of the Star Seeker Agency, and his interest in Mr Ashford is, to put it mildly, unwelcome.
We asked the Seer for his opinion.
THE ALBION STAR: Mr Ashford, what is your assessment of the Emerald Gentleman?
SEBASTIAN: He is dangerous.
THE ALBION STAR: In what way?
SEBASTIAN: He is intelligent, ambitious, and willing to treat other people as instruments for achieving his objectives.
THE ALBION STAR: A rather unflattering assessment.
SEBASTIAN: I was not aware that we were discussing his social invitations.
THE ALBION STAR: Is it true that Mr Rutherford intends to gather the powers of the five detectives into you?
SEBASTIAN: That is part of the threat we are investigating.
THE ALBION STAR: And then consume you?
SEBASTIAN: That is the implication, yes.
THE ALBION STAR: How extraordinary.
SEBASTIAN: It is not the word I would choose.
THE ALBION STAR: What word would you choose?
SEBASTIAN: Inconvenient.
THE ALBION STAR: Inconvenient?
SEBASTIAN: I had other plans.
THE ALBION STAR: Such as?
SEBASTIAN: Reading. Baking. Solving the case. Perhaps sleeping for eight uninterrupted hours.
THE ALBION STAR: And Mr Rutherford has interfered with these plans?
SEBASTIAN: Quite inconsiderately.
THE ALBION STAR: You seem remarkably composed for a man who has been threatened with supernatural consumption.
SEBASTIAN: Panic is rarely an effective investigative method.
THE ALBION STAR: Is that why you do not fear him?
SEBASTIAN: I did not say that.
His answer is quiet, and the interviewer observes that the humour has receded from his face.
SEBASTIAN: I fear what he could do. I fear what might happen to the people I care about. But fear does not make him invincible, and it does not make his plans inevitable.
THE ALBION STAR: Your visions have shown you this outcome?
SEBASTIAN: My visions have shown me possibilities. Some are frightening. None gives me permission to stop thinking.
THE ALBION STAR: Do you believe you can defeat him?
SEBASTIAN: I believe we can.
THE ALBION STAR: You and your colleagues?
SEBASTIAN: All of us. It would be a mistake to imagine that one person must carry the entire burden.
THE ALBION STAR: Even if that person is the Seer?
SEBASTIAN: Especially if that person is the Seer.
He sits back in his chair.
SEBASTIAN: Mr Rutherford's plan depends upon a particular understanding of power. He assumes that gathering our abilities into one person will give him what he wants. I do not believe that is the same thing as understanding what makes us effective.
THE ALBION STAR: And what does make you effective?
SEBASTIAN: We work together. Adrian sees what I overlook. Henry can do things I cannot. Alistair understands matters that neither of us can resolve alone. Elias brings abilities and perspectives that change what is possible. And we listen to one another.
THE ALBION STAR: So your answer to the Dragon of the End is teamwork?
SEBASTIAN: Among other things.
THE ALBION STAR: It lacks the grandeur one expects of an epic confrontation.
SEBASTIAN: We can arrange a dramatic speech if you require one for the article.
THE ALBION STAR: We would be grateful.
SEBASTIAN: Very well. Ahem. "Arthur Rutherford shall tremble before the united might of the Star Seekers, for no darkness can withstand the light of our indomitable—"
WOLPERTINGER: He is making that up.
SEBASTIAN: I was building towards a conclusion.
WOLPERTINGER: You were building towards a nap.
SEBASTIAN: I can do both.
THE ALBION STAR: We shall omit the speech.
SEBASTIAN: A wise editorial decision.
THE ALBION STAR: One final question about Mr Rutherford. If he were seated before you now, what would you say to him?
Mr Ashford's dimples appear briefly.
SEBASTIAN: I should ask him to explain his reasoning.
THE ALBION STAR: You would interrogate him?
SEBASTIAN: I would give him an opportunity to clarify his intentions. Then I should ask why he believes other people exist to fulfil them.
THE ALBION STAR: And if he refused to answer?
SEBASTIAN: I should conclude that he has a poor understanding of conversation.
THE ALBION STAR: And if he attempted to consume you?
SEBASTIAN: I should consider the conversation concluded.
The Star finds this answer satisfactory.
PART VI: THE SERIOUS BUSINESS OF SPONGE CAKE
After discussing the end of the world, the interviewer considered it prudent to turn to a less distressing subject.
Mr Ashford's baking has attracted considerable attention among those fortunate enough to reside at No. 7 Faraday Street. We asked him whether the rumours of his sponge cake were justified.
THE ALBION STAR: We understand that you bake when stressed.
SEBASTIAN: Yes.
THE ALBION STAR: Why?
SEBASTIAN: It gives me something useful to do with my hands while I think.
THE ALBION STAR: And if you are very stressed?
SEBASTIAN: I bake more.
THE ALBION STAR: Should we be concerned about the quantity of sponge cake currently in the agency?
SEBASTIAN: That depends on whether you are planning to visit.
THE ALBION STAR: Is baking a form of escapism?
SEBASTIAN: Sometimes. It is also a way to take care of people. You can spend an afternoon worrying about something you cannot control, or you can make a loaf of bread and give someone a reason to sit down and eat.
THE ALBION STAR: A surprisingly philosophical answer for a discussion about carbohydrates.
SEBASTIAN: I find that carbohydrates invite reflection.
THE ALBION STAR: What is your greatest culinary achievement?
SEBASTIAN: My sponge cake.
THE ALBION STAR: And your greatest culinary failure?
SEBASTIAN: I once attempted a recipe that required considerably more patience than I possessed.
THE ALBION STAR: What happened?
SEBASTIAN: The cake collapsed.
THE ALBION STAR: And what did you learn?
SEBASTIAN: That the cake does not care how much effort one has invested in it.
THE ALBION STAR: A lesson you might apply to your visions.
SEBASTIAN: Perhaps. Though I would prefer not to eat my visions.
THE ALBION STAR: Do your colleagues appreciate your baking?
SEBASTIAN: They do.
THE ALBION STAR: All of them?
SEBASTIAN: Even Adrian.
THE ALBION STAR: Does he compliment you?
SEBASTIAN: He says the texture is consistent.
THE ALBION STAR: That sounds rather like praise from a man who analyses everything.
SEBASTIAN: I have learned to accept affection in whatever form it arrives.
THE ALBION STAR: And Wolpertinger?
SEBASTIAN: He is enthusiastic.
WOLPERTINGER: I have been neglected for the duration of this interview.
SEBASTIAN: You have been sitting beside a plate of biscuits.
WOLPERTINGER: Precisely. Neglected.
THE ALBION STAR: Mr Ashford, do you ever bake for yourself?
SEBASTIAN: Of course.
THE ALBION STAR: Even when nobody else is there?
SEBASTIAN: Especially then. One need not wait for an occasion to do something kind.
The Star records this statement without comment.
It is, after all, a newspaper, not a poetry journal.
PART VII: THE DEMON DIMPLES AND OTHER PUBLIC MENACES
THE ALBION STAR: We have discussed your abilities, your colleagues, and your fondness for baking. There remains one matter of considerable public interest.
SEBASTIAN: I suspect I know what it is.
THE ALBION STAR: Your dimples.
Mr Ashford looks at the interviewer.
SEBASTIAN: I beg your pardon?
THE ALBION STAR: Your friends have reportedly dubbed them the demon dimples.
SEBASTIAN: They have.
THE ALBION STAR: Do you consider the nickname fair?
SEBASTIAN: I consider it an unfortunate demonstration of what happens when one gives one's friends too much freedom.
THE ALBION STAR: Have you ever used them to escape punishment?
SEBASTIAN: No.
THE ALBION STAR: Not even once?
SEBASTIAN: I have attempted to explain myself on numerous occasions. Whether my face has contributed to the success of those explanations is a matter for the people involved.
THE ALBION STAR: A diplomatic answer.
SEBASTIAN: Thank you.
THE ALBION STAR: You are aware that people find you approachable?
SEBASTIAN: I hope so.
THE ALBION STAR: And that your quiet manner can be misleading?
SEBASTIAN: In what sense?
THE ALBION STAR: You are a young man who dreams of possible futures, leads a supernatural detective agency, and has been targeted by a being who apparently intends to consume him. Yet you seem perfectly content to sit in a chair and discuss cake.
SEBASTIAN: I do not see why those things should be mutually exclusive.
THE ALBION STAR: You are not what one might call a conventional hero.
SEBASTIAN: I should be disappointed if I were.
THE ALBION STAR: What, then, do you consider your greatest strength?
For once, he does not answer immediately.
SEBASTIAN: I listen.
THE ALBION STAR: That is all?
SEBASTIAN: No. I make decisions when I must. I try to understand people before judging them. I admit when I do not know something. And I try to remember that seeing a possible future does not mean I understand the present.
THE ALBION STAR: You make leadership sound rather simple.
SEBASTIAN: It is not simple. It is merely less complicated when one remembers that other people are allowed to be right.
THE ALBION STAR: And your greatest weakness?
SEBASTIAN: I sometimes believe that if I worry hard enough, I can prevent everything that might go wrong.
THE ALBION STAR: Can you?
SEBASTIAN: No.
THE ALBION STAR: Does that stop you worrying?
SEBASTIAN: Unfortunately not.
THE ALBION STAR: Perhaps you should bake a cake.
SEBASTIAN: I was considering it.
PART VIII: A LIGHTNING ROUND, BECAUSE THE FUTURE WAITED FOR NO MAN
The Star concluded the interview with a series of rapid questions intended to catch Mr Ashford off guard.
The results were mixed.
THE ALBION STAR: Tea or coffee?
SEBASTIAN: Tea.
THE ALBION STAR: Snow or rain?
SEBASTIAN: Snow.
THE ALBION STAR: Why?
SEBASTIAN: Snow makes the world quiet. Rain makes everything damp.
THE ALBION STAR: Bread or cake?
SEBASTIAN: That is a cruel question.
THE ALBION STAR: You must choose.
SEBASTIAN: Bread.
THE ALBION STAR: Sponge cake or plain bread?
SEBASTIAN: I refuse to participate in this interview any further.
THE ALBION STAR: Archery or swordsmanship?
SEBASTIAN: Archery. I prefer not to be within arm's reach of whatever I am shooting at.
THE ALBION STAR: Reading or sleeping?
SEBASTIAN: Reading.
THE ALBION STAR: You hesitate.
SEBASTIAN: I was considering the circumstances.
THE ALBION STAR: Adrian Blackwood or Henry Wyndham?
SEBASTIAN: For what purpose?
THE ALBION STAR: You must choose one to help you solve a murder.
SEBASTIAN: Adrian.
THE ALBION STAR: And one to help you survive a murder attempt?
SEBASTIAN: Henry.
THE ALBION STAR: And one to help you dispose of a body?
SEBASTIAN: I would like to know why we are disposing of a body before selecting the appropriate colleague.
THE ALBION STAR: You are ruining the game.
SEBASTIAN: I am preserving the evidence.
THE ALBION STAR: Wolpertinger or a perfectly ordinary dog?
SEBASTIAN: Wolpertinger.
WOLPERTINGER: Correct answer.
THE ALBION STAR: Has a talking dog ever given you bad advice?
SEBASTIAN: Constantly.
WOLPERTINGER: Slander.
THE ALBION STAR: One last question. If you could see exactly one thing about your future, what would you choose?
Mr Ashford's expression softens.
SEBASTIAN: I think I would like to know that the people I care about will be all right.
THE ALBION STAR: And yourself?
SEBASTIAN: I should hope to be all right, too.
THE ALBION STAR: You would not wish to know whether you become a great detective? Whether you solve every mystery? Whether you defeat the Emerald Gentleman?
SEBASTIAN: No. I would rather discover those things by living.
He smiles, and the infamous dimples make their brief appearance.
SEBASTIAN: Besides, if I knew everything that was going to happen, I should have nothing to look forward to.
THE ALBION STAR: Even the unpleasant things?
SEBASTIAN: Especially the unpleasant things. They might turn out differently from what I expect.
THE ALBION STAR: You sound almost optimistic.
SEBASTIAN: I am occasionally optimistic.
THE ALBION STAR: And if the future disappoints you?
SEBASTIAN: I shall make another cake.
WOLPERTINGER: And I shall inspect it.
SEBASTIAN: You shall not.
WOLPERTINGER: Then I shall inspect it from the inside.
The interview ended shortly thereafter, owing to a disagreement concerning the security of the remaining biscuits.
THE ALBION STAR'S VERDICT
Sebastian Ashford is not, perhaps, the sort of gentleman one expects to find at the centre of an extraordinary supernatural mystery.
He is too young, too gentle, and far too willing to interrupt a discussion of eldritch danger to offer someone a cup of tea.
Yet beneath his quiet manner lies a determined mind and a willingness to confront uncertainties that would send more confident men into a state of considerable theatrical distress.
He does not claim to know everything. He does not mistake his visions for divine instruction. And, perhaps most importantly, he does not believe that being a Seer relieves him of the obligation to listen to ordinary people.
His colleagues appear to trust him. His familiar appears to exploit him. His enemies, if they possess any sense, ought to be worried.
As for the Emerald Gentleman, we can only observe that Mr Rutherford has made a tactical error common among men of considerable ambition: he has mistaken a quiet gentleman for a harmless one.
We recommend he reconsider.
Preferably before the next issue.
FIVE THINGS WE LEARNED ABOUT SEBASTIAN ASHFORD
1. He cannot predict everything. Particularly the whereabouts of his umbrella, the behaviour of his colleagues, or whether Wolpertinger has eaten the evidence.
2. He is a democratic leader. Everyone gets a voice at No. 7 Faraday Street. Whether everyone uses that voice to offer a sensible suggestion remains another matter.
3. He bakes when stressed. This is excellent news for his household and potentially catastrophic news for the household's collective waistcoats.
4. His dimples are not a defence. We have been assured of this by Mr Ashford himself, which is precisely the sort of statement one makes when one's dimples are, in fact, a defence.
5. He believes the future can change. In a city full of impossible mysteries, dangerous men, and things that ought not to exist, it is perhaps the most important thing about him.
AN EDITORIAL NOTE
The Albion Star wishes to remind its readers that Mr Ashford's opinions are his own, that no definitive prediction regarding his future has been obtained, and that our correspondent did not, under any circumstances, encourage Wolpertinger to steal a biscuit.
We would also like to clarify that the biscuit was already missing when the interview commenced.
The agency has declined to comment.
Wolpertinger has requested a second interview.
We are considering our options.
THE ALBION STAR
All the news that is fit to print, and several things that probably aren't.
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