Hello my good friends in the Steamlands. I assume by now that my disappearance has become a hot topic of discussion and conjecture. Let me assure you that I am well, as are my children Gematria and Ash.
It was only a matter of time. I knew that someday the same bureaucratic tyrants that terrorized the Pearses and the Riels would come for me. All Sparks rue the day when the mobs gather outside one's laboratory. Even worse than the outraged vigilantes, or course, are the outraged authorities. The difference between the two threats is "Search and Destroy" versus "Research and Destroy". Perhaps it was one explosion too many, or someone took one of my compulsive rants about world domination a bit too seriously. Did I reach some unspoken limit on how many sentient constructs I could unleash upon the world? For all I know their investors may have been squeamish about my Dolls. Would they have preferred an army of cybernetic Komodo Dragons trotting about to purchase my supplies?
Only they could override my lab's defenses so easily. The drab blue uniforms charged through the doorway and the secret entrances just in time to see me tesseract to safety onboard the Gygax II, orbiting out of their sphere of influence.
Gem and Ash have been working tirelessly on this project for months, only stopping to recharge, make the occasional social gathering or stop a coup in Steeltopia. Unfortunately, the ship was not finished yet. My construct children can pass through the airlock and continue to upgrade the aethership without an atmosphere, of course. But the only safe chamber for me is the control room.
I look through my viewscreen at the quiet tableau of green and blue. I can make out the new continent, Zimvader or something. The Founder died once to prevent New Gomorrah from coming to be, yet the Reality Engineers are intent to build it themselves. I see the Mainland of course, I have to adjust the contrast from all the bling. Below it I see the hastily built peninsula of Nautilus, gaudily overbuilt. It takes some magnification to make out Steelhead and Caledon. One is truly blessed to find a beautiful home. How doubly blessed I was to find two.
Ah, there's New Babbage. I can trace the soot cloud. Marvellous to behold from this height. I should warn them about that large school of air kraken nesting on that cumulo-nimbus.
I'll just listen in on the aether frequencies, catch up on the journals and twittergraphs and...I'll miss...I'm sorry, I'm just...a bit over...
YOU DARE TO EXILE ME?!? DO YOU THINK YOU'VE SEEN THE LAST OF***END TRANSMISSION***