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The Dragon Download: The Ambivalence Chronicles, #4
The Dragon Download: The Ambivalence Chronicles, #4
The Dragon Download: The Ambivalence Chronicles, #4
Ebook131 pages1 hourThe Ambivalence Chronicles

The Dragon Download: The Ambivalence Chronicles, #4

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Following on from the climax of The Road Worrier, retrogamer Phil Grundy, his goth daughter Charlotte, the enigmatic Bryonetta Bootlesquith, Doc Nectarine and Sam Cooper escape the grip of the self-proclaimed ruler of Romford, Viktor Wendig, and the Assembly of Newly Uplifted Systems.  Joined by two mysterious 'dragon hunters', the Ambivalence crew get caught up in a game of cat and mouse across the dystopian town, but as multiple instances of the ancient Entelechus Hex are invoked, the walls between reality and imagination start to crumble.

As they navigate the increasingly chaotic world, alliances are tested and fashion choices questioned.  Will they defeat Wendig, or will it be enough to just get home alive?  Will the dragon hunters find any?  And why does Dexy suddenly seem to be just another ZX81?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherSteve Trower
Release dateApr 13, 2025
ISBN9798227959072
The Dragon Download: The Ambivalence Chronicles, #4
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Author

Steve Trower

Steve Trower is a geek dad and part-time creator of parallel universes. He currently lives in Northumberland two daughters, one wife, and a collection of 8-bit computers, none of which has yet shown signs of sentience. In between - and frequently at - a series of menial jobs he managed to write non-fiction pieces for a number of print magazines, as well as practicing the dark art of novel writing. Having decided that making stuff up was a lot more fun than being bound by those 'fact' thingies magazine editors seem so keen on, he chose to concentrate on that, and now has two completely fictitious universes to take care of. He lives on the internet at facebook.com/stevetrower and on various post-twitter socials as @SPTrowerEsq.

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    The Dragon Download - Steve Trower

    Level One - Enter The Dragon

    Phil Grundy brushed pastry crumbs from the article on the Dragon 32 he had been reading in Retro Format, and quietly wished he was in a riverside pub with a ploughman’s lunch and a craft ale, not hurriedly swallowing contraband pork pies in a car park in Romford.

    The car park in question had long been abandoned to the forces of nature, and in its furthest corners even the Ambivalence, a high-top Dodge Spacevan which had once served as a St John’s Ambulance, could lurk behind the overgrown weeds and bushes, unseen from the Romford Municipal Landmark and the jumbled campus of buildings which spread around it.

    Tucking his magazine safely into a map pocket, Phil jumped down from the driver’s seat and made his way to the back of the Ambivalence, pausing only briefly to pick up the last surviving can of Red Max. The Elixir of Legends! it said on the can. Unleash the beast within with Red Max! also. Most of the Red Max had already been unleashed in a legendary tsunami of caffeine and B-vitamins which had marked their arrival at the Municipal Landmark.

    Feeling in need of a boost, Phil opened the can and took a healthy swig, barely registering the unusual flavour combinations of joopleberry, chopped pork, and lighter fluid, until moments later when a mighty belch brought them all back.

    ‘Excuse you,’ Sam Cooper said from beside a small purple vehicle.

    Phil smiled apologetically, partly because he was suppressing another burp, and partly because her beloved Mini had been heavily accessorised with spikes, and armour plating, and for some reason a whaling gun, while she had been transformed into a wannabe Daisy Duke with epic big hair.

    At the back of the Ambivalence, tiny dust devils and neon-tinted-baby-wipe devils swirled around a ruined henge of half-empty cans.

    Charlotte Grundy slumped in the van’s open doors, her long hair dishevelled and her black dress stained with dust and Red Max. ‘Well you won’t stick to anything now.’ She cleaned her fingers and threw one last wipe into the wind. ‘But I hope Benny wasn’t too attached to that carpet.’

    The Space Invaders themed rug which had clearly been ground zero for the Great Red Max Disaster was draped sadly over a fence, dripping pink stuff into a puddle in the dust.

    ‘I think,’ Phil said, tugging at the harpoon which skewered the Ambivalence’s back door, ‘the carpet would be the least of his concerns.’

    ‘Guys?’ Doc Nectarine’s voice echoed within the bottle bank he had converted into impromptu lookout point. ‘I think it’s about to get lairy.’

    ‘Ready to go?’ Bryonetta Bootlesquith seemed to just come and go while nobody was looking. Now she was striding purposefully across the broken tarmac, her pastel pink suit immaculately pressed and spotlessly clean, one hand holding the matching bowler hat in place as her ponytail fluttered in the wind.

    Across the car park, a small mob of uncomfortable looking people in angry suits spilled out of the Municipal Landmark in pursuit of two figures in bright coloured shirts, presumably wanted for some crime against whatever passed for fashion in this world.

    With her non-hat restraining hand, Bryonetta pulled the harpoon from the Ambivalence’s metalwork without a second thought and casually tossed it aside.

    ‘I’ll drive,’ she said, and before Phil had time to protest, the keys were in her hand and she was in the driving seat.

    ‘Nectarine!’ Charlotte shouted as the engine spluttered into life. ‘Get in!’

    The purple Mini, meanwhile, threw a cloud of dust in their direction and accelerated towards the oncoming burly brawl.

    ‘Where’s she going?’ Nectarine asked as he pulled the Ambivalence door closed behind him.

    ‘Sam?’ Phil repeated into his Space Patrol walkie talkie. ‘Where are you going?’

    ‘I’m going to get Magnum P.I. and his friend before those thugs catch them.’

    ‘They’ll be fine, they have a Porsche,’ Phil pointed out, but even as he looked, another group of heavies was taking up defensive positions around the silver 959. ‘Oh.’

    ‘You lot get out of here,’ Sam said. ‘I’ll... think of something.’

    The ‘something’ Sam thought of was to call in air support, which thwapped its way into Romford airspace a few moments later in the form of a noisy, outdated, and extremely green Helichopper.

    ‘Miss Cooper,’ Mr Heli watched from above as the Mini charged at the mob swarming from the exit. ‘Can I be of assistance?’

    A machine gun on the Mini’s front wing flared, and the crowd dispersed as a row of warning shots thunked into the building behind them.

    ‘Heli?’ Sam’s voice was thin and distant in his headset. ‘Two men in Hawaiian shirts,’ she said. ‘Can you get them out of Wendig’s reach and somewhere safe?’

    ‘Roger Roger,’ Mr Heli replied, swooping in over the two figures as Sam’s Mini fell in behind them, weaving across the road to hold back the crowd.

    With a skilled hand holding the stick steady, he reached across to open the side door and kicked a rope ladder to drop down in front of the escapees.

    ‘What are they carrying?’ he wondered as he nudged the controls to counteract first one, and then a second additional weight. With a quick glance down to confirm they were successfully clinging on, he gently lifted the chopper out of reach, its brightly coloured guests clambering awkwardly up the ladder.

    ‘Sam? Heli,’ he spoke into his headset. ‘Upload complete. I’ll find a safe point for your friends and come back for you.’

    ‘Roger that H,’ Sam replied. ‘Don’t be a stranger.’

    After taking the Helichopper up to a safe height, the pilot turned to his passengers, who were making a determined yet ultimately fruitless attempt to make themselves comfortable in the cramped space behind the pilot’s seat. ‘Welcome aboard,’ he said, but then realised he couldn’t hear himself over the noise of the engine. After some rummaging in a storage compartment he found a couple more headsets like his own, and passed them back to the others.

    ‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,’ he started again, swapping his usual West Country lilt for a smoothest Jazz FM voice. ‘I am your captain for this aerial tour of the Romford and Greater Hornchurch area. Our flight time today will be approximately 12 minutes and we’ll be cruising at an altitude of 500 feet. We may experience a few bumps en route but this is nothing to be concerned about. Our cabin crew will be coming through shortly to offer you refreshments.’ He paused his impromptu speech, rummaged for second, and tossed a bag of Mentos behind him. ‘Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.’

    ‘Er, thank you,’ one of them said hesitantly. ‘Name’s McCaffrey,’ he introduced himself with a nod. The man wore a bright blue Hawaiian style shirt and dark glasses even in the gloom of the Helichopper’s cabin. Both carried large backpacks. ‘And this is Pearl,’ he added, gesturing towards his colleague in a contrasting red shirt. She didn’t look like a Pearl. She

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