Doogan here and I’m lucky to be alive- after a night of
determined investigation in no less than five of China Station’s more liberal
entertainment establishments.
The drone of powerful engines awakened this reporter from
his gentle, gutter-side slumber outside of Lady Edna Beardsley’s famed
Tropicana/Orient nightclub. With my finely tuned newsman’s eye for detail, it
was apparent immediately that all activity on this normally hectic street had
come to a precipitous halt and that locals and foreigners alike were craning
their necks to the sky in an attempt to spot the origin of the noise.
As my blurred vision strained to focus I puzzled at the
unusual silver tone of the morning sky but within seconds I realized that what
we were witnessing was indeed the low passing of a titanic air-ship.
Within moments this leviathan of the sky had moved off over
to the foreign quarter of the city and as people began conversing excitedly
there was a huge explosion which shook the very ground on which I lay. Within
seconds a plume of black smoke began to rise from somewhere within the foreign
legations.
I am writing this dispatch from my room and as soon as I
shake this pounding headache, I intend to delve into this singular event. It is
entirely possible that whatever violent disaster has occurred, it could be
somehow linked to the mysterious fate of missing American Scientist, Dr. Raullo
Ortega, inventor of the cosmic beam annihilator.
Until next time, turn the lights off Ma and let the cat out,
this is Doogan Signing off.
