Part 13: Ribbon-Cutting Ceremony

One hour earlier.
Police Constable I: Please enter in an orderly manner, everyone. The ceremony will begin shortly.
Beside the device, the sign originally reading "London Air Pollution Auto-Detecting Purifier MK. II" now reads "MK. III" thanks to a single additional brushstroke.
Will: Freddy, can you see Mr. Fog? I can't see a thing past all these people.
Freddy the Rascal: You brought the telescope, didn't you, Dad? Maybe I can see if I look through it.
Will: Good idea. Here, take the telescope and get on my shoulders. Hold on tight, you hear? This crowd's rabid. All this pushin' and shovin' just to take a look at a machine!
Will: Then again, the most exciting thing we've had around here as of late is the rats fightin' in the underground.
Freddy the Rascal: I see him, Dad. I see Mr. Fog.
Will: What's he doin'?
Freddy the Rascal: Blimey! He's smackin' the machine! It's really strange lookin'.
Freddy the Rascal: About half the height of Mr. Fog, and connected to a very long tube and a massive funnel!
Freddy the Rascal: Ooh! What's that?!
Freddy the Rascal: Right there inside the machine, there's a huge mechanical organ or somethin', like a lung!
Will: Ah, sod it. Hold tight, Freddy. Dad's goin' to squeeze his way to the front!
Will: Alright, I can see them now. Eh? I don't recognize those two in uniform. Are they the officers sent from the Foundation headquarters in Australia?
Neighbor I: That's what I heard. The Uluru Committee sent them here to supervise the qualifiers, and they'll report the results back to their headquarters, too.
Will: Ah, so it's down to them whether our athletes make it to the finals in Australia or not. I'm countin' on them.
Neighbor I: Oh, please, Will. It's the players that you should count on, not the judges.
Will: Well, I hope they like Caroline as much as I do!
Freddy the Rascal: Look, Dad! Mr. Fog's about to give a demonstration of his purifier to the officers.
Neighbor I: I heard that it can filter out the smog within ten yards of itself, and it only takes one night to process the waste. The qualifiers will only last two weeks, so it should manage splendidly.
Freddy the Rascal: It's workin'. It's workin'!
Will: Blimey, it's powerful! It's gulpin' down the smog faster than a builder downs a pint in the pub!
Neighbor I: I wonder how it works. It's a miracle that a mechanical lung of this size can purify so much air without letting out any waste!
Neighbor I: can purify so much air without letting out any waste!
Will: The smog's gettin' thinner. I can see more clearly now.
Neighbor I: Look, it's even purifying the smog all the way out there! I dare say the ivy on my balcony will be enjoying fresh air within the hour!
Freddy the Rascal: Mr. Fog's smilin', Dad. Ain't that great?!
Will: It is. We ain't seen him smile for ages.
Freddy the Rascal: The hat looks happy too! It's dancin'!
Will: Is he doin' that Australian ranger dance again? Oh, look at the expression on those Foundation officers' faces.
Freddy the Rascal: Hmm. They don't look happy or mad. Is somethin' wrong?
Will: Woah! What's goin' on? The machine's shakin' like hell!
*beep-beep-beep*
Neighbor I: What's that sound? Some kind of alarm?!
*beep-beep-beep*
Will: Oh! Christ! Cover your ears, Freddy! That howlin' will make you deaf. What in the bloody hell is goin' on?!

*boom*
Freddy the Rascal: D-Dad?
Will: Freddy? Are you alright?
Freddy the Rascal: I'm fine. It's the machine. It blew up!
Will: What?!
Freddy the Rascal: First the pipe blew open, then its glass belly shattered, and the mechanical lung rolled out from inside. It's vomitin' up black blood.
Will: There's no way.
Freddy the Rascal: And, and Mr. Fog!
Will: What happened to him?
Freddy the Rascal: He's coughin' and coughin'.
Foundation Branch Member II: Three and a half minutes.
Foundation Branch Member I: I guess neither one of us won that bet. It didn't even last half as long as I predicted.
Foundation Branch Member II: Don't be cruel, Gregory. We didn't come all this way just to laugh at these poor people.
Foundation Branch Member I: But they did do even worse than predicted. That's a fact, isn't it? And it proves that the London Climate Management Agency is nothing but a joke.
Foundation Branch Member II: Listen, Gregory. I know you must be exhausted from the long journey and your constant sneezing, but you can't say that to their faces. Let's just do our job and give them the news.
Foundation Branch Member I: What news?
She flips through the athlete roster in her hand.
Foundation Branch Member II: We have to tell them.
She verifies the list, ensuring that all the names of the arcanist athletes are accounted for.
When she's done, she lightly pats Mr. Fog on the shoulder.
Foundation Branch Member II: Mr. Fog? Mr. Fog?
Mr. Fog turns his head, his eyes vacant. It seems he hasn't yet got over the shock of this series of events.
Foundation Branch Member II: Please move aside. I need to use the microphone.
Mr. Fog slowly steps aside.
Brimley: Oi, Miss. What are you ...
He quickly realizes the impropriety of his obstruction, tips his brim, and floats gently in the air.
Foundation Branch Member II: Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to the ceremony today. We greatly appreciate your hospitality, and it heartens us to see you thriving despite the difficulties caused by the smog.
Foundation Branch Member II: However, it is clear to us that the London Air Pollution Auto-Detecting Purifier MK. III is not able to fulfill its duty.
Foundation Branch Member II: Barring an effective solution, the smog shrouding London will do irreversible damage to both the athletes and the general populace if they stay outdoors for too long.
Foundation Branch Member II: In light of this, and after much consideration, the Uluru International Committee has decided ...
Foundation Branch Member II: To cancel the London Qualifiers for the Uluru Games.
Foundation Branch Member II: We will announce arrangements for the affected players once internal discussions are over.
Behind her cold mask, the woman methodically scans the crowd.
The previously raucous energy of the crowd has been replaced by a uniform disappointment.
Foundation Branch Member II: Thank you all for your hard work.
Flutterpage: What?
Flutterpage: Are you sayin' that the London Qualifiers have been canceled?
Tooth Fairy: I'm afraid so.
Tooth Fairy: I wasn't there, but Mr. Brimley told me what happened in the stadium. Mr. Fog has locked himself in his office. He's refusing to speak to anyone.
Tooth Fairy: It seems there's nothing we can do about it.
Willow: ...
Willow: Heh!
Willow pulls her hand away from Flutterpage's and gives her a solemn look.
Without a word, she turns and leaves.
Flutterpage: Ms. Willow? Where you goin'?!
Flutterpage: Ms. Willow! Ms. Willow!!
She tries to chase after her, but a flood of workers sent to take down the site blocks her way.
Flutterpage: Ms. Willow!
Willow turns and gives her one last glance.
Before slipping away into the bustling crowd.
Flutterpage: panting
Flutterpage: panting
Flutterpage lifts her head, her eyes meeting Tooth Fairy's.
Flutterpage: Ms.-Ms. Tooth Fairy ...
Flutterpage: Why?