Doctor Trek - The Green Green Glow Of Death (Parts 1, 2 And 3) (2)
"Twin Peaks?" Doug exclaimed. "But that was MONTHS ago! That was even before you got on the student exchange program!" "The WHAT?" Cody frowned. "Never mind, Doug," Pam said sharply. She leaned forward and hugged her daughter. "I'm just glad you're back with us now, safe and sound." "Me too," Cody returned the embrace. "You gave us a terrible scare, with the fever and everything," Pam told her. "Some of the things you were saying in your sleep..." Cody looked at her curiously. "Like what?" "Oh, you know, silly things..." Pam waved a dismissive hand, chuckling. "Spaceships, time travel, Daleks, Sontarans, Cybermen..." "What are those?" Cody wondered. "Bug-eyed monsters, by the sound of it!" Pam laughed. "Never mind about it. You're over the worst of it now, that's the main thing. You just lay back, relax, and concentrate on getting better." "Okay," Cody agreed gratefully, lying back. "Come on, Doug," Pam led her husband out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Cody lay in bed, her mind whirling. She was exhausted, yet she couldn't sleep. She was in her own bed, in her own room, in her own house. Everything was fine. Everything was normal. So why did the room seem almost to be laughing at her? It was around noon as Christina Robinson and Adam Willis strolled down by Lassiter's Lake. "So when do you leave?" Christina was asking. "Next week," Adam replied. "I bet you're really looking forward to seeing Gemma again," Christina smiled. "You could say that," Adam beamed. "I've missed her like you wouldn't BELIEVE." "Oh, I think I would," Christina laughed. Adam sighed. "I'm just glad I know my sister's gonna be okay before I go. Bit worried there for a while, I'll admit." "Cody's definitely okay now?" Christina inquired. "Doc says so. Right as rain in another couple of days, thank goodness," Adam sighed. They carried on their leisurely stroll. Adam changed the subject. "So when's Caroline getting back from her business trip?" "Two days," Christina sighed. "I must say, I'll be glad when she does. Paul's been acting so WEIRD since the merger. And THAT'S gonna come as a shock to her..." she trailed off. "Hey, what's that?" "What?" "THAT!" Christina pointed into the lake. Adam looked, squinting. "It looks like... it looks like... my God, it's a body!" He removed his jacket, and began taking off his shoes and socks. "What are you doing?" Christina whimpered pathetically. "Stay here," Adam handed her his jacket, and dived headlong into the lake. "Oh, be CAREFUL!" Christina wailed even more pathetically. Adam swum over to the body. It was face down in the water, but clearly that of a man. Adam grabbed it by the waist and dragged it over to the shore. Christina helped him up. "Is he..?" She prodded the body gently. "We'll soon know," Adam turned the body over - and recoiled in shock and disgust. Christina gave a wimpy little half-hearted scream. The man was clearly dead. And his bulging, distorted face was glowing a bright shade of GREEN. Two days later. Morning in the Willis house, and Cody was ready for school, dressed in that sexy school uniform with that sexy (and criminally short) pink skirt. "I still think I'm a bit too sick to go back just yet," Cody was trying it on just one more time. "Maybe another couple of days at home...." "I don't think so," Pam glared, mock-sternly. "You're perfectly fine now, and you're GOING to school." "Alright," Cody heaved her school bag onto her shoulder grudgingly. "Yeah, come on shorty, you slacker," Adam ribbed her, tousling her hair affectionately as he passed her. Cody shook him off. "I said ALRIGHT!" she complained. She made her way to the door, sighing theatrically. "I just hope I don't collapse on the way to school, needing urgent medical attention..." "Get out of here!" Pam threw a washcloth at her. Grinning, Cody ducked out the door. Pam shook her head, smiling. Barking swung Cody's attention across the street as she left the Willis house. Little Toby Mangel was having a spot of bother with his dog, the infamous labrador known as Bouncer. Toby, with Bouncer on a lead, was trying to get his dog back inside his house. Bouncer, however, seemed to have other ideas, apparently intent on racing across the street toward Cody. Cody watched the struggle for a few moments, then chuckled and continued walking. Dorothy Burke, strict school headmistress, was just unlocking her car. "Hello, Mrs Burke," Cody said respectfully. "Cody." Was it Cody's imagination or was the tone of Dorothy's greeting even more frosty than usual? "I should hurry up if I were you. Don't want to be late for school." Cody rolled her eyes. "I won't be late, Mrs Burke, I promise." "Yes, I'm sure you do," Dorothy said frostily. "But we all know what the promises of you and your friends are worth, don't we?" She climbed in her car, and slammed the door, clearly very put out about something. Cody frowned. Christina looked up as the door to her home, No. 22 Ramsay Street, opened and her identical twin sister, Caroline Alessi, dropped half a dozen suitcases on the floor. "Hey, Chrissy," Caroline greeted her. She stomped in and collapsed on the sofa, breathing heavily. "Phew! It's good to be home, I'll say that." "Hey," Christina seemed awkward and nervous - well, more awkward and nervous than was even usual. "What is it?" Caroline demanded. "What's wrong?" "It's Paul," Christina confided nervously. "What about him?" Caroline narrowed her eyes. "It's... it's..." Christina flailed pathetically. "What's he done?" Caroline demanded. Christina told her. "What the HELL is going on?!" Paul Robinson looked up from his desk in his office in the Lassiters Hotel Complex as his assistant manager, Caroline, came storming in. "Now hang on - " Paul stood up, dropping his pen on his desk. "Calm down, calm down." "Is it true or isn't it?" Caroline demanded. "Well..." Paul began awkwardly. "Technically, yes, it is." "I can't BELIEVE you!" Caroline yelled, fire in her eyes. "I go away on a business trip for two weeks and you SELL the business!" "I haven't sold anything," Paul refuted angrily. "The Robinson Corporation has simply taken on a partner." "We don't NEED a partner!" Caroline cried. "And if we did, don't you think you should have at least CONSULTED me?!" "It was take it or leave it. I had to make a decision, so I did," Paul told her. "You idiot!" Caroline began. Someone came in behind her. "Caroline - " Paul began. "You moron!" Caroline continued. "Caroline," Paul repeated, more dangerously this time. "You FUCKWIT!" Caroline yelled. "CAROLINE!" Paul was shocked. He'd never heard Caroline use language like that before, and certainly not in the hours of 1-1.30 pm or 5.35 - 6 pm. "WHAT?" Caroline screamed. "I'd like to introduce you to our new partner," Paul told her. Caroline noticed the man standing behind her, and jumped a mile. "Oh - er, hello." "Caroline, this is Mr Elgin," Paul said tightly. "Managing Director of our new partner - Global Chemicals!" CHAPTER FOUR Wickersley, England. July 1989. Sammy Davis Jnr. was not pleased. He wasn't pleased because, generally speaking, he wasn't pleased. The problem was, he wasn't entirely sure what it was he wasn't pleased about, and the fact he didn't know - or more likely given his current predicament, couldn't remember - what it was that he wasn't pleased about made him even less pleased. He wasn't pleased that he didn't know why he wasn't pleased, but at least he knew why he wasn't pleased about that. Not that it pleased him. But the major reason for his displeasure was that he had no life. Not in the normal sense that someone might not have a life - having no girlfriend, no friends in an 11,000 mile radius, and no hobbies other than writing silly so-called science fiction stories and posting them onto writing sites for not-that-bothered strangers to read - but in the sense that Sammy literally didn't have a life beyond a month ago. Not that he could remember, anyway. For him, life began in a hospital, where he'd been informed he'd been found in a rubbish skip in Rotherham. He had no memory of anything personal other than his name - and no one seemed to believe that WAS his real name, anyway. He could remember basic things, like eating and dressing and stuff like that, but anything about HIMSELF was a blur. So, as soon he had been found well enough to be discharged from hospital, he had been declared a ward of the state and packed off to a foster home in Wickersley. Now, his 'foster father', Jack Daniels, who kept insisting Sammy call him "Johnboy" and kept asking him if he wanted a drink, was driving him to begin attending the local Wickersley Comprehensive School. Sammy didn't see the point - there were only about two weeks left 'til the summer holidays, but his 'parents' had insisted, saying he could have already made friends when he went back in September. Fat chance, Sammy thought. So Sammy wasn't pleased. And he wasn't best pleased about it. Wickersley Comprehensive School. Teacher and 3T form head Mr Dudley was hurrying to his form room. Tall, balding and with a bright red beard, Dudley wanted to talk to one of his pupils, Ian Kidd, before the others arrived. He'd heard that Ian and his family were going to be having some time off later in the year to go on a long holiday to Australia. Even worse, Dudley had heard a spinechilling rumour that the holiday was a kind of a recce, with a view to emigrating there PERMANENTLY. Dudley wanted to see if he couldn't talk Ian out of it. If he moved there, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. Australians were WANKERS, Dudley knew that all too well from his own personal experiences. True, he'd only met one. Once. But then, that had been MORE than enough. Dudley was so busy hurrying, he failed to notice a trail of green slime oozing down a wall and into the drains behind him. Second period, English. Sammy had been a pupil at Wickersley Comprehensive School for three days now, and so far he didn't like it one little bit. Not just the lessons, the pupils and the teachers, but... EVERYTHING. It all just felt WRONG, somehow. Like he really shouldn't be there. Now, anyway. The teacher, a Miss Caswell or someone, was handing back the short stories they had written several days ago. Sammy's story had been very strange, even he knew that. It was about a boy who was in love with a fictional character, yet somehow ended up being with her anyway. It was bizarre, bonkers, and Sammy didn't even know where he'd gotten the idea from. It had just come to him, flowing from the pen. It was probably crap, mind. He didn't even like SF/Fantasy and that sort of thing. Least, he didn't THINK he did. Miss Caswell stopped by him, dropping his story on his desk. Sammy saw with some surprise it had received a 19/20 score. Miss Caswell bent down by him. "That was very good work, Sammy. It really... moved me." "Oh... er... thanks... I guess," Sammy eyed her warily. Was she coming onto him? "Listen, I was just wondering, if you might be interested..." Miss Caswell began. Sammy stared at her with growing alarm. She WAS coming onto him! "In joining the Sci-Fi Club," Miss Caswell finished. Sammy blinked. "What?" "The Sci-Fi Club," Miss Caswell reported. "It's a club for people who like sci-fi and fantasy and that sort of thing. There's some really good people there," she said. Sammy looked at her in rising horror. At first, he'd been relieved that she wasn't coming onto him; that almost seemed preferable to what she was suggesting NOW. "Oh, er..." "It's just... Activity Week is next week," Miss Caswell informed him. "The Sci-Fi Club are making one of their sci-fi movies. You're welcome to join in if you like." Sammy looked at him. His lip curled in open contempt. "I don't THINK so," he said disgustedly. 5:34 pm. Sammy was back in his "home", with his "parents", watching tv while eating fish and chips. At least, that's what his new "mom" had told him it was. Looked like fried sick to him. "And now on BBC 1, 'Neighbours'." Sammy looked up. "Neighbours" ran the opening credits, "everybody needs good neighbours..." Sammy's blood ran cold. And it wasn't just the idea of actually watching a soap opera. As the episode - mostly concerning Daphne being in a coma or something - progressed, Sammy began to feel more and more weird. He'd never seen the show before, yet it felt... not just familiar, but REAL. He felt like he KNEW these people. Not all of them, but some... Harold, Madge, Jim, Helen... Then there was Ramsay Street itself... Sammy could imagine, almost FEEL, what it was like to actually STAND on that street, to walk across to No. 28 and knock on the door... It was impossible, ridiculous even, but Sammy felt like he'd been there. He also felt there was something very WRONG with this episode. Not just the appalling acting, writing and directing, but... something else. Like something was missing. Something... or someone. The fried sick grew cold on Sammy's plate. CHAPTER FIVE "Just one thing, Commander - who exactly was that?" The left side of her body was cold, particularly her face. That was the first thing Ace thought as she slowly floated back to consciousness. "Oh, that was - er - Captain Jameth T...." Ace opened her eyes. No wonder. She was lying face down in some kind of corridor, the left side of her face planted firmly on cold tiles. Ace rolled over onto her back, mind whirling, trying to make sense of where she was and what had happened. "Captain Jameth T..." They'd been on the TARDISPRISE, that was it, Ace remembered. Her, the Captain, Frobisher, Sammy and Cody. Getting information and instructions from Admiral Borusa. But information and instructions about WHAT, exactly? "Captain James T. WHO?!?!?" Ace sat up, sharp. The Captain! Was he here? She looked around. The corridor was empty, but the voices couldn't be coming from that far away. "Thatth it!" Ace stood up. From the look of the corridor, she was in some kind of school. Very 80s too. Not Perivale, though, hopefully. The voices were now moving further away. Ace began running down the corridor. She suddenly realised her right leg hurt, and limping slowed down her movement. Behind her, only a few metres from where she had arrived, a green slime began to surreptitiously slither away in the opposite direction. Ace turned the corridor. The owners of the two voices she had heard - two young men, one in a lab coat and one in a very curly, very obvious and very silly wig - turned away down the other end of the corridor at that very moment. By the time she reached the other end of the corridor, however, they had gone. Ace noticed a window off to the side and went over to look out. Ace found her breath knocked out of her body by a vast blackness, enlivened only by the occasional twinkling star. "That's no school," Ace breathed in shock. "That's a space station!" It was indeed. Space Station Delta Sigma, in point of fact, and the two men, the lab-coated Dr. Crawford and the bewigged Commander Kipling respectively, parted company at an intersection in the station's labyrinth corridors. "I'll get back to my lab, then," Crawford commented. "Yeth of courth," Kipling agreed. "I'd better get back to the cloning woom, get Dr. Wonlay and Thecurity Chief Garbel back in action. We're going to need them. The thtation'th in a tewwible meth." "Cor Blimey, it is, sah," Crawford wandered off. Kipling sauntered on alone, mulling over the day's events. The attack by The Big Fairy had left many station personnel dead, and while he could resurrect Ronlay and Garbel (just like he himself had been) - all senior staff had their DNA's recorded and copied in case of premature contract termination - for the "lower level" employees, there would be no such Lazarus-like miracle. Kipling just wished he'd had the foresight to bend the rules a tad and get a copy of the tea lady's DNA on file. Poor Elaine. The station just wouldn't be the same without her. Still, Kipling mused, it could have been worse - and undoubtedly would have been, but for the timely arrival and intervention of Captain James T. Who and his companions. They were SO clever. Kipling turned into the cloning laboratory, keyed in his command code into the computer and activated Dr. Ronlay's DNA sequence. The rather shower-like cubicle in the corner flashed and buzzed with rather meaningless and totally unnecessary lights and noises. In actual fact, the initial design didn't have them, but Kipling had made the change himself. It just felt more... SCIENTIFIC, with them. Besides, he liked looking at the pretty colours. A figure began to form in the cloning cubicle, and soon Dr. Ronlay stood there, fully clothed. Kipling had never quite understood how that part worked, exactly, but apparently it had something to do with Codes of Standards and Practices. Or something. Ronlay emerged from the cubicle, removing his thick glasses from the front pocket of his lab coat and placing them on his face. "Ah, Commander," he greeted him. He looked around the room in realisation. "I shay. Did I shnuff it?" "Indeed you did, Dr. Wonlay," Kipling informed him. "And tho have a lot of other people. Do you mind, I'd better get on with wethuwwecting Thergeant Garbel." "Garbelsh shnuffed it ath vell?" Ronlay wrinkled his nose. "Do you have to bving him back?" "Yeth I do, Wonlay, yeth I do," Kipling said sternly. "Thergeant Garbel may be an obnoxiouth thit, but he'th thtill the thation'th motht twuthtworthy thecuwity offither. Bethideth, you were in league with the Big Faiwy, but I bwought YOU back!" "Ya, good point, Commander," Kipling nodded, tapping his nose wisely. "Good point." Dr. Crawford had returned to his and Dr. Ronlay's laboratory and began his spectographic analysis of the last batch of fairy cakes, picking up from where he had left off when attacked by the Dr. Ronlay-creature. "Aaah." Crawford whirled. There was no one in the room with him. Crawford looked around uneasily. That had been a voice, surely? Crawford looked over at the point from which it had seemed the voice had originated. There was nothing, save for a bowl. Crawford walked over and looked in. It was just a bowl of green slime, one of Ronlay's new dessert toppings. It couldn't have made that noise, surely. Could it? Crawford rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "Cor Blimey," he muttered softly. The clone cubicle flashed and buzzed. "Zey are vevy pvetty colours, Commander," Ronlay complimented. "Oh, thank you, Wonlay," Kipling looked pleased. "I dethigned them mythelf, you know." Sergeant Garbel stepped out of the cubicle and, upon seeing Kipling and Ronlay, snapped into an instant salute. "Security Chief Garbel, reporting on the double, SAH!" he roared. "Yeth, alwight, Garbel," Kipling shook his head. Garbel looked around. "Did I DIE? Who did it, sah? I'll kill them!" "It'th ALWIGHT, Garbel!" Kipling assured him, becoming irritated. "The thituation hath been THORTED!" Garbel took his gun and began looking around edgily. "I'll get 'em, Commander, I promise you. I'll get 'em." Ronlay shook his head. "Vy oh vy did you bving this pvick back?" Ace was wandering the corridors of Delta Sigma. She'd given up trying to find the two men she'd seen, and was now just trying to find anyone in authority. After all, if the Captain was here, that's where he'd be headed, right? Ace examined the place with a professional, seasoned eye as she roamed. The station was clearly old, tatty and decayed, but some of the damage was recent. Something had happened here... maybe something to do with the mission they'd been on? If only she could remember what that mission WAS... "Stop right there!" Ace turned. A curly-haired, scowling security officer was charging officiously toward her. "Oh, hi," Ace nodded, relieved to see someone in authority. "I need your he - " "You're a stowaway!" Garbel reacher her and grabbed her by the arm. "You're a stowaway and you're under ARREST!" CHAPTER SIX Meadowhall Shopping Centre, Sheffield, England. March 31, 2003. Leaving their vehicle in the car park, Jason Donovan, Paul Bates and his trusty cameraman Klaus Kinky were headed into the bowels of Meadowhall, filming having resumed. "So..." Paul began. "Have you been happy with the development of your career since leaving 'Neighbours'?" He cast a surreptitious wink at the camera. Klaus struggled to restrain a chuckle.
Copyright © 2003 Ian Kidd |