Viki glares out of the window, her mother sits across from the Colonel. London passes by.
MRS HADFIELD
I cannot thank you enough, Colonel.
COLONEL BRADLEY
Mrs Hadfield, you are not to blame for your husband's behaviour.
MRS HADFIELD
Even so.
COLONEL BRADLEY
The mob will descend on your home like as not once the news of your husband's treachery reaches the newspapers.
Viki turns on him.
VIKI
My father is not a traitor!
COLONEL BRADLEY
Your loyalty is a credit to your family, Miss Hadfield. But I suggest you look to your Mother for guidance in this matter.
MRS HADFIELD
Victoria, there is little doubt, your father was there, only he could have known the King's itinerary. He fired on the King's Guards.
VIKI
Mother, how can you say such things - he is my father - your husband.
COLONEL BRADLEY
It is no easy thing. But there is no doubt. You must accept it.
Viki turns away and stares out the window again.
The carriage moves slowly through the dense horse-drawn carriage. Ahead women protesters carry placards for women's suffrage.
COLONEL BRADLEY (V/O)
Did you take my advice and book these lodgings in a different name? Once the newspapers learn of this...
Above the Victorian and older buildings, metal gantries carry curious antenna that glow with a blue light.
The carriage approaches Westminster Bridge, boats large and small ply the Thames.
Across the river, turning high above the Houses of Parliament in a constant pattern: Royal Navy voidships hang beneath their anti-gravity sails, smoke billows from their stacks and massive propellers churn the air.
