31 December 2008

What's in a Name?

As someone who tries to write fiction, do you know what I find really tricky? Naming characters.

If I pick a name from someone who's a friend of mine, am I writing that person as that character? Probably not but my subconscious might pick up and use part of that person's personality in the character and then it looks like I did use them as a character base.

Or lets say I'm naming a female character and I choose the name of a friend of mine or a name that sounds close to their name. Does that mean that comments I make regarding the character should be directed to that real life person? No.

As I've noted here before, I have written stories with characters based on people I've known. That's different and may be why I'm more concerned about this than I should be. Most people I know are reasonably clever and can tell the difference between reality and fiction.

I guess I'm just worried about the people that aren't so clever. Is that reasonable on my part?

Great. just great

Yesterday I grumbled about one order I'd placed online and today I get to grumble about another.

I ordered some electronic equipment from another establishment and said order arrived yesterday. Hot dog!... only one of the items was incorrect. Instead of being an inexpensive camera type toy that I figured I could play with, I was sent a cheap camera type toy that might not be worth playing with at all.

I'm sure it was just a minor error and I've started the process to fix the error but it's just annoying.

30 December 2008

Short Notes

Went to Half Price Books today with a box of stuff to sell. Turned it into other stuff rather than just taking the money. Nice to see that streak is still alive.

Caught up on my typing yesterday which is more work than you'd think. I can only sit for so long before I get fidgety or have to shift or something. That normally means a number of 'brief' typing sessions with breaks in-between. The tricky thing is keeping the breaks as breaks and not as distractions that turn into doing something else.

Amazon UK sent my order in two packages: one had all my DVDs in it and the other held the lone CD I ordered. The CD was shipped second so of course it arrived first. Don't get me wrong; I'm pleased to have it, but it's built the expectation in me that the DVDs would arrive soon after. They have yet to show. It irritates me a little. I'm concerned that my momentum to watch the items will fade if they take too long to arrive. That happens to me a lot.

Back to cleaning.

29 December 2008

Just being twitchy, don't mind me

I feel I've had some issues of late being focused. It's not that I haven't been accomplishing things or making progress with projects because I have. I've got a nice chunk of new story sitting in a notebook that's starting to make it's way to typed up. The problem is that I've been working on a number of projects all at once, I continue to consider new projects, and I'm forced to wonder if I'm using my time as well as I could.

A lot of this is just nerves. I know I need to work on earning some money soon and the idea of going some other place on a regular basis in order to do things to earn said money, well, it will take me away from all these projects I'm working on.

Anyway, it'll all work out. I'm working on stuff. For the moment, that's what's important.

28 December 2008

Football

I doubt I've got any Detroit Lions fans reading this but, if for some reason those people yet exist and one is reading this please don't misunderstand me when I say I'm glad the Lions went 0-16 this year.

For one, I'm glad the Lions didn't beat the Packers to go 1-15 and that's solely cause the Packer season was crummy enough and didn't need that stigma attached to it as well.

Mostly I'm glad because 0-16 makes it a spectacular failure. Any team can go 1-15 but to go 0-16 is special, something that will get remembered. I know it's not a good memory to have but at least it's something.

Also it prevents management from looking at a win in the final game of the season and going 'See, we just starting jelling this organization back together. We can't make more changes now.' There's no excuse to not burn things down and start over.

I saw 'burn things down' in a figurative, not literal sense. I know how excitable Detroit can be.

Now, how long before Brett Favre becomes a Minnesota Viking and incurs the wrath of Wisconsin?

27 December 2008

Yawn

Have had a mild sinus issue this past week and it built to not quite sleeping right for a couple nights. This led to tired and napping throughout the day. Last night I determined that part of the problem was a lack of beer. A couple of those and I slept all sorts of nice.

Still tired though. Need to catch up a bit.

26 December 2008

Thanks a lot Jay

Wednesday during the conversation at the comic book store, my buddy Jay recommended a show called 'Snapped'. It just so happened that there was a marathon of the show on yesterday. Once I sampled it, I could not turn away. I left it on the entire day.

The premise is simple really. These are real life stories of women who finally take one step over the line and snap, generally by killing their husband. What I found interesting about the show is that it doesn't always side with the woman involved. If the story isn't cut and dry thanks to the evidence, the story gets told rather evenly. If it's clear the husband was some sort of rat bastard, you tend to feel sympathetic for the wife, even though she went too far. Sometimes the woman's just no good and the show turns on her.

There are shootings, plotted killings, wrenches to the head, poisonings, and I saw an axe murder yesterday. Good grief! You might not want to watch it while you eat either as there were some nasty looking crime scene photos on display.

Of course now I'm convinced that women are out to get me. Thanks a lot Jay.

25 December 2008

It's good to have goals and find ways to meet them.

This past weekend I made a remarkable discovery while curled up hiding from the snow: 'Caddyshack' is a wonderful cure for writer's block. I've seen it so many times that it makes for excellent background noise while I work. I've used it three times now to great success. I'm hoping it will last a bit longer at least.

Afterall I am trying to write a book here.

24 December 2008

Review: '24 Hour Party People'

Part of my problem with 'Confessions of a Dangerous Mind' may be that I watched it a few days after watching '24 Hour Party People'. Both are movies based on real life events. Both are trying to cover decades of time within a two hour window. Both are covering entertainment that I have an interest in. One movie was affecting, drawing me into the movie and the stories it told and one didn't. Since I already said yesterday that 'Confessions...' didn't drag me in, well, the math is pretty simple on this one.

'24 Hour Party People' is the story of Factory Records, a Manchester based company headed by television presenter Tony Wilson. The story follows him despite his insistence that the bands are the important part of the story, that he merely happened to be there. While Factory released albums by a number of different artists, the movie covers the rise and fall of only two: Joy Division (and New Order that spun from Joy Division so technically three I suppose) and the Happy Mondays.

While based on real events, the movie was largely improvised by the cast, which gives the movie more of a documentary type feel, as if this was captured, 'behind the scenes' type footage. The fact that this can lead to details being altered or misremembered by the original participants is addressed within the film in a manner that I found clever and funny at the same time.

See, since Tony Wilson was a television presenter, his character within the film (played by Steve Coogan) also narrates the film to us, as if he was presenting his life on television. He pops in and out of presenter mode as the film progresses and it's always very clear as to what's happening. After a particularly sad moment in his personal history, Tony walks past a man but the camera stays on said individual rather than following Tony. The individual turns to the camera and says something to the effect of 'That's not really what happened.' Narrator Tony explains that this is the real person involved in the scene and goes to point out other cameos of the people who lived this experience including the real Tony Wilson.

Even being pulled out of the reality of the movie like this, the acting is quality enough to make it affecting. When Bad Things happen, I got sad. When Funny Things happened, I smiled. The DVD box touts it as a comedy but that's not really fair to the movie. It's amusing, light hearted when it can be, but it's not really funny as such. It may interest and amaze you how people that could be so bright at times could also be so stupid. Hmm, sounds like I'm talking about myself now. At least that's what my parents and teachers and supervisors have told me in the past.

I must note, in all fairness, that I have a 2007 BBC4 documentary on Factory Records that provides the same information found within the film only for 'real'. I've watched that a few times before seeing the film and that familiarity with the story may have helped my enjoyment of the film somehow. The information in the movie did largely match up with the documentary and seeing that accuracy might have built my appreciation. Really, the movie should be re-released on DVD with that documentary as it is very well done. It's made me want more BBC made entertainment related documentaries so it did it's job as well.

Recommended. The movie is clever enough that I think it will hold the interest of those unfamiliar with the music involved.

23 December 2008

Review: 'Confessions of a Dangerous Mind'

In general, my family's got a pretty weird sense of humour. It seems normal for awhile and then you find that subject that sets us off and, boom!, weird. Don't get me wrong, every family has its own set of inside jokes or comments just like every set of friends has but my family is oft been referred to as weird. Admittedly, I draw a lot of those comments to myself but the rest of my immediate family is not immune.

I think most of this comes from my Dad as we kinda had to train my Mom to be weird and, as is right, she's done so in her own unique way. When I was little, she used to be the more protective one of my parents, more concerned with what was going to warp me. Not that she wasn't fun or that Dad wasn't concerned but this seemed to be more Mom's job. She was the one that wasn't comfortable with me having 'Star Wars' stuff as a kid because 'War' was in the title and that was bad. I remember having to politely talk her into letting me get the Marvel 'Secret Wars' action figures for the same reason.

With all that in mind, why did I get to see so much of Chuck Barris' work as a kid? We watched 'The $1.98 Beauty Pageant' every week. I vividly remember 'The Gong Show' and 'The Newlywed Game'. Some of his other shows are vaguely familiar.

I've got one of Chuck's autobiographies. It was a fun read, mixing stories from his past in television with fun stories from his present in France. I don't remember it having any talk of him being a hitman for the CIA in it.

That's one of the main threads of the autobiographical movie, that Barris spent time working for the CIA. It's an interesting idea only because it's not clear where the truth lies. If it's true, it's great cover because I don't think most people would believe it. The best lie is a truth that no one believes. It could be that Chuck's doing this for the fun of it, that it's a gag and he's messing with us. It could also be that he's crazy. I'm not sure it makes a difference but trying to figure out that truth was the most engaging part of the movie to me.

The movie does weave moments of actual television history into its tale, expertly blurring the lines of the recreation of events with the actual moments replayed on monitors. Long time friends of Chuck comment on him and as to whether or not they believe he worked for the CIA. Chuck himself pops up at the end for a comment. The bulk of the film is a dramatization of events.

While never bad, it's the dramatizations I didn't care for. I never felt that engaged with the characters despite my familiarity with the people they were portraying. In my opinion, the movie is unclear with what it wants to be. Is it a comedy? Is it a look at a tortured soul? Is it truly a Confession of deeds done? All the pieces are there but they never really gelled for me. I didn't hate it, I didn't wish I'd just gotten the last two hours of my life back, but I never felt excited, like I got into the film. I reacted to it once or twice but never 'stepped into it' and felt part of its universe as it unfolded around me.

I purchased it second hand and inexpensively so I don't feel ripped off in any way.

Mild recommendation to avoid.

22 December 2008

I have been behaving myself rather well, up til now anyway.

The other day in the newspaper I noted an item stating that the value of the British pound had slid. Hmm, I thought, I wonder how far a 'slide'. The last I'd checked, six months ago or so, a pound had been worth about $2 and had been so for a good year or two. I somehow find an exchange rate of $1.50 to a pound to be more 'traditional' but I don't know why I feel that way.

Amazon UK sends me email because I've bought stuff from them in the past (ah, the joys of a region free, DVD player). They are running sales, as is everyone else.

What did the pound 'slide' to anyway? Oh, just under $1.50.

I have more British television heading my way from Britain. Once I saw that the entire 'The Fast Show' (aka Brilliant! in America) was available in a 7 DVD set for 15 pounds, I was lost. That's laughs on the cheap, that is.

21 December 2008

Locations. Memories.

I went down that street again.

I haven't had much reason to take that street of late. Even when I had a reason to visit that side of town I had been approaching it from different angles so I didn't take that street. Suddenly I had a reason and I took that path and here I am, going down that street. The restaurant is still there. Every time I see the restaurant I think of you and smile.

It was a forever ago as I recall. I can't remember why I stopped in there any more. I think I knew you worked there. I remember being pleased to see you and you not looking so pleased to be seen. When I made it clear that I didn't care about our location and was just pleased to see you, you brightened.

Return trips were easier because you were more relaxed in my presence. I could joke. I could tease. I could be silly, even from across the room. You would smile. That was nice. It made for a good boost to both our workdays, didn't it?

Indeed it was a forever ago. I don't know if I am still that confidently silly, well, from across the room anyway, in public, with only one friend around. Put me somewhere safe, with a number of friends and certainly you'll see silly but like that? I don't know. Perhaps I've lost something during the forever.

Hope you are well. And happy. Happy and well with someone that can be silly to you so that you smile.

I turn onto the freeway. I am off that street again.

20 December 2008

Notes for 'The Time I Met the Doctor'

-While last week's story with the Ice Warriors in a hospital was never released so far as I can remember, this story has gotten around a bit. It was submitted to a fanzine for print but politely rejected as the Doctor and his friends don't get enough to do. It appeared on the ktne forum as a one part story. I had to chop it into fives for it to appear here as it would have been too long to submit as a whole.

-The Doctor appearing in this story is the Doctor as portrayed by Patrick Troughton, the second man to play the role on television (1966-1969). For comparison purposes, the current television Doctor, David Tennant, is the tenth man in that role, not counting silly parody sketches and such. The idea here is that the Doctor and his friends are outside their normal dimension, which explains the Doctor's lack of knowledge of the aliens and their language.

-Our main character, Patrick Thompson, is the main character in the novel I've written and realize requires much rewriting before it's done. I like Patrick. Part of the reason I wrote this was to have the Patricks meet as I did name my Patrick after Troughton. Patrick is also appearing in an El Hombre de Silla story that's halfway (or so) done.

-The Na'Dar are loosely based on the Oni race from the Urusei Yatsura series from Japan.

-I like putting people I like in cameo roles in stories. Mr. Kirby is one of them. He's based on the 'King of Comics' Jack Kirby, the man who co-created a number of the characters I'm fond of to this day: Captain America, the Fantastic Four, Thor, the X-Men, etc. There's a link on the right if you're more curious.

19 December 2008

'The Time I met the Doctor' - part 5

Erik pointed the device at the group. Victoria gulped nervously. Jamie steeled himself for the blast to come, only his eyes showing a hint of nervousness. The Doctor's face dropped in an 'oh my' expression. He began to wonder if he was close enough to dive in front of the other equipment and do something before he could be frozen, but then Toshiro bopped Erik on the head and Erik took a little nap. Toshiro looked at the Doctor. "Please shut down the machines affecting Patrick and the Na'Dar girl. We have little time before he revives." The Doctor nodded and got to work.

"Why did you hit him?" Victoria asked.

Toshiro looked at her for a moment before speaking. "I have never liked him and I discovered recently that he tricked me into helping him. I decided to wait until the next plot against Patrick before resigning. The distraction you provided helped remove all his attention from me so that I could tender my resignation."

One device beeped. "That's off then." The Doctor continued to fiddle.

"Patrick said you were a good man," Jamie noted. Then he grinned a little. "I'm glad I didn't have tu hit you."

Toshiro grinned slightly in return. "I am glad you didn't hit me either. I would have won that fight."

"Don't be so sure o' that."

"I think I can safely say that . . ."

"Neither of you need to fight," Victoria said firmly. "Right?"

"I suppose not."

"No, not really."

"Good."

The Doctor clapped his hands together excitedly. "That's all deactivated. Now, I need all your help in carting away the things that are Llan's before Erik wakes up." With the talk of fighting ended, they moved themselves to this new task.


Llan's hold on my neck stopped suddenly, bringing an abrupt end to our laughter. "I can let go," she said quietly.

"The Doctor must have gotten to the machine," I gathered aloud.

She smiled. "Excuse me, but I have some gentlemen that require an attitude realignment." Llan hopped off my lap, and rushed at Kenshiro. Kenshiro screeched like a little girl and started running. Akaru froze in surprise, which allowed Llan the opportunity to grab the camera from him. She then said something in her native language that, for some reason, didn't make sense to me, or just wasn't translated, and pulled back to hit him, but Akaru just ran away. Chojuro was already leaving. I smiled at her revenge. I'd have joined in, but I was busily rubbing my legs. The circulation had gotten rather poor with all the sitting on my lap and I wished to restore it quickly.

About then, the rain stopped too. "Oh happy day," I said enthusiastically.

Llan was giggling. "Man, do they suck. What a scared bunch of fools."

I patted her in what was hopefully a motion inducing way. "Let's find the Doctor and see if he has your stuff." She nodded and we started walking out. Figuring 'Why not?' mentally, I started waving to people as we left, just playfully, like I was on a float in a parade. I got some applause. People can be weird.


The sun came out. We never really were sure whether or not the thunderous rain had anything to do with Erik's use of the machine, but my theory was that he didn't understand how to use it properly and it was his fault. I can't prove it, but it's my theory and I'm sticking to it.

The Doctor borrowed Llan's cleanser device and concluded his work on his circuitry. He seemed quite pleased, said something about not being further interrupted on their travels by those stuffed shirts back home. Wherever that meant. Llan and I left on good terms, well, friendly terms I suppose. I only saw her two or three more times that year, and we'd say hi to each other, but little else really. She finished her year at the university and returned home. I've not seen her since. The Doctor never did explain how we all understood her. Entertainingly enough, we developed the pictures Akaru took of us and the rain was too thick to make out who was inside the storm anyway. They had the wrong speed film. Erik tried a few more evil plans on me before the end of the year, but none succeeded. I've not heard of him or from him since. I hope he's given up on me.


"That's funny," I said, on my way back to the library/computer room with Mr. Kirby's umbrella. "I don't remember seeing that before." It was a tall blue box, a lamp on top, with the words 'Police Public Call Box' visible on a sign near the top. It's the sort of thing you'd remember seeing.

"Yes," the Doctor said from behind me. "It is a bit odd and out of place, isn't it?"

"I think so. Although, it does sort of remind me a bit of the time when I was . ." The sound of a door slamming behind me caught my attention and I turned around. The Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria had been following me, but they were gone. The only place they could be hiding was the police box, which didn't look large enough for three. As I watched, the light atop the box began to flash and a strange grinding, groaning sound came from the box. As I watched, the box faded from sight.


My red headed lady friend blinked in surprise at me. "It just disappeared?"

"Yup. Since I never saw any of them again, I had to assume they were in the box and it was some sort of travel device, although that seems very weird indeed."

"What did Cuthbold say when you told him?"

"Very simple. I told him they were very impressed with everything but that they had to leave suddenly and sent their best wishes. He was very pleased."

"It's not quite a lie."

"It's a version of the truth at least."

She nodded. "Good story."

"Thank you." I added a slight bow, which is not easy to do while sitting.

"Point for the future though," she noted as she stood. "Avoid telling your girlfriend stories that have a cute girl on your lap for most of the story." She strode away.

Oh dear, I am in trouble, aren't I?


-Fin-

18 December 2008

'The Time I met the Doctor' - part 4

I would like to note here, as I did then, that I was not terribly fond of this plan. It is not as if I have never made a fool of myself in public before, the time I danced in my underwear at that party springs to mind, but that was brought along by drink, so it doesn't really count. The point I'm striving to make is that, in the past, when I've made a fool of myself, it was most often intentional, in an attempt to amuse others. This time I was being told to go out and, essentially, just look stupid. The plan was that Llan and I would go to the cafeteria, where there was always someone sitting around, and be seen. As Erik seemed to wish me humiliated, this should draw him out. When he was drawn out, the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria would sneak into his room and retrieve Llan's equipment, shutting off the items that kept us wet and together. The problem with this is that I was likely to actually get humiliated and even wetter, due to the leaving of the umbrella behind, before the Doctor could put an end to things. Still, I could develop no better plan, so I went along with him.

I ended up carrying Llan to the cafeteria. Originally she was going to walk alongside me, but we couldn't unlock her hands from their casual hug around my neck, and she was too short to walk and not choke me, so I carried her. Luckily, she was not heavy. This did not make me feel much better. Carrying her made us look far too casual, which only served to boost Erik's success.

I did my best not to look at anyone upon entering the cafeteria, and strode purposefully towards a table near the windows where I would be painfully visible. I heard whispers flare up around me soon enough, and I flushed. I was tempted to turn and leave, but the damage was already done, and I continued on. I sat, Llan arranged herself so that she was more comfortable, as well as polite, on my lap and there we stayed.

I was unable to look at anyone. Luckily the rain that still fell on us helped blur my vision somewhat, so none of the stares coming in towards me were particularly strong. "So," I said to my companion, unable to stand the silence any further, "how did you get mixed up with Erik?"

"He was a friend of a friend," she noted. "He seemed nice enough at first and stupidly I showed him some of my stuff, just some of the basic game like stuff. Unfortunately he figured out where I was keeping most of it and caught me off guard this morning with a paralysis beam he'd 'borrowed' from me. I'm thinking he activated the rain and 'stuck on you' device because those were the two he knew how to operate the best. It could have been worse."

"How?"

"Well, he could have . . ."

"Never mind. I really don't want to know afterall."

"Aha!" Ah, Akaru's arrived. "So finally we find you again, after all this time. You two could not remain a hidden secret for long!"

Llan looked at me. "'Hidden secret'?" she echoed.

I shook my head tiredly. "He's always trying to sound dramatic. He's very bad at it."

"Why do you waste time Akaru?" Kenshiro's with him, Chojuro as well I think, but it’s hard to tell through all this rain. "Ready your camera and take the pictures." I sighed.


Later it was explained to me that the Doctor, Jamie, and Victoria watched Erik's room (directions to which had been supplied by myself) and had seen Akaru, Kenshiro, and Chojuro exit. "Only three left," Jamie noted.

"So Erik is likely still inside," the Doctor mused.

"Toshiro might still be in there as well," Victoria observed.

"Yes," the Doctor answered, drawing the word out as if it had more than one syllable. "Still, that betters the odds a bit, doesn't it?"

"Aye," Jamie expressed. "And it may be that neither of them were in there to begin with."

"Exactly," the Doctor said enthusiastically. "We have to give it a try, don't we?" He led them out of the side passage they were hiding down and they creept up to Erik's door. They glanced around. No one was there. The Doctor was about to try the knob, to see if the door was locked, when the door was suddenly flung open. Toshiro stood in the doorway, looking at them in one of his more severe ways. "Please, come in. Erik has been expecting you."


The camera flashed repeatedly and my heart continued to drop. Part of me argued that I should be pleased. I was getting my picture taken with a cute girl on my lap. Sure we were both soaking wet, but I was sure to have friends that would be impressed with the cuteness of the girl, wasn't I? Still, it didn't seem right and it just wasn't like me to have a girl, cute or not, on my lap in public, so my cheeks burned with shame. "Nothing personal," I noted to Llan, "but I'm really not enjoying this."

"I'm just glad I didn't wear that white shirt like I'd considered this morning. That would have been really embarrassing."

I couldn't help it. It wasn't all that funny, but considering the tension, I found it amusing and chuckled. She laughed a bit, presumably because I was, and then we started giggling uncontrollably.

"Aha!" I heard through our mirth. "They're not supposed to be enjoying themselves, are they?" Needless to say, that didn't sober us up any. We continued our laughing.


Erik had, at some point, tapped into the school security system and therefore had seen Llan and myself in the cafeteria to disperse the troops to that pictures of us, but had also seen the Doctor and friends hiding around the corner. He chortled his glee at how things were working when Toshiro brought them before him. "Your assistance has meant nothing. I have been ahead of you every step of the way. There is no way to stop me now."

"But why would you do such a silly thing? Especially to someone who was your friend?" Victoria questioned.

"'Was' my friend, past tense, as you observed. Patrick might be smart, but I am brilliant! He had the audacity to not only try to correct me at times, but to have a beautiful girlfriend he was not worthy of."

"But you are worthy of her?" the Doctor checked.

"Of course I am! My brilliance will led me places, make me wealthy and allow me to give Heather the life she deserves to live. Patrick is a nobody content to stay in this little town his whole life. Heather deserves better. I shall not be defeated in my quest!"

Calmly, Jamie pointed out "If that's the case, how come you've not defeated Patrick and won yur lady before hand?"

Erik flushed with anger. "Toshiro, slap him."

Toshiro walked up to Jamie. Toshiro looked very calm while Jamie's eyes burned. "I should nay try it," he muttered. Toshiro swung his hand at Jamie, intentionally just missing him by centimetres, slapping his hand against his other hand quickly to make the appropriate noise. He stepped back. Erik looked pleased. "Very good." He'd obviously not been able to see through Toshiro's skill. Jamie was moderately confused, but pleased. He didn't want to have to hit Toshiro, but if he'd been slapped, he would have had to do so.

Erik gestured grandly towards a screen, displaying the happenings in the cafeteria. "As you can see, proof is being obtained that Patrick is a silly, infantile, loose mannered man."

"As well as wet," the Doctor noted calmly.

Erik slowed briefly. "Yes, wet, well the wet symbolizes . . it, it symbolizes . ."

"It doesn't symbolize anything, does it?" Victoria challenged. "It's not even that good a plan. How is this supposed to prove anything to the girl you like?"

Erik continued to falter. "Well, it proves he's loose mannered, as I said. . ."

Jamie frowned in genuine confusion. "Hey, didn't Patrick say he and this lass had already broken up?"

"Well, yes they did, over a month ago," Erik replied, his confidence fading.

"Do they show any signs of getting back together?" Victoria demanded. While all this was going on, the Doctor was slowly doing his best to sneak towards the machines that were on, especially those he'd already decided were the rain machine and the 'stuck on you' device.

"Not really, but I can't monitor all their calls . . ."

"So, you're trying to break up too people who've already broken up?"

"Well . . ."

"Sounds like a waste of time ta me."

"Alright, enough of this!" Erik bellowed, his face crinkled with rage. The Doctor stopped in his tracks, nowhere near close enough to shut anything down. "Patrick is my nemesis! It is my duty to make him look stupid and ignorant whenever I can. That's what I do; I am brilliant, I will have Heather to be mine, and I have to defeat Patrick and make him look foolish. This will make him look foolish. Therefore I am winning, okay? Do you get that much?"

"How does it . . .?" Jamie began.

Erik whipped out a small box shaped device with a conical shaped projector, the cone of which he pointed at the trio. "Okay, that's enough, you all get frozen."


The laughing stopped them and confused them. If I was laughing, I was enjoying myself, and if I was enjoying myself, was I embarrassed? What to do? Actually, I heard Akaru ask that "What to do?", which only caused me to snicker more.

"You still have film?" Kenshiro asked.

"Yes."

"Then keep taking pictures I guess."

17 December 2008

'The Time I met the Doctor' - part 3

The Doctor briskly hopped about the laboratory, twiddling knobs on equipment, adjusting dials, and basically looking very important. I sat in one of those rock-like school chairs, trying to be comfortable, while continuing to get soaked to the bone. My new companion still had her arms wrapped around me and had curled up in my lap. I felt rather ridiculous. As you know, I'm not a particularly touchy-feely sort of person, tending to keep my hands to myself, particularly when in public. Even previous to this, when engaged to Heather and in public, I tended to be polite, only occasionally holding hands or wrapping the arm around the midsection of my lady fair. To have a young lady, even worse a young lady I didn't know from Eve, someone who I didn't even have a name for at yet, wrapped around me made me uncomfortable and embarrassed. In a chemical, hormonal sort of way it felt nice, but otherwise I wasn't for it. I was of the opinion that this embarrassment was part of Erik's plan.

The Doctor bounded my way and climbed up onto the table next to me. With a jar in hand, he scooped some of the cloud away from over me, quickly slamming a lid on the jar to contain the vapor. "Hmm, now that is quite curious indeed," he muttered, his voice deep and rumbling.

I turned to look up at him, caught a large raindrop in the eye, and gave up on trying to look at him. "What is?" I asked while trying to blink away the rain in my eye.

He clambered down from the table and showed me the jar. It was difficult to see what he was trying to show me through the rain. "It's empty," he noted when it became obvious I was unable to get the point on my own.

I shrugged my shoulders. "The vapor condensed then, so?"

"You misunderstand me. I collected a section of cloud within the jar. I saw it trapped by the glass. Now, there's nothing: no cloud, no trace of cloud, no condensation, no visible moisture. I don't know where the cloud went, but it's not in the jar."

I blinked, in part due to surprise and in part due to the fact that I kept getting water in my eyes. "That's not possible, is it?"

"It's happened, so it's possible. How it's possible, I'm not sure as of yet."

The doors to the laboratory bang open allowing for the return of Jamie and Victoria to our group. They have Mr. Kirby's umbrella. Jamie looks a bit disarranged. "What do I get the impression we've missed out on something?"

The Doctor looked concerned. "Are you alright Jamie?"

"Aye, I'm fine," he commented. "Here's yur umbrella."

"Ta very much," I answered. "Didn't have to go through that much to get it, did you?"

"We were met by some men," Victoria noted. Between her and Jamie, I think I got the gist of what happened. Their stories contradicted each other now and then, and there were a few bits I added from knowing the individuals involved, but together we made a certain sense of things.


Kenshiro, it seemed, had gone to collect some of Erik's other friends. He collected gentlemen who we managed to identify as Akaru (short dark hair, glasses, says 'Aha!' a lot, even when inappropriate), Chojuro (dyed blonde hair cut oddly short, but only cut on one side), and Toshiro (a very intense looking young man with his hair pulled into a ceremonial ponytail, we were friends at one point). These four intercepted Jamie and Victoria on their way back to the laboratory, at a point in this process where they were lost. Kenshiro pointed at them dramatically. "You two! Take your friend and leave Thompson alone. Do not mingle yourselves in other people's business."

Victoria, bless her heart, stuck up for me. "It is our business," she insisted. "Patrick's our friend and we want to help him."

"Aye," Jamie added as punctuation.

"Aha!" Akaru cried. "Then they should incur the same penalties as Thompson, should they not?"

Toshiro shook his head tiredly. "You two sound like a badly dubbed movie. Can't you talk normally?"

"Worry not about our speech," Kenshiro exclaimed. "Just get them!" And then they moved in.

Jamie handed the umbrella to Victoria for safekeeping or as a potential weapon if the need arose. "If ye want a fight, I'll give it to ye," he noted, hunching slightly to provide less of a target. "Creig an tuire!" He quickly learned something I already knew: most of these guys didn't know how to fight. Kenshiro ran at Jamie, yelling some weird war cry, and Jamie just dodged him, bopping him on the head as Kenshiro went past. Akaru tried a martial arts pose, hoping to look cool, but when he swung at Jamie, his hand was grabbed and swung into an arm bar. Jamie switched it to a headlock and used Akaru's immobility to punch him in the stomach. Akaru fell down moaning.

Chojuro looked at Toshiro. They were to grab Victoria, but their comrades' inability to deal with Jamie made this plan unviable. Toshiro nodded towards Jamie. "Feel free to deal with him." Chojuro, not a man of many words, nodded and moved in.

Victoria did her best to look tough, but started to crumb under Toshiro's intense gaze. "I've got an umbrella," she noted, trying to keep her voice level and failing at that as well, "and I'm not afraid to use it."

Toshiro's gaze softened ever so slightly. "Do not worry. I will not attack a woman. Erik may have me doing his dirty work for him, but I will not go against my sense of honour." This puzzled Victoria, but as it made him no threat, she relaxed.

Chojuro was a better fighter than his two friends, but not by much. Jamie on the other hand had been fighting for most of his life, easily dodged the clumsy attacks directed his way, and headbutted Chojuro down. This left Toshiro. Jamie looked at Toshiro, ready to defend himself. Toshiro merely looked at him. Their gazes intertwined. Toshiro broke the moment. "Take the umbrella to Patrick. I have no reason to stop you."

"Then why were you with them?" Victoria questioned.

"It is a complicated story and not one I would tell a stranger. Take the umbrella and go. I will deal with these three." They left Toshiro standing over the three pained men.


"Then we came back here."

I had the umbrella up and it was accomplishing its task of keeping my new friend and myself dry. "Good old Toshiro!" I exclaimed. "Somehow I knew he didn't want to join up with Erik. I wonder what Erik has on him?"

"A question for another time perhaps," the Doctor noted. "I'm still wondering about this young lady and the cloud she seems to have brought us." He squatted down in front of us and looked at the young lady sitting on my lap. She looked back at him. This gave me a good chance to see the curiosity and kindness on his face. It was an old, grooved face, but it was also soft and gentle, the kind of face you would want in a favourite uncle. It was a silly face, one prone to displaying an amusing amount of emotion at times, but confidence building at the same time. He would be able to help me. His face elongated in surprise. "How very interesting," he mumbled, his voice deep and rumbling. He reached out a hand and brushed aside some of her hair. Her ears are pointed. Of course, the hair colouring should have told me, or at least hinted to me. "She's a Na'Dar," I burbled.

"Oh really?" the Doctor rumbled. "And who would they be?"

"I didn't think it was that much of a secret. They arrived in the nineteen fifties and made peace with the countries of Earth. We export some of our excess food to them and they traded us knowledge and some metals. I'm surprised you haven't heard of them, you look like the sort of chap who would know all about this sort of thing."

"That's true," Jamie noted.

"Yes," the Doctor replied, dragging the word out, his mind obviously elsewhere. "Mind if I have a chat with my friends for a moment?"

"Go right ahead." They stepped over to the other side of the room and began chatting amongst themselves. I hope it's nothing serious. This girl being a Na'Dar explains quite a lot, especially her not speaking an Earth language. Pity I don't know more of their language apart from 'hello', 'goodbye', and 'idiot'. Still, it's a start. I tell her hello in her language. Her head whips around so that she can look at me, surprise evident on her face. She says something back to me, but I don't have a clue what it was. "Sorry, I don't know much more," I say pathetically. She shrugs her shoulders and relaxes again.

The Doctor and his friends return to my side of the room. "Now then, back to your problem." He smiles widely and claps his hands together. "Are you sure she's a Na'Dar?"

"She responded just now when I said hello to her."

"Well that's a good sign."

"I'm guessing she's lost her translation unit. Either that or Erik took it from her."

"I'm guessing he took it," Jamie said. "He sounds like the sort of guy who would."

"So that gives us two choices," the Doctor noted. "Either we can try to retrieve the unit from this Erik person or . . ."

"Or?" Victoria prompted.

"I learn the language of the Na'Dar very quickly." He pulled up a chair and sat in front of me. "Say hello or something to her again. Get her to talk."

"If you like." I say hello again. She looks at me again, less quickly this time, and says something, sounding mildly cranky this time. I could be imagining that, but somehow I don't think I am. To be polite, I point to myself and say 'idiot'. She nods her head and says something else. At least she agreed with me.

Slowly, the Doctor repeats a line that she'd said. She looks at him hopefully and starts talking. This is fascinating. She'll rattle something off and then he'll carefully reply, in a minimum of words. I've no idea if he's actually making sense to her, but the words sound right and she keeps talking so he must be saying something. A few moments ago, the Doctor didn't even know she was an alien or that her race existed. Now he's learning her language. Fascinating. He's starting to smile and his sentences are getting longer. He must be getting the hang of it.

He exhales noisily and sits back. "Well, you were right Jamie. Erik took her translation unit from her." Jamie immediately goes into a smug mode. "She doesn't know all of what was going on, but she knows he linked her weather machine to trace her and has stuck her on you Patrick, apparently to embarrass you."

"Stuck her on me?" I echo. "Care to define that further?"

"It has something to do with another of her machines. Apparently Na'Dar technology far exceeds human technology, or even what they've given you. He got ahold of some machine that makes her become physically attached to you."

"Yeah, and I'm not particularly thrilled about being stuck on his lap either." I blink. I could swear I understood her that time. Jamie and Victoria have surprised looks on their faces as well, so it's not just me then.

At this point in time, I wanted very badly to say something clever or cutting. However, sometimes surprise overwhelms our best intentions and we default to whatever becomes easiest to do or say. I defaulted to a surprised "My word!" which sounded neither clever nor cutting.

She gave me another surprised look. "A minute ago you could only say 'hello' and 'idiot', which I thought was very appropriate under the circumstances. When did you get verbose?"

"Probably around the same time you did," I retorted. I looked at the Doctor. "What happened?"

"If I explained it, neither of you would understand."

"Try me," exclaimed the girl using me as a chair.

"Perhaps later," he said soothingly.

"Oh no," she noted vigorously. "I've had a particularly crummy day, I'm wet, I'm uncomfortable, and I'm not in a particularly good mood. I am not interested in waiting until later. I want to know why all of a sudden how the wonder idiot I'm stuck to managed to start speaking my home language!"

Jamie stepped forward, a firm, determined look on his face. "There's no need to be yelling at the Doctor. If he says he'll explain later, he will and he's got a good reason to keep it until later."

Victoria gave him a disappointed look. "Jamie," she said, a chastising tone in her voice.

"Well, yon lassie's not got any manners," he grumbled, and stepped back.

The Doctor cleared his throat, only as loudly as he needed to regain everyone's attention. "As I see it right now, we have three tasks to complete. First is stopping this rainfall. Second is separating you two. Third is regaining the equipment Erik took from you."

"Sounds about right," I noted.

"We can help you do this."

"Would ya?" the girl asked, sarcasm dripping from every brief syllable. "Gee that would be swell."

I nudged her in the ribs. "Hush, he's offering help. Be nice."

"I don't have to be nice if I don't want to."

"Do it anyway."

"Jamie, Victoria and I will leave you two over here while we go have a think."

"Don't leave me here alone with him."

"I want to help think too."

"We can't move you. Currently you're located over the main drain in the room. If we keep moving you around, you'll get the whole room messy. We won't be far if you need us." That said, he escaped to the other side of the laboratory which, considering the size of the room, was far enough to get some peace and quiet from our bickering, which is what I considered to be the real reason for their movement.

I gave the alien girl a Look, and she returned it. I extended a hand. "Patrick Thompson."

Still looking at me crossly, she shook my hand. "Llan Guine." Well, at least I had a name for her now.

There was an awkward silence while I tried to think of something to say and she fumed. Finally I blurted out "Am I really all that awful to be attached to?"

She looked at me for a moment before answering. "I don't know. Mostly it's the principal of the thing that bothers me. I don't like being attached to anyone, much less a human, much less a human I don't even know, much less a human I don't even know that's not all that cute."

"Thanks for the ego boost."

"I'm just being honest," she insisted. "I don't find you all that attractive. For all I know, the Earth girls are all over you, but you don't interest me."

"Fair enough. I can understand the concept."

"With that in mind and considering the crummy day I've had, I'm understandably cranky. I mean, I had better things to do today than sit on your lap."

"I had plans that didn't involve being stuck with a cute girl on my lap as well. Then again, had someone offered that as a potential plan this morning, I don't think I would have turned it down either."

She grins slightly. "You think I'm cute?"

"If we're going to continue being honest, then yes, I think you are very cute."

"You're not so bad after all. At least you've got good taste."

The Doctor suddenly slipped up next to us. "Sorry to interrupt, but do you know if the laboratory has a multi phase vibro cleanser?"

"It doesn't sound familiar."

"I've got a modifiable single phase vibro cleanser," Llan noted. "Well, Erik took it from me, so I suppose 'had' is the proper term."

"I see."

"Is one of those necessary to the plan you're concocting?"

"Hmm? Oh no, not at all. I was just . . . adjusting a section of circuitry from some of my equipment while I thought about what do to and I realized I required a multi phase vibro cleanser to continue." A very incredibly innocent look overwhelmed the Doctor's expression. "Is there any chance that I could use your cleanser if we can recover it?"

Llan's crankiness continued to fade as I watched her. I think she'd just gotten tired of being so ornery. Then again, it could have something to do with the Doctor. He is moderately amusing to watch. "Sure, why not?"

Enthusiastically, the Doctor clapped his hands together. "Excellent, now then. Are you ready to hear my idea?"

"Certainly."

"Apparently Erik's plan is to make Patrick look foolish, correct?"

"Seems like it."

"Then I say we give him what he wants."

16 December 2008

'The Time I met the Doctor' - part 2

It was still raining, and hard at that. I rotated my cup, swirling my remaining coffee around a bit before having a drink. Coffee has a strange effect on me. Sometimes, it makes me all hyper, other times it relaxes me. Currently, I find it to be quite relaxing. So here I sit, sipping at coffee, watching it rain, and occasionally chatting with the rest of the group at the table.

Victoria, as I expected from her, is a very polite eater. She sips at her tea carefully, quietly. When she bites at her sandwich, she doesn't bite off much, but what she takes in gets chewed thoroughly. She does not speak with her mouth full and daintily dabs at her mouth with her napkin if she suspects crumbs. She's very, well, feminine I suppose, moreso than I've ever seen before. She's very mannered and I'm not used to that.

The Doctor doesn't eat much and does so absentmindedly. He looks around a lot, taking in everything around him, his eyes wandering here and there, but not in a lecherous searching for women sort of way. It's as if he's trying to observe everything around him in order to understand something that he's not sure is there yet. Eating is something secondary. If something comes loose from his sandwich and falls onto his black coat or checked pants, I don't believe he'd notice.

Jamie is stuffing his face. He's crude but not totally so. He doesn't spit crumbs across the table or grab stuff from other people's plates or anything like that, but he is taking full advantage of the fact that this meal is free, a concept I have no problem with at all. He's mentioned a few times during the course of the meal how nice it is to have 'real' food for a change. It doesn't seem like he'd be on any special diet or anything. Perhaps they travel on a budget and often have limited meals, so he's taking advantage of this free one to fill up on items he rarely gets to have. Seems likely. I wonder why he'd never had pizza before then. That's a good cheap food. If they were on a budget, I'd think they'd eat pizza often. Perhaps it's a cultural thing. Being American, I'd eat pizza as cheap food, maybe they'd have something else. Still, he didn't even recognize the stuff. I'm sure they have pizza in Britain, so it seems odd.

"That cloud looks unusual," the Doctor notes. His face then drops, he picks up a napkin and cleans up a bit of something that he obviously thought had been swallowed from the table.

"Which one?" I query, returning my attention to the sight outside the window again.

"That one up there." He gestures upward. I frown but look up anyway. What's he talking about? "Oh my goodness, that shouldn't be there." This thin hazy cloud seems to be forming up near the cafeteria ceiling.

"That much I had guessed. I didn't believe indoor precipitation to be normal around here. Then again, I've seen more unusual things."

All the same, where could that be coming from? "Maybe the air conditioning is turned on too high and the heat from the kitchen is causing some fog to form?"

"Perhaps." He doesn't sound convinced. That's fine as I don't think much of my logic either. Still, it was better than nothing.

Jamie leans back in his chair, looking quite content. "Oof, Ah think Ah've had enough."

Victoria gives him something of a look. "I should hope so James Robert McCrimmon. You made quite the pig of yourself given a free meal."

"Worry ye not. Had I been hungrier I should have been sorely tempted to join him in his feasting. A free meal is a free meal." I dragged myself up out of the chair. "Now that we've fed, shall we start our tour?"

The Doctor bounced eagerly out of his chair. "Yes, that sounds like rather a good idea."

"Is there any particular area that you're interested in?"

"You have laboratories, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Those."

Imagine that.


We wandered around the halls, past a number of classrooms, into a few empty lecture halls, past the music room (but not into due to band practice), hither and yon, heading for the laboratories. Once I got going and relaxed, I was chatty, remembering interesting stories to tell regarding some of the room or teachers we'd seen. Hopefully I was interesting. The Doctor grew more and more energetic as we neared the laboratories. I think he could sense their nearness somehow. It was about then that Jamie piped up with the information that "Hey, we're being followed ya know."

"Really?" I was surprised. I couldn't see any reason why anyone would follow us. I turned around to see who it was. In retrospect it was a stupid thing to do, but at the time it seemed quite logical. Standing in the middle of the hallway, peacefully watching us was this pretty, vaguely oriental looking young lady with long hair that was tinted blue. I smiled, doing my best to look reassuring and non-threatening. "Can I help you?"

Hearing me speak seemed to do something to her. She stepped forward hesitantly and then continued to walk towards us haltingly, as if fighting the motion. Jamie tensed next to me as she grew near, as if he was preparing to fight if she attacked. She didn't. Silently, she walked up to me and stood before me for a moment, looking up into my face curiously. I smiled back, but I was getting a bit nervous and confused, which was probably transmitted to my expression. She really was very cute, not pretty, as I originally thought, not attractive, but cute. "Hullo," I said, looking for some sort of response, something to continue this on. She said something in a language I didn't understand but assumed was Japanese and wrapped her arms around me tightly, nestling her head into my chest. It felt nice in a way.

The Doctor gave me an airily curious look. "Friend of yours?"

"I've never seen her before," I stammered. The next thing I knew, I was getting wet. I looked up and saw that it was raining on me. A small cloud hovered over my head, dumping rain on me. I sighed. This day was getting far too strange. Then I heard the laughing. I peered through the rain and saw a familiar figure run away laughing. "Kenshiro!" Things started to make a certain sense suddenly.

"Who's Kenshiro?" Victoria asked.

"He's one of Erik's friends."

"Well," Jamie queried, "who's this Erik then?"

So I explained Erik to them, as I will to you now.


Erik was my nemesis. Sounds silly doesn't it? Perfectly hard working super heroes in this world wishing for a good nemesis and me, a peaceful college student who'd just as soon not have a nemesis or enemy has one. I'd like to think the term nemesis leans towards hyperbole, except the fact that he often concocted schemes to try to humiliate or discredit me and, one more than one occasion, referred to me as 'my nemesis' when he was talking to me.

Of course the next question is probably: why? If he was my nemesis, was there a reason behind him feeling this? Yes. He was fond of my former girlfriend/fiancée Heather, very fond. For a time he tried to break us up. When that didn't work, he grudgingly stopped the attacks, apparently viewing me as a worthy adversary who had won the right to be with this beautiful woman and, as such, I was not allowed to screw it up. Needless to say, when word reached him that Heather was available and that she and I were no more, he went insane all over again. For messing up my beautiful relationship, I was to be tormented further. Oddly enough, he never did try to win Heather's favour, well, he never asked her out as far as I know. It could well be that his renewed attacks upon me were an attempt to win her favour and when one of these was deemed successful he would have been worthy enough to date her. On this point I am not sure. Oddly enough, nemesises (nemesii?) don't always explain all their motives to you, despite the fact that movies and television teach otherwise. Still, I believe my theory sound here and am sticking to it.

So, when I saw Kenshiro, Kenshiro being one of Erik's friends (Actually, despite his name, Erik was of Oriental decent as well. His real name was one of those long complicated ones that most people mispronounce horribly upon seeing so he changed it to Erik instead, as no one mispronounced that. When we first met, I saw his real name and was close in my pronunciation, a fact which impressed him, but it's been a long time since that and I can't remember enough of it to reproduce it even closely now), I knew that Erik had started another of his plots. In some way, this young lady and the rain were from Erik.


"Still, why should it be raining on you?" Victoria questioned.

"More interestingly, how have they managed to make it rain on Patrick?" mused the Doctor. "Does his personal rain have anything to do with the rain outside? What does this young lady have to do with it, if anything?"

Her head still buried in my chest, she murmured a few words that I still didn't understand. "If I spoke Japanese we might have something of a hint. She does seem to be trying to tell me something."

The Doctor was still puzzling over the matter, his fingers intertwined, his gaze on me, yet not. "It's not Japanese," he noted casually, "I can speak Japanese and whatever she's speaking it's not Japanese."

I found this discouraging. I had rather hoped that we could find a translation book and be on the road to solving this latest caper. "Chinese?" I asked hopefully.

"It's not that either."

"How about . . ."

He intercepted my next guess. "It's not an Earth language as far as I can tell."

My heart sank despite the comforting cuddle of the strange young lady holding me. Not an Earth language? That would certainly reduce the possible number of people who could speak the language, wouldn't it? I sneezed, the rain already giving me chills, and apologized to the young lady for almost sneezing on her head. I couldn't understand her and, I realized suddenly, had no way to tell if she could understand me.

The Doctor snapped from his immobility, suddenly clapping his hands together loudly and smiling widely. "Nevermind that. I may pick it up as she goes along. I'd rather like to investigate the cloud you've accumulated. Is one of these laboratories available for use?"

"I'll find out. There should be something for you."

"Excellent, excellent," he said, rubbing his hands together furiously. "Now then," he started, turning towards Jamie and Victoria, "can you two find your way back to the Dean's office and collect the umbrella he had earlier?"

"Aye," Jamie replied.

"It's bad luck to open an umbrella indoors," Victoria noted, quickly surmising the reason he wanted it collected.

"I'll take that chance," I noted. "I prefer a bit more bad luck to pneumonia."

15 December 2008

'The Time I met the Doctor' - part 1

"Did I ever tell you of the time I met the Doctor?"

My young lady friend repositions herself on the couch next to me, tossing her long red hair behind her before asking, "Doctor Who?"

I grin instinctively. "Ah, the eternal question." She punches me lightly on the shoulder in something of a 'you know what I mean get on with it' sort of way. "From what I was told it was just 'the Doctor'."

"Something of the definite article then?"

"Apparently."

"I've heard stranger names. Anyway, no, I don't believe you have told me this story."

"Shall I?"

"Please do."

"Right then. Cast your mind back to a time before we'd met, back when I was still in college about three or four years ago. I am younger, my hair is longer and slightly more plentiful. It's not all that long after the crumbling of my relationship with Heather, so my attitude towards the fairer sex is not always that fair and is a notch more hormonal than now."

"Is this frightening picture you paint germane to the story I'm about to hear?"

"Could be. Or I could be setting the mood. Wait and hear."


It was a particularly rainy day in the autumn of the year. By that point in the school year, it being my final year of college, I had already given up on attending classes and lectures properly. This was, I feel, due to two primary reasons. One was the aforementioned break up with Heather, which damaged me mentally and emotionally for the longest time, and the other was my general lack of enthusiasm for more schooling. I had never been all that fond of school based learning and by this point I was incredibly tired of the whole routine and decided it was time to relax a bit. Luckily for me, I was good friends with Mr. Kirby, the older gentleman that ran the computer system at the college. He knew of what I was capable, he had an idea where my knowledge extended, and had trained me enough on what we had that I could pick up the rest. I became his unofficial helper, and then official helper, and later, after he retired, I would replace nearly everything we had in a massive upgrade and be hired as his replacement, which is where I am now. At this point, I had just become his official helper and would take over his duties when he needed a nap or had to attend some meeting or another. I was supposed to be in a journalism class at the time, but instead I was in the computer room, watching the rain pour down while Mr. Kirby had a mid morning nap. The building was mostly empty as few people were venturing out into the rain to get to us. We were located in the same building as the library and were separate from all the classrooms and lecture halls and the like. Therefore, unless someone had some special need to come to us, they weren't braving the storm to reach us.

It was for these reasons that I took special notice of the young lady running towards the building, soaked to the bone. She seemed to be running towards the building less because she needed access to the library or computer system, but more because she required getting out of the rain and we were the first opportunity she had for shelter. I also noted her long skirt only because I so infrequently saw women wear such items when they didn't have to and I thought it made her look rather dressy, if wet. I managed to beat her to the doors and held one open for her. "Oh thank you," she enthused in a very proper sounding English accent, "I got caught out in this storm and got my directions all mixed up and now I'm dripping all over your lobby. I am sorry."

"Minor detail," I informed. "Come in and dry off. I'm not sure if I can get you any towels or anything, but I should be able to get you some coffee to help warm you up. Might keep you from catching cold."

She smiled, warmly and innocently. "You are most kind."

"I try. If you'd come this way, Miss..." I allowed the sentence to trail off inquisitively.

"Waterfield. Victoria Waterfield."

"My name's Thompson, but, please, call me Patrick. I hear 'Mr. Thompson' and I think my father's around."

"In that case, I suppose you'd better call me Victoria then."

"Fair enough. The office is over here." I gave her somewhere to sit and collected a coffee from the machine. She sipped at it and her pretty face twisted slightly at the taste. "It's machine coffee. It's not good, but it's hot."

"It feels good, even if it doesn't taste good. Thanks."

I nodded rather than politely dismiss her thanks again. Despite her sodden state, she was quite pretty. I'm not the best judge of age, but she appeared to be a bit older than I was, in a loose bracket between mid twenties and mid thirties. "Can I ask what brings you here today? I'm going to take a guess and believe you're not from around here originally."

"No, I'm traveling with a pair of friends. We just sort of arrived here."

"On your way to somewhere else?"

"At the moment we don't have a particular destination in mind, we're just traveling."

"I'm sure you see all sorts of interesting things that way."

"Sometimes more than I wish to do. I'd stopped traveling with them for a while and just recently started again. It's familiar and not at the same time."

"I understand the concept you're trying to get across." The phone rang. I excused myself and answered it politely. It was the Dean of the college, Dean Cuthbold. "Thompson," he began once noting it was me speaking to him, "do you have a young woman there with you?"

"I'm only giving her shelter from the rain, I've done nothing wrong." I've had some minor issues with Cuthbold, it's safest to announce innocence straight away.

"No, that's not what I meant. We're looking for a young woman and I was wondering if she may have headed your way."

"A pretty English one?"

"That fits the description given me."

"That's the one. Shall I bring her to you?"

"Please do. Her friends are here waiting for her."

"We'll be right there then. Bye." I hung up. "We're going to need to find something to keep the rain off."

She blinked innocently. "Why?"

"Your friends are looking for you and I can take you to where they are."

"Oh that would be most welcome. It's not that you're bad company, but I do worry about them."

"If you need something to keep the rain off, you can borrow my umbrella." Mr. Kirby had awakened and heard all. He's a man of medium height with a stocky build, dark hair slowly going gray and a sturdy face with lots of character. An unlit pipe sits clamped in his mouth. He doesn't smoke it much, but he finds it comforting to have it around. "I'm not going anywhere for a while so you might as well use it." We thanked him and left. I'm sure he sat down in the chair I'd been in and was back asleep within a minute.


We hurried through the pouring rain, making our way towards the main building. I admit I enjoyed the trip primarily because the umbrella only allowed for so much room for us to be, meaning Victoria had to be somewhat close to me. I liked the proximity, but remained a gentleman and did not try to take advantage of the situation.

We dripped through the hallways to Dean Cuthbold's office. It's a big room, full of books he's never read and paintings he doesn't understand. To be fair, I don't understand the paintings either. My point is that Cuthbold is very into appearances. He likes to impress and is easily impressed. As you might remember, he is a very odd looking fellow with his buggy eyes hidden behind thick black framed glasses, a shiny bald head and sticky out ears. In some ways, he resembles an odd sort of wing nut or a lunatic Mr. Potato Head. Two men, presumably Victoria's friends, stood looking out the large picture window in the office, watching the rain. "Ah, good, you've arrived Thompson." He looked excited. I'd seen the look before; he'd been impressed. "And you've brought along Victrola."

"Victoria," my soggy companion correctly politely.

"Yes of course, so sorry." I am drawn away from Victoria so that I can be spoken to privately. "Her friend is a Doctor of sorts, very high up as far as things go."

"What sort of things?"

"Things." He gestures with his bushy eyebrows and I do my best to look like I understand, but I don't, and I don't particularly care what he means exactly anyway. "While it would be nice to have him stay, it seems unlikely given his nature to travel. Therefore, we must do our best to impress him, so that when he bumps into others of his circle he will speak highly of us and they will be better inclined to visit or want to work here."

"Okay," I say slowly, understanding the concepts he's communicating, but unclear why they're being communicated to me. "So, what do you want me to do about it?"

"I'm putting you in charge of showing them around and impressing them. I shall call Kirby after you leave and arraign you some free time from your duties in the computer area."

"Am I the best choice for this? I mean, I don't impress others all that well."

"Nonsense, you are very impressive. How do you think you've gotten your responsibilities? By impressing Kirby and myself. Besides, you've already met with Victreebel . . ."

"Victoria."

"Yes of course, Victoria. You've met Victoria, so you've already got a friend in the group to work on. That's a start."

"Still, I don't know sir."

"Let's put it like this then: it's an order that you escort them around and impress them with the school."

I sighed. He had that strangely determined look he gets when he's serious. "Yes sir."

"Good then, that's settled." He turned back to the trio, who had reunited whilst we'd talked. "Patrick here will give you a tour of the university and basically be as helpful as possible.

"That's most kind of him," noted the oldest member of the group. "Are you sure that won't interfere with anything you have to do?"

The question was directed to me, but Cuthbold was quick to answer for me. "It's not a problem, don't even worry about it. Just enjoy yourself and look around as much as possible. Have a good time. Here, have some vouchers for the cafeteria. Free lunch."

The eyes of the young man in the group lit up. "Lunch? Aye Doctor, that's no a bad idea there." He spoke with a gentle Scottish accent. As his friends both spoke with English accents, this made him stand out, as did the kilt he wore. One rarely sees men dressed in the Highland manner unless some festival or pageant is going on nearby, so it was a bit unusual for him to be dressed like that, but I still thought it was cool.

"Yes, alright Jamie, we'll go have lunch. It'll give Victoria a chance to dry off and warm up as well, shan't it? If Patrick would direct us to the cafeteria, we'll be off then."

"Certainly. Just follow me." We left the office and headed down the hallway. To be honest, I would have charged the meal to him anyway.

14 December 2008

Series 4 Reviews - completed!

'Turn Left'

This is all one big exploration of the explanation of parallel worlds that I did in 'Time for a Change', only busier, and rightfully so. For awhile I was about to play the 'oh come on' card but it turned out to be a clue rather than awkward writing so excellent!

I'd read that Billie Piper had some issues remembering how to play Rose Tyler. Apparently she thought the character sounded like Elmer Fudd or something. I swear she said 'time wode' instead of 'time lord' at one point. She was not ... great. Everything else was good build, and made me extra curious as to what was next.

'The Stolen Earth'

Wow. It's all about making the villains look big and bad. In wrestling it's part of the concept called 'selling'. If you make it look like something is really hurting you and people like you, they tend to be sympathetic to you and hate the mean man hurting you. When he cheats to be able to continue hurting you, it's an easy way to tell he is a Bad Person. In this episode, when a certain word reaches the ears of some of our rough-and-tumble heroes and they start crying from fear, kissing their loved ones goodbye and saying everyone will soon be dead, you know the speakers must be Very Bad.

And they are.

Nothing bad here really, apart from Rose coming across as a mopey version of Ace from the New Adventures. Continuity abounds. The subtle hints this year start to come together, even to the point of having another Hartnell reference! Even a possibly goofy thing works out as clever rather that goofy. Cliffhangers abound!

'Journey's End'

This is very clearly Russell T. Davies saying goodbye to the show, even though he'll be helping with the specials next year. For the most part this is all top notch, cleverly using pieces of the puzzle that have been lying in plain sight this whole time and showing how they all fit together, using things that could have been lazy 'get out of jail free' cards as plot points instead. At the end, he puts all the surviving players where they need to be for the next creative team.

But.

You saw the hesitation coming, didn't you? That all was not well? It's not that much that I went 'yuck' to but it's pretty heavy-duty stuff that receives the 'oh come on' card.

1 - Russell has now made me hate Rose. I was just starting to enjoy her visit and then it turns out she's nothing but a child emotionally. From referencing her run as companion and comparing it to here, it seems clear to me that she's a childish 'Princess' looking for an imaginary 'Prince' that only exists in her head. Martha came through the TARDIS and learned things, grew up a bit. Donna expands herself mentally. Rose did not. Worse yet, Russell apparently wants us to sympathize with her and expects us to be happy when he gives her what she wants, sort of. Thumbs down from me.

2 - The big 'putting things where they should be' moment made me flashback to one of the very early Doctor Who stories I wrote in high school, 'The Masterplan'. I consider it to one of the worst things I've ever written, perhaps THE worst thing. Somehow, this moment made a similar moment in my story not seem so bad. Russell, we should NOT be making 'The Masterplan' look good. Ever. Seriously.

3 - While they needed some extra time to put everybody back and get them settled, the extra length episode felt extra long. It's probably a good ten minutes too long.

With that vented, the closing shot of the episode I liked a lot.

One brief little observation about the fourth series: a subtle theme seemed to be the rebuilding of the Doctor's support system. For the past three series we've been hearing about what the Doctor has lost and what it's done to him: family, friends, enemies, home planet - all gone. In this series we saw what could be a new Matrix, new family, most of his friends collect to visit and, unfortunately perhaps, the return of more old enemies. Still no 'new' Gallifrey but one thing at a time, hmm?

Russell T. Davies. I've not agreed with everything you did and at times I felt your writing was more like fan fiction than my own but you brought the show back in so many ways beyond the literal. On the whole, it's been fantastic.

Thank you.

13 December 2008

Museum notes - European Village

This past Monday I went to the Milwaukee Public Museum yet again. Today we're going to talk briefly about the European Village.

The European Village is located on the first floor of the Museum. The exhibit is attached to the Streets of Old Milwaukee exhibit by a common hallway. While details in the exhibits have been updated over the years, the exhibits themselves have remained intact since my first visits to the Museum. The Third Planet (prehistoric area with the dinosaurs) and the Rain Forest exhibits that are across the hall came later and replaced existing exhibits. For that matter, the first floor used to hold the entryway to the Museum up until the remodel in the mid-90's. That's conversation for other days.

The European Village strives to show what the living quarters for immigrants from various European countries looked like, presumably as they arrived in Milwaukee in the 1800s-early 1900s. I've not seen a dating for the exhibit whereas the Streets of Old Milwaukee is set at the beginning of the 1900s, right at the turn of the century (the audiotour dates it as 1903, which would make sense but, since the audiotour is from 2003 and therefore offers a easy hundred years reflection, I'm not sure that was the original intent). Each room in the European Village shows decorations, foods, dress, etc from the culture in question. Each room is identified in the windows you peek through. Yes, the exhibit makes you a bit of a Peeping Tom.

The last couple times I've been, I've discussed a possible game to play in the Village: Find the Creepy Jesi (as I believe Jesi to be the plural of Jesus). Nearly all of the rooms have some sort of representation of Jesus on display and none of them look, well, comforting. They're either sad or in pain or dying. Apparently focusing on all the suffering Jesus did was popular at the time as opposed to considering the guidance he offered. While there are some creepy Jesi elsewhere in the Museum, they mostly hang out in the Village.

What we've yet to do is figure out the rules to this game, to determine if just any religious looking art in the Village counts or if there are specific details to look for in a Creepy Jesus. Then we'd have to document each one and count them so that others can play as well and that seems almost like work.

Hey! Who said 'Like you've got anything better to do?' Why I oughta...

12 December 2008

Grumble

It's been a weird week for me. I've been getting some progress on projects but it feels like I've gotten nothing done. I've considered a new relatively short-term goal, but am still debating the value of it. Perhaps worst yet, the possible reason why I feel nothing's been done, I've got a touch of writer's block. It's annoying.

Gotta break outta this rut. Maybe just write the scene that might be in my head even though it means starting something else. Too many open projects usually means no visible progress on any of them. No visible progress tends to mean nothing near completion. Starting things is easier than finishing them.

Grumble.

11 December 2008

I don't think I ever released this. Enjoy!

The automatic doors suctioned closed again, but not before allowing a cloud of freezing air into the emergency room and causing Rachel to shiver briefly. She hurried herself along to warm up again. It had been desperately cold the last few weeks, even for December, leading to a rush of frostbite cases, colds, flu, and other weather related issues. She was on her way to another frostbite case now: another residence-challenged person who was having difficulty feeling their extremities. Third one she’d seen today. The weather was deadly.

She heard the doors whoosh open behind her, a babble of excited voices accompanying the blast of frigid air. She glanced behind her and saw the gurney coming in time to flatten herself against the wall so that she wouldn’t be run down by it. A young blonde woman lie motionless on the gurney as the EMTs shoved the transport device towards the trauma room. Doctors and nurses scurried along with them, the EMTs passing along the woman’s status as they moved. Her legs had been pinned (under or against what?) and her left arm looked like it was bleeding. She was pale and quiet at the moment. Rachel watched as the gurney was pushed into the room and the medical personnel began work on her. Rachel shivered again, but not due to the cold. The young woman couldn’t be much older than she was, if she was older at all. It was a creepy thought.

Her friend Peter bounded up to her. He was handsome, his face and body were both thin, and he had large, warm, comforting brown eyes. “What happened to her?” Rachel asked after exchanging hellos.

Peter glanced in the direction of the trauma room briefly. “I’m not completely sure,” he responded, “I didn’t get the call in, I only heard about it now. From what I heard, a building collapsed on Third and Millcreek. She and her friend were in it at the time.”

“Friend?” Rachel echoed.

Peter grinned. “Didn’t I mention? You’ve got something else to do right now instead of unfreezing the homeless.” Politely he removed the chart from her grasp. “I get that joy.”

“Doctor Williams still mad at you?”

“How did you guess? Her buddy should be here any second. From the sound of it he’s not badly hurt. Gotta go.” He strode off.

“I tell you I can walk perfectly well,” growled an accented voice behind her. Turning she saw a young man being pushed in a wheelchair by an EMT.

Despite the EMT’s general air of politeness, Rachel could tell he was getting impatient with his charge. “Sir, your ankle was trapped when we found you. It’s just safer if you don’t walk yet.”

The odd young man in the chair stopped arguing and shook his head gently. “There’s no trust in this world anymore,” he muttered to no one in particular.

The EMT nodded Rachel’s way. “They said you’d be taking care of him.” Rachel nodded. The EMT smiled widely. “Then he’s all yours.” He left while he had the chance.

She steered him towards an open exam room and tried to remain cheery. “Just a slight ankle wound sir? Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s not a problem,” he noted crankily, his British sounding accent adding to his projected mood. “Where is Julie?”

“Who’s Julie?”

“My friend, they took her before me.”

“She’s in one of the trauma rooms being worked on.”

“Then I should be there.” He moved to get up.

Rachel stopped him. “If you burst in there and get loud, they’ll call security and they’ll put you in restraints. How does that sound?”

“Unpleasant.” He sighed and sat back in his mobile chair. “I’m sorry. It’s been rough these past few days and I’m worried about Julie.”

“I understand. Can I look at your ankle now?”

“If that’ll amuse you, go right ahead.”

Rachel unwrapped the bandage from his right ankle and carefully probed it with her fingers. “I don’t detect any damage,” she muttered.

“I did say I was uninjured, didn’t I?”

“Then why the bandage?”

“I never said I wasn’t injured at some point.” He stood up, walked around a little and then danced a little jig. “Do I pass?”

Rachel smiled. “I’ll even give you a flying color or two.”

“Most kind. If I won’t be allowed in by Julie, would it be possible for you to check on her for me.”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Will you?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Rachel stepped out of the room, glanced back to make sure he wasn’t following her, and walked down to the trauma room where Julie was being worked on. She watched through the windows in the doors for a moment before poking her head inside. “Her friend wants to know how she’s doing.”

The mostly bald doctor in charge of Julie’s care glanced up over his glasses at her. “She’s stable, in no immediate danger and should be just fine. Her right leg’s a bit weak, but no need to tell the friend that.”

“Thanks.” She started back but was interrupted by Doctor Williams enroute. She was a woman designed on small lines. While not unattractive, her general facial expressions made her look unappealing. She tended not to be a happy person. “The young man they brought in, how is he doing?”

“He’s alert, uninjured as far as I can tell.”

“Good. Start collecting some identification information for him and his friend.” She thrust an extra clipboard at Rachel and stalked away, her business complete. Rachel quickly stuck her tongue out at Doctor Williams retreating figure and returned to the exam room. Despite looking rather bored, the young man was still there. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at Rachel. “Everything’s going well. She should be fine.”

He smiled, genuinely relaxed. “That’s pleasant to hear.” He sank back on the bed and wrapped his tan trenchcoat tighter around himself.

“I need to ask you some questions for our files.”

“So be it.”

“Your name?”

“Doctor Patrick Peel.”

She wrote that down. “Address?”

“No fixed abode.” Rachel gave him a puzzled look. “My friend and I travel a great deal. Personally I don’t have a home as such. I suppose you could say I live out of my vehicle.” He smirked at this, which she thought was odd, but she wrote it in all the same. “If I can ask, what do you do on these travels? Are you a banker or something?”

“You can ask the question, but I can’t answer it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not allowed to do so.” She looked particularly puzzled at this, so he continued. “If memory serves, I’m only supposed to offer my name, rank, and serial number, only I don’t know that I have a rank and I’ve forgotten my serial number, so that doesn’t leave much else, does it?”

Her eyes widened in realization and he grinned back, satisfied that his hinting had accomplished it’s goal. They were spies or whatever spies were called in this post Cold War era. “Um, well, in that case, what’s your friend’s name then?”

“Steed. Juliana Steed.” He grinned, shifted uncomfortably for a moment, and then resumed grinning at his own personal joke. “Have one of your people call this number, and the rest will be taken care of.” He rattled off a 1-800 number that she transcribed dutifully. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Rachel. Doctor Rachel Parker.”

“A pleasure to meet you Rachel.” He shifted again and then sat up quickly. “What is back there?” He checked the bed, but whatever had been bothering him wasn’t there. “Is there something on my back?” he questioned.

She stepped closer. She was about to say ‘No’ when she saw something glint in the light. “Actually, I think so.” She peeled a tiny, round green item from the back of his coat and then handed it to him when he turned around. It was a half sphere of green that looked totally unimportant to her, but when he saw it, his face dropped noticeably. “Rachel, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we are all in grave danger right now.”

“From that?”

“It’s a tracking device. We’ve been followed.” He stared at the small round object for a moment before speaking again. “What do you have in the manner of security at this building?” A loud crash, followed by a loud nervous scream, turned their heads towards the door. “Ah, too late, they’re here.”

Rachel was struggling to wrap her head around these recent developments. “Who’s here?”

“Those who would do us harm,” he replied somewhat enigmatically. He paused again, briefly, and continued “I need to go, I have to lure them away from Julie.”

“They’d do something to her if they found her?”

“At the very least use her against me. If I offer myself as a target to be found, they may not look for her as readily. Hopefully they didn’t mark her like this as well.” He started to mutter to himself and Rachel barely caught what he was saying. “They must have done it when they captured me yesterday, that makes sense.” He removed his sock and shoe from a trenchcoat pocket and quickly began putting them on the foot he’d insisted wasn’t injured. “I must hurry.”

“I’m coming with you.” Rachel realized suddenly that she’d said those words and a thrill of excitement rushed through her. It had been a long time since she’d done something daring and it felt right.

He tied his shoe. “You shouldn’t. It’s likely to be dangerous.”

“I know the hospital, you don’t. I can help you hide.”

“I haven’t the time to argue. Stick with me and don’t get killed, I’ve got enough guilt the last me a few thousand years already so I don’t need any more.” He pushed the door open slightly glanced into the hallway and gestured to her. “Come on.”

More screams rent the air and chills tap danced up and down Rachel’s spine. Doctor Peel was slowly making his way towards the entryway, where the bad guys had likely come from. “Where are you going?” she hissed after catching up.

“They have to know I’m here before they’ll chase me, right?” She nodded. That did make sense. He glanced around the corner, gave her a ‘Stay There’ look and bounced into the next corridor. “Looking for someone?” he questioned loudly.

Rachel stayed put, but peeked around the corner; curious to see whom they’d be avoiding. Her jaw dropped in surprise at the sight. Four very bulky and tall . . . creatures stood in the hallway near the admissions desk that was visibly damaged. Another smaller, but similar creature stood by them, taking charge. All appeared to be wearing some sort of armour, the smaller creature’s being more ornate and featuring a cape. The armour was green and bumpy, as if made from the corpse of an alligator. Tufts of dry brown hair jutted from the joints of the armour. They wore strange green helmets with red visors. The skin that did show underneath the helmet was green and scaly. They were obviously not human. Rachel darted back behind the corner, her heart pounding madly in her chest. She was so confused she could barely think about the fact that she was that confused.

Doctor Peel darted around the corner, drawing her from her non-thoughts. A high pitched whine filled the air, making her wince. The wall behind where the Doctor had been standing shimmered briefly before warping and melting slightly. She stared at it, blinking incredulously. “W-wha . . .” she stammered.

“Sonic guns,” Doctor Peel noted, as if it were nothing. “Come along, they may be bulky, but they’re not that slow.”

She began to run after him, not really thinking about where they were going. “What are those things?” she asked as they rounded a corner.

“The former inhabitants of Mars.”

“Martians?”

“Former Martians,” Doctor Peel corrected helpfully. He opened a door to a stairwell and gestured for her to enter. “What’s wrong? Disappointed that they’re large rather than little green men?”

“No, it’s just that . . . this makes no sense.” Her eyes glazed over slightly, distant and confused.

“They haven’t seen you yet, there’s no need for you to accompany me if you don’t want.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, you need my help.”

“If you insist, then move along.” They headed up the stairs. A flight up, they heard the door to the level below crash open. A hissing wheeze echoed through the stairwell. “Doc-tor,” the voice wheezed. “Running iss futile. You will be desstroyed for what you’ve done!”

He tugged Rachel to continue going up the steps, just more quietly than before. “Seems to me that I wasn’t the one that caused the building to collapse on us, that was someone else. Hmm, who could it have been?”

“Do not act the fool with me! You will pay for your interference and the death of my men!”

“Your priorities have been noted. Your men are less important than my interference.” An exasperated noise was his answer. Having climbed another level, Doctor Peel gestured towards the doorway and Rachel nodded at him. He opened the door, trying to be quiet about it and failing miserably. “After him!” hissed the creature from below and the Doctor and Rachel scurried through the door. “Are those doors ever oiled?” he questioned agitatedly.

They moved away from the door and Doctor Peel watched the bustle of the floor they were on while Rachel watched him, wondering what unusual thing would happen next. “We need to get people out of this building. They’re not safe with the Ice Warriors roaming about.”

“Ice Warriors?” Rachel repeated. “I thought they were Mar . . former Martians.”

“It’s a nickname,” he noted, scratching his chin idly, still watching things happen around him. “They’re not particularly fond of it themselves.” He thought for a moment. “It’s a tricky decision. If we find a way to evacuate people, they run the risk of getting injured from the cold until they reach safety, if they stay in the building the Ice Warriors can use them against me or just kill them if they feel impeded. I can’t leave the building because they’ll follow and they’re stronger out in the cold, as well as the fact that there are people out there to be killed as well. Each way one goes the danger is great.”

“Why are they stronger out in the cold?”

“They function better in the cold due to their body chemistry. Inversely, the warmth affects them negatively.” He spun to look at her. “The main heating controls are in the basement, correct?”

“I think so.” He gave her a disappointed look. “I never have to change the temperature of the building generally.”

“Point taken. How do we get to the basement, apart from taking the stairwell behind us or the lifts?”

“There’s another stairwell on the other side of this building.”

“Lead on.” They moved away quickly. Seconds later the massive bulk of an Ice Warrior crashed through the door, hissing and wheezing. They ran, the Doctor yelling for people to get down as the screaming started around them. He whipped Rachel around a corner as the Warrior fired his sonic weapon in their direction. Rachel’s ears rang, but otherwise the blast missed them. Doctor Peel continued running, so Rachel did her best to keep up with him. Suddenly, he darted around an empty wheelchair and moved to the far wall. Rachel watched as he flipped up the plastic cover over the red button in the wall. Gasping for air, she glanced behind them to see the large Ice Warrior moving towards them, it’s clamp like hands opening and closing quickly in a disturbed fidget. Doctor Peel’s face settled into a determined look and slammed his hand down on the button. The fire alarm screeched out its warning. She gasped for air and turned to look at the Ice Warrior again. With surprise she noted that it was down on one knee, grabbing its head in pain. “H-how did that happen?” she questioned tiredly.

“Their helmets tend to trap noise. The alarm should slow them down and it’ll evacuate people. Come on, the basement.” They continued on at a quick jog, saving their energy for when they might need it more. They made their way down the stairwell slowly, trapped by the mass of humanity that was working to escape the building due to the alarm. Once they reached the first floor again, two things happened: the foot traffic lessened as no one else was attempting to reach the basement and the alarm stopped. Rachel gave Doctor Peel a worried look but his gaze remained determined and she felt a wave of trust for this strange man because of it. “Come on,” he noted when she slowed down. “Nearly there.” When she had been little, she had played with her friends’ games of imagination, games of cops and robbers, space adventure, and acting out characters from their favourite movies and television shows. She remembered the thrill of being space pirate Raquel who had always been much more interesting than she felt she was in real life. The games had been fun, but, after a while, they stopped playing them. This was like one of their games, only serious. Doctor Peel fascinated her because he gave off the feeling that he did this sort of thing all the time. The big green aliens didn’t phase him, and he knew how to defeat them. In this game, he’d gotten the hero’s role, the best part, and he was playing it well. She had to help the hero; it was the right thing to do.

He held the heavy basement door open for her and they entered the sweaty dank area below. She found the air a bit thick and hard to breathe with an oily mechanical taste to it. Doctor Peel sniffed it happily. “Ah, it’s warm, isn’t it?” He began skulking around the machinery, looking for the temperature controls. Rachel followed, but at a distance, keeping an eye out for the creature she was sure was waiting to jump out at them. It was dark down here and hiding places were everywhere. The maintenance personnel all seemed to have left when the alarm went off.

When she caught up with the Doctor, he was tinkering with the controls on a large piece of machinery. “I’m sure the person who’s responsible for this won’t be pleased with me, but it’s in a good cause.” He cranked up the thermostat so that the building temperature would rise into the nineties. That task completed, he stood back and looked his work with a smile on his face. “That should do the trick.” He gestured with his head that it was time to go. “Let’s find them.”

“Aren’t we trying to avoid the Ice Warriors?”

“We were. Now we have the advantage, so perhaps now they’ll listen to me. Maybe now I can convince them to leave without causing anyone else further harm.” He had been in the process of walking away, back towards the stairwell. However, when the Ice Warrior staggered out of the shadow, lunging for him, he jumped back, startled and Rachel squeaked in surprise. The Ice Warrior’s breathing was very laboured in the thick warmth of the basement to the point that it was audible above the noisy temperature control machines surrounding them. “You . . mussst . . be . . desstroyed,” the bulky Warrior expressed, barely standing.

Doctor Peel seemed more distressed over the creature’s condition than pleased he was defeating his enemy. “You followed me down here? You fool, you’ll die!”

The Warrior seemed to ignore him, focusing more on the currently difficult concept of aiming his sonic weapon at the Doctor. After a moment, the creature gave up and collapsed. Rachel looked at Doctor Peel and saw the anguish on his face. “What do we do now?”

“What can we do now? He’s too heavy to lift and I can’t significantly change the temperature down here, and if I could it would take a long time to change.” The Warrior groaned once and then, before Rachel’s astonished eyes, seemed to melt away to nothing. Doctor Peel noted this reaction from her. “Self destruct charge that activates upon death, they’re not actually made of ice.” He sighed deeply and rubbed sweat from his nose. “Come on, let’s see if we can find their leader.”

The stairwell felt cold to Rachel compared to the basement. Doctor Peel ‘hmm’ed as they walked upwards. “It’s already getting warm out here.” She looked at him funny and shivered.

They returned to the ER. There they found the more ornate looking, smaller of the Ice Warriors slumped up against the admit desk, across from the doors that led outside. A slight chill would occasionally sneak through the doors, but it was very slight. “Lord Vrassmis, I have taken control of the temperature within the building,” Doctor Peel noted.

“Ironic,” the Ice Lord noted, “asss I have taken control of the temperature outsside thiss building.” He gestured towards the doors with a slight nod of the head and wheezed. “Would thossse doorss open, I would be bathed in life giving cold, but I am too weak from thiss heat to activate the mechanissm. I am weak indoorss and you are weak out of it.” He hissed a bit and suddenly Rachel realized he was laughing. “I am tired.”

“Call your Warriors together,” the Doctor pleaded, “and leave this planet. Promise me this and I will open the door, restore the internal temperature to normal so you can leave safety. There is no need for this to go on any longer.”

Lord Vrassmis lifted his head slightly to look at the Doctor better. For a moment, he did nothing but stare. “I believe you would do that.” Doctor Peel smiled slightly at this declaration of trust. “However, I will not do it.” The Doctor’s face fell instantly. “If we die, sso be it. You cannot sstop what we have begun. There are more of usss. When the cold ssuroundss thiss planet and the humanss are dead, they will come. It will not take long. If we musst die to enssure that, sso be it.” Tiredly, he raised a clamp.

“No!” shouted the Doctor, diving to stop the clamp’s descent. He was a moment too late, as the clamp made contact with a communicator button, sending out a signal. The Doctor rolled to the side, avoiding the slight discharge as the Ice Lord melted away. Sadly, the Doctor stared at the puddle left by the creature. He sighed and shook his head. “That was unnecessary.”

The doors whooshed open, letting in cold and firefighters. Upon seeing them there, the lead firefighter growled at them. “Didn’t you people hear the alarm? You should be evacuated, there’s a fire in here?”

Doctor Peel popped up, comic surprise on his face. “A fire? My goodness!” He pulled a handkerchief from a trenchcoat pocket and mopped his sweaty brow. “I’ve not seen any traces of fire, but the temperature gauge certainly seems to be stuck in here. Perhaps that set off a circuit breaker or some such due to the heat?”

The firefighter was visibly sweating. “That’s entirely possible. We’ll check into that. Until we’re sure, you folks gotta leave.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’ll be escorted to the safe area.” He directed one of his men to take them away and away they went.

Once they got to safety, in the gymnasium of Lincoln High School which was a whole block and a half away, Rachel was located by her workmates who quickly surrounded her and started asking if she was alright, where at she disappeared to, who were those people? Her insistence that those creatures were aliens was met with laughter. They must have been terrorists in costume or something, right? When she went to ask Doctor Peel for confirmation, she found he was gone.

Much later she found him sitting by his injured friend’s bedside. For some reason, she didn’t approach them right away when she noticed they were talking, nor did she leave them alone. For a moment or two, she just listened.

“How you feeling now Julie?”

She was groggy looking, but smiling. “Not bad, mostly just tired and sore. My right leg’s a bit stiff.”

“That sums up the chart pretty well. Nothing serious, nothing that can’t be fixed anyway, hmm?”

“Is everything dealt with?”

“Nearly. If I can figure out a way to shut down the machine, we’ll be fine.”

“Oh, you know you can do that Doctor.”

He smiled. “Most likely. For the moment, you rest. If nothing else, it’ll give me a chance to think.” She nodded and let her eyes rest.

Rachel stepped into view and helloed. The Doctor returned the greeting, apparently undisturbed his moment to think had been removed from him. “Can you do me a favour?”

“If I can,” he answered, “what?”

“Explain to my friends about the Ice Warriors. They think they we just people in suits, terrorists, not aliens.”

The Doctor sighed. “What makes you think they’ll believe me?” That slowed her down. She hadn’t thought of that. She saw no reason not to believe him, and just assumed they’d feel the same. What reason did they have to believe him? “Chances are the incident will be explained away as an attempted firebombing or something similar by terrorists in costume, as they already believe. If you insist they were aliens, they’ll end up putting you through therapy, saying you must have been traumatized by the incident.”

She nodded. He was right; no one would believe her. “They were aliens though, weren’t they?”

“Oh certainly. You didn’t forget about the sonic guns already, did you?”

She shook her head. “That could be classified weaponry or something. How do you know for sure when no one else will believe?”

He smiled strangely and she knew that, whatever he told her, it wouldn’t be the complete truth. “Because I know. I don’t have to believe because I know.”

She knew there was more to it, but if he didn’t want to share it, she couldn’t make him. “Fair enough.”

“Sometimes, even when you know, you can’t convince others. Your friends will likely never believe they saw aliens today, no matter what you tell them.”



He was right. No one ever believed the story. The Doctor and his friend disappeared not long after that, as did their records, charts, and the surveillance footage from the period when the Ice Warri . . . terrorists were in the building. For a while, people were saying someone from a group named ‘UNIT’ came to collect it, but most of the people who said they were there when it got collected have been transferred to other hospitals now. That’s just considered a rumour now.

The Doctor was right, no one believed when I said aliens attacked our hospital. I don’t bring it up much anymore. Some days, I’m not even sure it happened anymore as everyone, the people around me and the media and everyone else, seem so sure it was terrorists. But I know they were aliens . . . weren’t they?