A "Captain
Scarlet & the Mysterons" story
“Wait a minute –
you’re saying we’re already married!?”
Seated at the foot of the bed, Blue watched as
Symphony, standing in front of the small table, was pouring the contents of a
jug into two goblets, her back turned to him.
He saw her give a brief nod of her blonde head, before turning around, and
marching towards him, with the two drinks.
“We have been for the past three months – are you
saying you do not remember?” There
was a look of scepticism on her beautiful face that turned into dismay when she
saw his hesitation. She came to sit
right next to him, and put the two goblets on the floor, to free her hands, and
stroked Blue’s face in concern. “My poor, dearest love… Whatever happened to you and Nanna in
those mountains? Oh, those Ice
Giants – now that we are strong enough, with the union of our two lands, we will
make them pay, you will see!” Her
eyes were flashing with indignity and anger.
Blue took her hand in his, gently stopping her as she moved to embrace him.
“We’ll see about that
later,” he said with an uncertain smile.
“But right now – maybe if you’d bring me up to date, it’ll help me
remember?” She looked at him as if she had not
understood what he was saying. Which is probably the case, he realised
suddenly. “Tell me about us,” he
said instead. “How did we meet?”
“You do not even remember that?” she moaned.
“I’m afraid not,” he answered, a little sheepishly.
“But I’m sure it will come back to me very soon,” he added quickly, noticing the
obvious disappointment on her face.
“If… you can tell me about it?”
“If it will help
you…” Symphony gave a sigh. "I do not know if you remember the
battle at the pass of Svartalf, just on the border of the Icy Mountains…"
Of course, Blue couldn't remember something he had not been a part of, but he
simply nodded as she pursued the tale:
"I was leading a troop of Vanir warriors, in reconnaissance on the border, and
we clashed with patrolling Aesir soldiers – whom you commanded at the time. It was a glorious battle, and even
though you were superior in number, it seemed like our forces were equal…" Blue raised an eyebrow, hearing the
barely-contained arrogance of her statement, but didn't reply.
"A huge force of mercenaries from Svartalfheim – those servile slaves of
the Ice Giants – attacked us," she said with a loud snort of loathing.
"Those cowards were much greater in number and had estimated that we were
growing weaker, because we had been fighting each other for some time, and
casualties were high on both our sides.
However, they did not count on the fact that we would combine our strength
against our common enemies. We were able to hold our ground – more: we actually
killed a lot of those bastards and were able to repel what was left of their
forces and forced them to flee across their border.
The Aesir troop, however, paid the highest price of this victory:
except for you, none of them survived.
But they died a glorious death."
She touched Blue's chest, right where his heart was. "You were seriously injured, and you
lost your sight, while protecting me from a treacherous blow from behind –
despite the fact that I was an enemy of your people.”
“I lost my sight?”
Blue said in a pensive tone. Okay… that might be in accordance with the
Norse legends. Hodur was a
blind god, but no story told how he had lost his sight.
There was also no
existing saga recalling that he did
recover his sight, though. To
Blue’s knowledge, anyway.
"You were unconscious - we could not leave you behind,
at the mercy of the mercenaries who would surely return,” Symphony continued.
“So I decided to take you to Vanaheim.
You were not expected to survive, let alone recover your sight, but our
physician treated your injuries and you got better as the days turned into
weeks. I visited you often, and in the end, even stayed by your
side, while you were healing." She
smiled, as she remembered those fond memories.
"You eventually regained your sight, and your strength. Our Lady Freyja did not quite know what
to make of you. She was torn
between keeping you hostage and demanding a ransom from your sire or sending
your head to him as a warning of what would become of our enemies."
Blue stared at Symphony with unbelieving eyes. They’re all incredibly bloodthirsty in these
new roles of theirs! he reflected.
Uncomfortably, he stroked the back of his neck. "I'm sure glad she didn't choose the
second option!" he noted with an uneasy smile.
"After you had saved
my life, her conscience would not let her do it – and frankly, neither would I.
Not only because I was now honour-bound to you, for you had saved my life – but
because we had fallen in love."
"Now it would seem
that was a rather awkward dilemma?"
"Aye. But it was you who provided the perfect solution to it; and to all of the
problems of your people and mine, at the same time."
"By marrying you?"
"Not only that, my
love, but you convinced Lady Freyja that it would be in the best interests of
both our lands to form an alliance
that would permit us to fight and eventually defeat the dreaded Ice Giants. The
battle at the Svartalf pass served as a proof that by uniting our forces, we
would be powerful enough to become a fair match for our common enemies.”
"I guess hard times
make unexpected allies," Blue remarked.
“That is what you said at the time,” Symphony said with
a brief smile. “And after all, none
of us know the real reason for this feud between Aesgard and Vanaheim.
It happened so long ago, so was it not time to end this war between our people?”
“Quite right,”
murmured Blue, pensively.
“The most difficult part of your task was to convince
Lord Odin of the advantage of your plan. After Lady Freyja celebrated our union,
you were sent back to Aesgard, escorted by Lord Tyr – as a token of our ruler's
good faith, he was to put himself under Odin’s command. And of course, submit the proposal to
your Lord, with your help.”
“Lord Tyr is a very brave man to expose himself to the
wrath of Aesgard’s ruler,” Blue noted.
“I’m guessing Odin wasn’t very happy at discovering I had married a
Valkyrie of the Vanir.”
“So you told
me, my love,” Symphony said, chuckling.
“But you and Lord Tyr were able to show Odin the wisdom of an alliance
between our clans. And, if nothing
else, despite being our enemy, Odin is known as a very wise man and ruler.”
“He insisted that the Vanir people would
officially surrender to Aesgard,” Blue remarked.
“I see the memory is
coming back to you, my lord.”
Not really,
Blue reflected inwardly. Just an educated guess…
He stared curiously at the Valkyrie.
“But if you knew all that,” he pointed out, “if this
was already all planned in advance…
What was the point of that elaborate scene – why the show during the
meeting earlier?”
“T’was part of the
deal, my love,” Symphony answered.
“Freyja accepted Odin’s demand that Vanaheim surrender to Aesgard – but
we have our pride, do we not? We
were not going to let it appear that we submitted willingly.”
Blue raised an inquiring brow. “That’s why Rhaps… I mean Nanna… flew to the Icy Mountains?”
“She was on a mission
there, but nothing had been seen or heard from her since she left. You volunteered to find her – as a
demonstration of Aesgard’s good faith in this agreement between our people.”
Symphony smiled thinly. “As I understand, Balder also
volunteered, considering Nanna was his betrothed, but Freyja did not trust him
entirely. As you are the only Aesir
she could truly trust, she agreed that you
should go.”
“So it was already
decided who would be betrothed to
whom,” Blue mused. “Again, it was
part of the charade.”
“Of course, my love.
Would you have run the risk of me ending up in the bed of one of your brothers?”
She laughed, seeing Blue’s response in the form of an awkward look. “I have to admit that neither
Nanna nor Sif were pleased with the situation.”
“I bet,” Blue murmured, more to himself than to
Symphony.
“You did bring your knowledge of your Aesir
brethren to the matching, though,” Symphony continued. “You were confident that Balder and
Nanna were perfect for each other…
And that Sif’s fiery temper would be a perfect match for Thor’s rowdy manners.”
“Oh, sure, if they
don’t kill each other first,” muttered Blue.
If they were anything at all like Captain Ochre and Melody Angel, he had
no trouble imagining the sparks flying in Thor’s chamber at the moment. Those two were playing a strange game of
cat and mouse together – and nobody really knew
who
was the cat and who the mouse. They stopped just short of getting at each other’s throats. If they had not yet ended up in bed
together – and nobody could say for sure
if that had already happened – it was certainly bound to happen sooner or
later.
“I have told you all that I know so far, and I can see,
by the lost look in your eyes, that you are still confused," Symphony declared
after scrutinizing him closely.
She leaned down and lifted the two goblets she had previously put aside,
offering one to Blue. "Enough talk,
then. Here is something that might
help you regain your memory… or at least, cheer you."
Blue guardedly
sniffed the contents of the goblet, remembering how the ale he had drunk earlier
in the Hall – even in such a small quantity – had tasted so terrible.
The smell of this new drink wasn't disagreeable at all.
He tasted it cautiously. "Cider,"
he proclaimed in surprise.
Symphony nodded her head. "Made with the golden apples of my own garden in Vanaheim,"
she answered proudly.
"My family have tended them for generations – and the cider we make from
them is a nectar from the gods. It
is said to have healing abilities."
"Is that so?" Blue
said, raising an eyebrow.
"How much truth is there in that claim?"
"At least as much
truth as there is in Lord Thor's assertion that the touch of his hammer can heal
mortal wounds?" That didn't sound
like a positive answer to Blue, who was taking another sip of his drink.
Symphony laughed. "When you tasted
it in Vanaheim, you told me it was probably what healed you."
Blue took a larger
gulp of the cider. He had never
tasted anything like this before.
It was truly delicious. Which is really
strange. This drink is a part of a 3D game.
It shouldn’t even have any taste in the
first place. And yet…
"This will be very popular in Aesgard," he noted, looking
thoughtfully at the nearly empty goblet.
"Aye, I reckon it
will…" Sipping at the contents of
her vessel, Symphony watched as Blue drained the last of his. Then, she took it from his hand, and put
both back down on the floor. "…And
enough drinking, now," she said, leaning toward him and putting her arms around
his neck. "I want you to keep a
clear head, my love. We might be
already married, but that does not mean we cannot be like the others and
consummate this 'wedding night'…" She started nibbling at his neck, playfully. At first, Blue didn't react; he was
feeling rather hot and slow, and he thought it might be fatigue starting to set
in – that, combined with the effect of the cider…
He gently tried to disentangle himself from her arms.
"I don't think it's…" He stopped, noticing his slurred voice. His vision was starting to lose its
focus and the room was spinning. He
blinked several times. "I don't
feel too well…”
“I will make you feel better, my love,” she said, in a
purring tone, that reminded him very much of Symphony at her most impish. She had no trouble pushing him down onto
the bed, as he was quite unable to offer any resistance now. At another time, and in different
circumstances, he would have enjoyed himself; but at the moment, considering the
awkwardness of the situation, he wasn't sure if it was too wise to pursue this…
venture.
And he really didn't feel too well. He tried to fight off the drowsiness
that was threatening to overcome him – and a terrible suspicion suddenly formed
in his mind.
My God… was the cider drugged?!
He didn't think that Symphony – 'Iduna' – would
knowingly do him any harm – not after what she had just told him about herself
and ‘Hodur’. She truly believed
this ‘background story’ to be the truth.
She had narrated it, as if she had truly participated in it.
Besides, if she had
wanted to, she could easily have slit his throat earlier…
That was logical,
wasn’t it?
No… there was definitely something wrong here.
“The cider…” he said,
almost in a whisper.
“…Is just making you
relaxed,” the voice of Symphony told him.
It sounded as if it was coming from afar, and he could barely see her
face, now hovering in front of his eyes.
He screwed up his eyes, grunting with the effort of desperately trying to
stay awake.
“Karen…” he moaned,
trying to raise his hand to his aching brow.
“My… head…”
“Just relax, my
love…” he heard the voice of Symphony tell him again, echoing from even further
away. “Relax…”
Darkness engulfed him
completely and he felt as if he was falling from a vertiginous height as he
finally lost his battle to keep awake, the voice still reverberating through his
mind…
“This is the Voice of the Mysterons… We will be avenged
for your unprovoked attack on our Martian Complex… Nothing will stop the events leading to
Ragnarok. Hear us, Earthmen… Your nightmare is not finished. Ragnarok is coming…”
In the darkness surrounding him, as he was trying to
draw himself from a very deep sleep, Captain Blue tensed. The ominous words had made their way into his drowsy mind. This was an abrupt wake-up call to
reality, if ever he had heard one.
He desperately clung to it, and physically and mentally struggled to wake up.
“Relax, Captain…
You’re back with us, now.
Just take it easy.”
Blue blinked his eyes
and he regained his sight.
There was an unnatural brightness surrounding him, now… electric light, he observed, as his eyes became accustomed to it,
and he found himself staring up at a high ceiling. He was lying on his back, on a bed – a modern bed, with a mattress – his head elevated on a pillow, and
with bleeping sounds coming from a panel embedded in the wall just over his
head. An electrode was applied to
his brow, and he could feel others on his bare chest. His brow furrowed as his mind cleared and he considered his
new situation.
I'm in sickbay,
he realised. This is Cloudbase. I'm back…
Next to a
powered-down projector, set just above him, he could see a male face, hovering,
looking down at him. “Doc,” he
sighed, recognising Fawn. When he
tried to push himself up from the mattress, it was to discover that his wrists
and ankles were held down by security restraints.
He looked up with concern into Fawn's face. Fear suddenly crept into his mind.
Oh no… not Edward…
"Do not worry,
Captain," a voice told him.
"Your doctor isn't an agent of the Mysterons." Blue could see that Fawn's expression
was troubled – even upset. The physician looked up in the direction from which
the voice had come. A man came to stand next to him, and Blue's eyes hardened
upon recognising him.
"But you are, aren’t
you, Bromwell?"
Technician Bromwell
didn't answer the accusation; he didn't even flinch. Blue struggled against his restraints.
“You’re behind this
crazy situation, aren’t you?”
“How perceptive,”
Bromwell retorted coldly. He shook his head.
"I will free you, Captain… if you give your word that you will behave
yourself."
"And why would I do
you that favour, exactly?" Blue asked sharply.
"Because if you
don't, Sergeant Rochester will kill your friends?” Bromwell made a gesture, and a second man, wearing a Spectrum
security uniform, appeared, holding a gun in his right hand. Blue became alert, and stopped
struggling. “Starting with the good doctor,” Bromwell added in an ominous tone. As he heard those words, Blue saw
the gun being aimed at Fawn who looked down at it with anger in his eyes. Bromwell casually addressed Blue again: "Is that a good enough reason, Captain
Blue?"
Blue swallowed hard
and nodded briefly. "I think it is,
yes."
"So do I have your
word?"
"You have it.
Free me. I won't try anything against you."
"Good. I knew you were a reasonable man. Doctor
Fawn, if you would, please…?"
Under the threat of
the gun, Fawn approached and leaned down to first remove the three electrodes
attached to Blue’s chest, and the one on his brow. Then he unfastened
the restraints on Blue's ankles, and then his wrists. The Spectrum captain carefully kept still, mindful of the gun
now trained on them both, until Fawn had finished and stepped back. Only then did Blue finally sit up in bed
and swing his feet to the side. He
grunted, rubbing his neck. His body
felt stiff, as if he had slept a long time – much too long.
Well, of course…
That's exactly what’s happened, actually…
Blue looked down at
himself. His blue vest was gone,
and his shirt had been torn open halfway down to expose his chest, where the
electrodes had been attached – he could still see the marks on his flesh. As he raised his head, Blue noticed the
bunk next to his. Rhapsody Angel
was lying on it, her eyes closed, and her breast rising and falling quietly –
obviously deep in sleep. She was
restrained as he had been, and, through the discreetly opened cleavage of her
uniform, he could see electrodes on her as well, linked to the electronic panel
over her head. Just above her face,
there was a projector, sending waves of multicoloured lights onto her features,
in a gentle, quiet motion.
Blue felt anger rising inside him again, and he turned to face Fawn, with an
inquiring look. The latter shook
his head and offered a faint, but reassuring smile.
"Rhapsody is quite
all right, Blue," he informed him.
"Just asleep… and, I suspect, deeply involved in this idiotic 3D game…"
Blue thanked him with
a brief nod. "How are you, Doc?"
he asked in concern.
"Frustrated," Fawn
answered, with a frown. "And I also
feel quite useless, to tell the truth.
One minute, I was falling asleep in… ‘Aesgard’ – and the next, I wake up
here, staring up at the business end of a gun.
I reckon they figured I’d already told you too much of what was going
on."
"On the contrary,
Doctor," Bromwell retorted quietly. "You actually served your purpose quite nicely… by giving
Captain Blue the first information he needed, so he would be able to play our
little game."
"You’re telling me
you wanted him to be informed?" Fawn
replied with a doubtful glance.
"You are behind this, then," Blue murmured.
He nodded thoughtfully, seeing the smug expression on Bromwell's face.
"I heard the Mysterons' Voice as I woke up… I'm sure it was not my
imagination."
"It wasn't," Fawn said gloomily. "You did hear them."
"So I was right,"
Blue added, still staring at Bromwell. "You are a
Mysteron."
Bromwell smiled faintly.
“There’s little point in me answering that question, is there?”
“It was not a
question; it was an affirmative statement.”
Blue’s tone was as hard as his features, as he stared straight at
Bromwell. He glanced briefly in
Rochester’s direction; the gun the security guard was holding was aimed straight
at him, and his face was implacable.
Another Mysteron, Blue thought
with loathing. He quickly evaluated
his chance of actually taking on the two of them all by himself, without
endangering Doctor Fawn. He was
interrupted in his reflection by Bromwell’s loud scoffing, which compelled him
to turn in his direction.
“Don’t try anything
foolish, Captain Blue. Do you
really want to see all your friends and colleagues, all the people living on
Cloudbase, die? Because if you
attack us, if you even succeeded in subduing or killing us, you will sign their
death warrant, I can guarantee this.
Besides," he added in a mocking tone,
"you did give me your word, didn't you?"
“You mean to tell me
that all these people are in your power?” Blue asked. He squinted doubtfully at the man.
Bromwell’s glare was
icy. “That’s exactly what I mean,
Captain,” he said in an ominous tone.
“Every single one of them.
They’re all in our power.”
“I don’t believe
you,” Blue retorted, deeply furrowing his brow. Fawn had a similar expression of doubt on his face.
“Oh, ye men of little
faith…" Bromwell declaimed.
"So typical of Earthmen…”
Sighing, he turned to a nearby TV monitor set on a desk and, with a
gesture, invited both Blue and Fawn to approach. It was only two or three steps, and, with Rochester in tow,
keeping at a careful distance, with his gun trained on them, the two Spectrum
agents came to stand in front of the monitor and watched the image displayed on
it.
“This screen is
linked to the various security cameras onboard Cloudbase,” Bromwell explained.
“I’m sure you’ll recognise most, if not all, of the locations…”
The screen was
divided into four sections, showing different areas of Cloudbase. The engine room, the main hangar, the
nurses’ station in sickbay and the radar room were first displayed. Bromwell pushed a button repeatedly, and
the images flicked through other portions of the base… The cafeterias, the sports centre, the galley, the officers’
lounge, the technicians’ stations, and so on…
Blue and Fawn opened their eyes wide with disbelief; all of those places
were displaying the same, incredible images…
People were lying on
the floor, or sprawled on seats, or at their stations, seemingly unconscious;
there was a mist in every room, ominously floating in the air, and the ambient
lighting, in all the rooms, was flashing in a strange motion, that reminded Blue
very much of the hypnotic lighting system in the Room of Sleep – and of the
lights he had seen flashing over Rhapsody’s face.
As far as Blue and
Fawn could tell, by the flickering of the many lights from different electronic
panels, all the computerised and electrical systems they could see seemed to be
operational and working in perfect order.
Whatever had hit the personnel didn’t seem to have any effect on the
material. That reminded Blue
uncomfortably of what had happened at several bases of the Frost Line Defence
system, more than a year ago…
Everyone working in those bases had
died, at that time.
This was so very
similar – down to that ominous
mist. Except for those dancing
lights…
“Don’t worry, they’re
all alive.” The voice of Bromwell
made his way through Blue’s brain, seemingly reading his mind. The Mysteron agent flicked through the
images one last time, until the screen finally displayed its last four images:
the Control Room, which, at the moment, was completely empty; the Amber Room,
where he could see three of the Angel pilots slumped on the two sofas,
apparently deep in sleep; the sickbay Room of Sleep, fully operational, where
colour-coded officers could be seen lying on beds.
Closest to the camera, Blue could recognise Colonel White and Captain Ochre.
Blue counted three other officers, but the rapid and irritating
flickering of the hypnotic lights made it difficult for him to see who they were
or what the colour of their uniforms was.
The last image was that of Rhapsody, lying on her bed right next to them,
looking so peaceful.
Blue turned furiously
toward Bromwell. "What evidence do
we have that they are indeed alive?" he asked.
Bromwell smirked.
"I could give you my word that they are, but I think you would not find it
sufficient. You already know that Rhapsody is alive. And I can show you the readings from the
beds in the Room of Sleep…" He
gestured to the third image on the screen.
"Look closely. You can see
that your colonel is in good condition.
As well as Captains Ochre, Magenta and Grey – and Lieutenant Green."
Blue pricked his ear,
noticing that Bromwell didn't mention Scarlet. He said nothing for now.
He was watching the screen intently.
“What is this… mist…
that seems to be all over Cloudbase?” he asked suspiciously.
“Actually, it is all
over the base, except for sickbay,” Bromwell corrected. “We sealed all airlocks leading here,
you see, so we’ll be perfectly safe.
This is gas, as you might have guessed.
A very strong, narcotic gas.”
“And this is what you
used to knock everyone out.”
“Correct, Captain. It
is true that we could have killed them all. Quite easily. By using lethal gas,
instead of this one, for example.
We had the opportunity. But
we didn’t do it.”
"Why didn't you?"
"It would not serve
the purpose of the Mysterons." He marked a short pause. "At this point, anyway.”
“How did you get that
gas in here?”
Bromwell chuckled.
“Ah… Captain, you would have me tell you all of my little secrets?”
Blue simply frowned in answer.
Bromwell looked thoughtful for a minute, before giving his answer: “Creating the gas onboard was a little
matter, when you have access to all the components necessary. Some of them, you would find in
sickbay, others in the hangar bay – the rest, down in weaponry.”
Blue narrowed his
eyes. "How did you succeed in getting it all over Cloudbase?” he asked. “And how did you put everyone into such
a state? How did you achieve that?”
“How did I trap all
of them in this fake reality, you mean?” Seeing Blue nodding to the affirmative,
Bromwell shook his head. "Oh… through a simple rewiring job within Cloudbase’s
various life-support and environmental systems, and computers… addition of
special software and programming… Easy enough when you have the natural
ability to do it...”
“Easy my foot!” Fawn scoffed loudly.
“You had the help of the Mysterons!
And there is nothing ‘natural’ about
this 3D game… The Mysterons simply
used its setting and literally ‘created’ that world the others are trapped in…”
Bromwell grinned
faintly. “The Mysterons have powers
you can’t even dream of possessing…
Let alone start to understand. ”
“I hate it when you
Mysterons get melodramatic like that,” Fawn muttered.
But Blue was shaking
his head dismissively. “You couldn’t have had access to all those components
like that, Bromwell,” he said harshly. “It’s impossible that you would have been
able to do so without your efforts being discovered by
security or Cloudbase’s automatic safety features.” He nodded abruptly in Rochester’s direction. “Neither you nor
this guy could gain all the necessary access codes to all the safety locks you
would have run up against, looking for those components – let alone to access
the life-support controls systems, breach them and send your crap through the
vents. That, before being able to ‘rewire’ – as you said it – the environment
systems?” Blue stared directly at Bromwell. “You had help, all right… But not only from the Mysterons.”
“Bromwell smiled
again. “You are a clever man… Not much gets by you, does it, Captain?”
“I have my moments,”
Blue growled.
“Yes,” Bromwell
acknowledged then, with a shrug. “I
will admit it… I had some help to breach the security systems. Some very useful help.”
“How?” Fawn asked suddenly. “To breach that kind of security, you
needed to gain access to…”
“The Control Room, of
course,” Bromwell confirmed.
“Someone from the
Control Room helped you?” Fawn
repeated, opening eyes wide with astonishment.
He could see that Blue had already figured that out, by the grimness
displayed on his features. But Fawn
was still sceptical. “Who…?”
“Who else but the
Control Room duty officer at the time?”
Blue paled. “Green…?”
“Green was at the
sickbay Room of Sleep when it all started. Helping to transform it into an FX
Room.” The new voice coming from
the door made Blue and Fawn turn in that direction. There was a newcomer standing in front of the closing
doorway. He was dressed in a dark
red uniform and was looking at them from under his cap visor, with cold,
unconcerned eyes.
“Lieutenant
Burgundy?” Blue said with a frown, recognising one of Lieutenant Green’s usual
replacements at the central computer.
“So you’re in it too?”
“Correct, Earthman,” Burgundy said, approaching
with a quiet step.
Blue tensed.
He’s a Mysteron, like the others, he realised.
Of course. There could be no other way to explain how faithful Spectrum
personnel – like these three men were supposed to be – would turn against their
colleagues.
“It was easy for
Sergeant Rochester to kill Lieutenant Burgundy, before he could start his duty
stint at the main computer,” Bromwell explained. “Aside from the opportunity, he was perfect. Burgundy has been part of Lieutenant
Green’s team of auxiliaries almost since the beginning. His knowledge of Cloudbase Control is second to no-one’s on
base – except maybe Green himself.”
“… And Captain
Magenta,” Blue corrected.
“… And Colonel
White,” Fawn added obligingly.
Bromwell nodded his
acknowledgement. “So now you
understand how easy it was for us to disable the security failsafes and gain
access to wherever we wanted to go within any of Cloudbase’s systems. We were
able to imprison everyone, without anyone noticing it before it was too late. We even blocked Angel One on deck, so
she won’t be able to take off and escape.”
“You think you’ve thought of everything, don’t
you?” Blue said roughly. A thought suddenly hit him.
Angel One… The craft was to be manned constantly, so that meant that someone
was in it when the attack began. The pilot might have realised that something
was wrong, and would have been safe from the gas, in the cockpit of her craft. He turned to the screen. There were
three Angels there… Destiny, Melody, Symphony…
Of course, he realised. Those who were
playing the Valkyries in that fantasy world…
Harmony was probably the one in Angel One, then… She had not been included in the
fantasy.
“Don’t get your hopes
up too high, Captain,” Bromwell then said. His eyes were fixed on Blue and he
probably suspected the Spectrum captain was preparing a plan of action. ”We
disabled all communications systems. No distress messages were sent. No one is even aware of what has
happened to Cloudbase, so don’t expect any outside help.”
“Before long, someone
is bound to suspect something’s happened,” Blue warned. “Cloudbase will fail to report, as it
regularly should – or to answer calls.
And then they will investigate…”
“By then, it might be
far too late for you or your colleagues, Captain.”
Blue was still
staring at the screen. “What have you done with the pilot of
Angel One?” he finally asked. “And
with Captain Scarlet? I can’t see
them anywhere.”
“Don’t worry; they’ve
been taken care of.”
That sounded terribly
ominous to Blue’s and Fawn’s ears.
“What have you done with them?”
Blue repeated with insistence.
There was a short
pause, and Bromwell apparently considered his answer. “As I told you, Lieutenant
Burgundy blocked Angel One on deck,” he said finally. “The systems are all down. That means that the pilot is
trapped inside, unable to do anything.”
“So she’s no threat
to you.”
“She certainly is
not,” Burgundy answered nonchalantly.
He checked his watch. “…And
especially since about half an hour ago, now.”
Blue frowned, not
quite understanding what Burgundy meant.
“What happened, a half hour ago?” he asked, almost dreading to learn the
answer.
“The oxygen in her
cockpit ran out, I’m afraid…”
The carelessness with
which Burgundy had made this statement left Captain Blue and Doctor Fawn
completely horrified.
“Oh God, Harmony…”
Fawn whispered, blanching.
Blue had also turned
pale; but his horror was mixed with a good dose of anger. And guilt. He couldn’t
believe that he had neglected worrying about the quiet and gentle Chinese pilot
up until just a few minutes ago.
She had probably died a hideous death, choking until she couldn’t breathe
anymore, not understanding what was happening to her, why it was happening. Blue exchanged a glance with Fawn and
could see the shock and grief in the doctor’s features.
As for himself, he
was truly repulsed.
“You murderer…” he growled, eyes flashing, and stepped
toward Burgundy.
Rochester just needed
to raise his gun to stop him in his tracks.
Blue stayed where he was, glaring furiously, first at Burgundy, then at
each of the other two Mysteron agents.
“Don’t think you’ll get away with this,” he said between his teeth.
“I didn’t think that
proffering empty threats was your style, Captain,” Bromwell remarked with
cynicism. “How disappointing of
you.”
“Where is Captain
Scarlet?” Blue asked suddenly.
There was still the matter of his friend’s and colleague’s fate to consider. And none of the Mysterons had told him
so far what had happened to him.
What they had learned just now concerning Harmony wasn’t really that reassuring
for Scarlet…
Bromwell slowly
walked away from the monitor. The bastard is taking his time, Blue
reflected. He doesn’t look like he wants to tell us…
“We had to take…
special measures with Captain Scarlet,” the Mysteron finally announced.
“Meaning exactly…?”
Blue was now very suspicious.
“If you’re wondering
if your friend is alive or not, I’ll reassure you, Captain Blue: he is very much alive.”
“I want to see him.”
“Unfortunately,
Captain – that isn’t possible.
You’ll have to content yourself with my word that he is alive.”
Blue tensed, feeling
more apprehensive than ever. Why don’t they want to show us Scarlet? What have they done to him?
Fawn grunted. “How can we believe you?” he snapped, in
answer to Bromwell’s statement,
“Scarlet has been a pain in the Mysterons’ side since day one of this
‘war of nerves’ they declared against us.
You’re telling us you’d pass up the chance of getting definitely rid of
him?!”
“Do you want proof of
what I’m saying?” Bromwell
retorted. “You have both seen him,
in that fantasy world. Playing a
role, like the others.” He smirked. “…And believing every minute of it.”
“Just like everyone
else,” Burgundy remarked.
"Your friend’s
survival – all of your colleagues’ survival – rests in your hands, Captain
Blue,” Bromwell continued. “They
will die, if you do not play our game.
Your colleagues are trapped within the fake reality that was created for them –
totally unaware of who and what they are…”
He tilted his head to the side.
“… And of the danger hanging over their heads.”
“What kind of
danger?” Blue asked. “What do your
Mysteron masters have in mind, this time?”
"You heard the
content of their threat when you woke up earlier, no?"
Blue frowned, trying
to recall the exact words he had heard.
"Something about 'Ragnarok'…" he muttered.
"That's the end of
the world, according to Viking legends, isn't it?" Fawn asked in concern.
Bromwell ignored his
interruption. "If you want to save
your friends, it will be your task to try and stop Ragnarok from coming to the
Aesgard world," he told Blue.
"If you should fail…"
He let the rest hang.
"That world will
die?" Blue finished, with a deepening frown.
"And your colleagues will die," Bromwell
continued. “I mean… not only in the Aesgard world. But truly die.”
Fawn scoffed. "This is just a silly 3D game," he
retorted curtly. "Whatever happens
in that fake world is purely on a subconscious level. It can't harm anyone…"
"You mean, it can't
harm anyone physically? Are you so
certain of that?" Fawn hesitated.
Bromwell grinned maliciously, looking at the two Spectrum officers one after the
other. "Anyone
who dies in this 'fake world' – will die for real,” he repeated with
self-confidence. “For any
participant of this ‘silly 3D game’, Doctor – it will truly be 'game over' –
once and for all.”
"You can't be
serious," growled Fawn. “And we
truly are to believe you on this?"
"So far, Doctor, I
haven’t lied to you. They will die, believe me." Bromwell marked a dramatic pause, before
adding, in a tone of ominous promise:
“Even your oh-so-reliable Captain Scarlet… His relative invulnerability will be of no help in this
matter. When his subconscious mind
dies in Aesgard, he will also die in
reality. With no hope of ever returning.”
He smiled wickedly. “Or do
you prefer to believe I am bluffing?
In that case you are condemning everyone on Cloudbase.”
Fawn was about to
protest loudly, when Blue put a calming hand on his shoulder to stop him saying
something he might regret. It wasn’t really wise to anger their captors, at this
point. Not when they were learning
much of what was going on. "Let's not forget this world was created by the
Mysterons," Blue reminded the physician.
Fawn marked a pause.
"Quite," he conceded, “which is an aberration in itself.
Why did they create this world in the first place, and trap everyone in it,
instead of killing us all, while we are at their mercy?" He addressed a murderous look to Bromwell. "And now they’re giving us a chance to
get out of this trap of theirs? Why?"
"Isn't it obvious,
Earthmen?" Bromwell said ominously.
“It might be obvious
to you,” Fawn rumbled. “But it’s
not bloody well obvious to me!”
Bromwell sighed and
rolled his eyes, like a teacher would when facing a very stubborn pupil. "By making all the personnel on
Cloudbase believe themselves to be part of this world, the Mysterons want,
before striking the fatal blow, to demonstrate that your much-vaunted 'advanced
civilisation' has not changed much since the beginning of your race. Deep inside, you are still the same
savage barbarians of centuries past – your life still very much guided by your
most basic instincts..."
"That is a matter of
opinion," Blue growled.
"Try to deny,
Captain, that you didn't feel any
surprise by seeing how easily your colleagues –
even
your so composed colonel – settled into their new roles of brutal and
uncivilised Viking warriors," Bromwell said with a wicked smile. "It must have been quite a shock to you.
Especially considering your own lineage…”
"I will not deny nor
admit anything," Blue retorted.
“And was my ‘lineage’ the reason why you chose me to take up this…
‘challenge’ of yours? Because this
is what we’re talking about, isn’t it?”
“Call it what you
will, Captain… This ‘challenge’
could very well be the end of all the people living in Spectrum. You stop Ragnarok from happening – and
they’ll live. But quite frankly, I
doubt very much that you’ll be able to succeed.”
“How much time do I
have to ‘stop Ragnarok’?” Blue asked with annoyance, not willing to answer the
Mysteron’s obvious gloat.
Bromwell raised a
brow. “How long do you think your
friends are likely to survive in this unconscious state, without sustenance,
before their health becomes endangered?
That is – if Ragnarok doesn’t
kill them first.”
“You always like to
put pressure on, don’t you?” Fawn mumbled in an undertone.
“Assuming that I’ll
accept this challenge,” Blue continued,
“What will happen if I stop Ragnarok from happening?”
“If you were to succeed… everybody will
simply wake up from their induced sleep.
Alive and well. Those who
haven’t died, that is.”
“As simple as that?”
a suspicious Fawn asked. “What
about the gas?”
“The gas is starting
to dissipate, as we speak, Doctor.
Not that it is of any use right now.
No one will be able to wake up before the end of this experiment, but, if they
don’t die before you succeed – if you
succeed – they will wake. Not that
that is a very likely outcome.”
“You’re full of optimism, aren’t you,
Bromwell?” Fawn remarked with disdain.
“And we are to take your word for it, that you will let all of these
people go free if Captain Blue succeeds in his mission?”
“You have my word.”
“Well, I don’t trust you,” Fawn snorted.
“You don’t count,
Doctor. The decision is Captain
Blue’s alone.” Bromwell looked in
Blue’s direction. Blue kept silent,
glaring at the three Mysterons, weighing his options.
“So are you up to the… ‘challenge’, Captain Blue? Are you ready to go back to Aesgard
world and try to stop this new threat from the Mysterons?”
“It’s not like you’re
leaving me much choice, is it?” Blue grumbled.
“Quite frankly,
knowing your dedication to Spectrum, it would surprise me if you refused the
challenge, Captain.”
“Mmm… Am I to act alone?” He was looking in Fawn’s direction.
“The only other
person who still remembers about the real world and who she really is, is
Rhapsody Angel. I’m sure she’ll
feel duty-bound to help you.” Bromwell shrugged dismissively. “You can
always
try to convince the others… But
I doubt you’ll succeed in making them see the truth. In their present state of mind, it would be a difficult
concept to grasp… They will think you
are mad.” He glanced at Fawn. “The good doctor will not join you in
this… adventure. He’ll be staying
with us. In the real world.”
“I’m to be a hostage
then, to make sure Captain Blue behaves?” Fawn demanded matter-of-factly.
“You might think that
if you wish, Doctor. But I thought
you’d like to monitor the health of all your ‘patients’ – while the captain and
the Angel are away performing their… mission.”
“You’re just planning
to play with me – like a cat with a mouse,” Fawn groused. “Watching me squirm, as I watch them all
die one by one…”
“Unfortunately for
you, Doctor,” Bromwell said ominously, “that’s an eventuality that just might happen.”
“I’d like to discuss
this with Doctor Fawn,” Blue suddenly demanded, in a firm voice. “Alone. Without any of you watching over
us.”
Bromwell stared at
Blue with curiosity. Then he exchanged looks with both Burgundy and Rochester,
as if asking for their opinion on the subject.
Both of the other Mysteron agents shrugged, as if they didn’t care about
the seriousness of Blue’s demand.
“I don’t see how it
could cause any problems,” Bromwell finally said. “In any case, your mission is doomed to fail. Consider this the last request of a
condemned man.”
“Because when
Ragnarok comes to Aesgard, I will die too, like all the others, right?” Blue asked casually. “Somehow, coming from the Mysterons,
that doesn’t surprise me.”
Bromwell simply
stared at him coldly, not deigning to answer the remark. “Take them to Doctor Fawn’s office,” he
ordered the other Mysterons, his eyes still not leaving Blue. He addressed the Spectrum agents again: “I give you five minutes, gentlemen.”
Docilely, under the
threat of two guns trained on them,
both Blue and Fawn let themselves be taken to Fawn’s personal office nearby.
They were pushed inside, and the door was closed behind them.
They heard the lock being pulled and could see, though the frosted window, the
shadow of the Mysteronised men as they stood guard in front of their new prison.
Fawn immediately went to his desk and pressed the command button of his
comm.link… only to discover that it was dead.
He then turned to his computer and tried to access the communication programs. The message ‘Access denied’ flashed on
his screen.
“Damn,” he murmured.
“Still not working.”
“Still?”
Blue asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
“From the moment I
woke up until about half an hour before
you
woke up, they kept me locked in here,” Fawn explained. “I’ve already tried using the comm. and
the computer, without any success.
Those Mysterons thought of everything…”
“Did they?” Blue picked up a sharp letter-opener
lying on Fawn’s desk and showed it to the physician.
The latter grunted with bad humour, while approaching his colleague.
“I doubt this would
be much of a weapon to stop three Mysteron agents, armed with guns,” he noted,
tapping the blade with his forefinger.
“Oh, I don’t know…
There’s a lot you can do with a blade like this one.”
Blue’s hand suddenly
took hold of Fawn’s extended wrist, imprisoning it in a strong grip. A surprised Fawn opened his eyes wide
with surprise, when he saw Blue pull the hand towards himself, and then bring
the blade to the open palm.
“What are you
doing?!” he snapped in alarm. “Blue, are you crazy? Stop!”
He struggled, but was unable to stop Blue from stoically cutting his
hand. Fawn let out a yelp,
more of surprise than pain, as blood started pouring through the fresh wound. He pulled hard to free himself, but Blue
simply released him. Fawn grabbed a
paper tissue from the box on his desk and started to wipe his wounded hand.
“You are out of your
mind!” he snapped again, raising angry eyes at Blue. “What did you hope to achieve?”
“Prove that you
weren’t a Mysteron,” Blue replied, shaking his head quietly. “Admit it; it was suspicious that they
would allow me to talk to you in private… without any surveillance. Unless you were working for them. I had to make sure you were on the
level.”
“Oh, right! By cutting one of my fingers off and
putting my surgical career in jeopardy?”
Blue rolled his eyes.
“Don’t panic, Doc… I hardly wanted to
cut off one of your fingers. It’s
just a little cut.”
“A little cut that
can get infected. I will have to
clean that up…” Fawn examined the
wound, grimacing. Blue looked at it
too, a smile starting to form on his lips.
It was still bleeding. Fawn noticed
his expression.
“Well, I hope you’re
satisfied,” he growled.
“I am…”
“You’re a maniac,
Blue. Beside, this little
experiment of yours was useless…
You know as well as I do that not all Mysteron agents are retrometabolic. This wound might bleed, but it doesn’t mean I’m not a Mysteron.”
“Maybe not. But your attitude sure means it.” Blue’s smile was faint but genuine. He pointed to the injured hand, that
Fawn was wrapping in the handkerchief.
“If you had been a Mysteron, you would have used this bleeding wound as proof,
and claimed that you were not one.
Instead of being your usual self and pointing out that it wasn’t really proof…
as you just did.”
Fawn glared at him.
“Somehow, somewhere in that thick skull of yours, I’m sure that argument makes a
lot of sense,” he grumbled.
Blue shook his head
and handed the letter-opener to Fawn.
“Here. You were right; it
isn’t much of a weapon… But keep it
anyway. It might save your life, if it comes to
it.”
Fawn nodded briefly,
and, taking the blade, put it inside his vest, where it would be inconspicuous.
“How do you reckon these Mysterons came onboard?”
he said, quickly changing the subject, and looking up at Blue again.
Blue shrugged. “The explanation might be very simple. Consider that one of them died
accidentally or naturally – he could have killed the others, to make them his
accomplices.”
“Then they put their
plan into motion,” Fawn said, pensively. “Yes… that must be how it went. We did
learn that it was Rochester who killed Burgundy… That’s about all we know on that subject.”
“We only have five
minutes, Doc,” Blue reminded him.
“So we’d better not lose any more time, or someone else might die. We already lost too many – amongst them,
Harmony.” Blue marked a silent
pause, looking sombre at the thought of the deceased Angel. Fawn put his good hand on his broad shoulder and squeezed it
with empathy.
“They won’t get away
with this,” the physician promised.
“They’ll pay for her death.”
“I do intend to make
them pay for all they’ve done,” growled Blue.
He shook himself. They
didn’t have much time. They
couldn’t allow themselves to be distracted by their feelings, he reminded
himself.
There would be time later to mourn… “What do you make of it, Doc? Do you think what Bromwell said is true?
If someone dies in Aesgard – will he also die… in the real world?”
“You said it yourself: this world is the work of the Mysterons.
We don’t know a thing about many aspects of their powers.”
Fawn shook his head. “Do we dare take the risk and assume they’re lying?”
“So they might be
able to make Ragnarok happen – and then everyone will die?”
“What does ‘Ragnarok’
mean, exactly?”
“It’s the ‘Twilight
of the gods’, Edward. When Aesgard
is destroyed and everyone dies, in a final battle against the Forces of Evil. In
effect – for the Vikings – it meant the end of the World.”
Fawn became sombre.
“I hate it when I’m right,” he whispered.
“And how does this ‘Ragnarok’ happen? You said – a ‘battle against the
Forces of Evil?’ ”
“I’m not sure – my
memories of those legends are rather vague.
It’s been a long time since I read about them. I was only a child. There was a catalyst, though… It has something to do with Balder, if
I’m not mistaken.”
“Balder? You mean… Scarlet?”
Blue nodded slowly.
“Why do you think Bromwell didn’t want to show us Scarlet?
Or to tell us what they actually did to him?
Don’t you find it suspicious?”
“I found it damned
worrying, if you want me to tell you the truth. I just hope he is
alive – and well. Wherever he might
be.”
Blue sighed. “He has to be. For the time being.
I think the Mysterons might need him – somehow.
To carry out this new threat of theirs.”
“Blue, how can you
say that?” Fawn protested. “You know Scarlet would never…”
“I don’t mean
willingly, Doc,” Blue interrupted.
“I mean: he might be the catalyst
they need.” He shook his head
pensively. “Like Balder was the catalyst for the
Ragnarok…” He frowned, as if
something had hit him, as an after-thought.
“… Or was it Loki?”
“Loki?”
“The evildoer of
Aesgard… Doc, you won’t believe it.
In this fantasy world – it’s Captain Black.”
Fawn stared at Blue
in deep silence, with a blank expression on his face, obviously stunned by the
news; he finally reacted, by taking a deep intake of breath.
“So he’s involved in this too, then. We should have known.”
“I’m positive it was
Black himself,” Blue insisted. “Not
some kind of… ‘creation’ of this silly game.”
“Which would mean
he’s somewhere on board Cloudbase,” Fawn noted.
“I think the same… if
he was subjected to the same treatment as all of us.” Blue went pensive. “That would mean he’s probably unconscious like the others…
defenceless. Imagine: that would be an ideal occasion to
finally capture him.”
“Blue, your
dedication is certainly admirable… but I honestly think our priority should be
to free ourselves first,” Fawn commented.
“Then we might consider what we’ll do with
Captain Black. If he is indeed here and if we can find him.”
“I’m sure he is,”
Blue retorted with conviction.
Fawn shook his head.
“We didn’t see him on any of the cameras.
If he’s here, they’re hiding him.”
“Like they’re hiding
Scarlet.”
“The last time I saw
Scarlet, he was in the auxiliary Room of Sleep, in sickbay,” Fawn said
thoughtfully. “Where the colonel,
Ochre, Magenta, Grey and Green are at the moment.”
“Those Mysteron
agents must have moved him, then,” Blue noted.
“So you might be
right in thinking either Scarlet or Black might be the catalyst to this… Ragnarok thing.” Fawn paused. “Or, in the case of Scarlet… could he be the solution?”
Blue offered a faint
smile. “Like he so often is, Doc? I
wish it was that simple…”
“Well, maybe it is a
possibility to consider, don’t you think?
You can try to get through to him in the fantasy world – no matter what
these Mysterons say, they might have lied.
Maybe you’ll be able to get him to see reason.”
“I can try… At least I’ll be able to count on
Rhapsody’s help as well. Together,
we might be able to decipher this… insane riddle.”
“And I’ll be stuck
here, a hostage, unable to do anything,” Fawn grunted. “They’ll probably lock me in here, like
before. If I was free to move
about… I could try to find where Scarlet – and Black – are hidden.” He looked regretfully at his computer
screen. “I wonder if I would be able to
access the surveillance cameras from here?
That would make the search easier.
And also – if I’m able to gain access to Worldnet too, I would do some
research; to find out all I can on ‘Aesgard’ and ‘Ragnarok’ – and then pass the
info on to you…”
“I doubt you’d be
able to do that, Doc,” Blue retorted.
“The Mysterons won’t leave you without surveillance. Or – they will restrict all your access
to the computer databanks.”
“I think these
Mysterons don’t consider me a real threat, Captain,” Fawn snorted derisively.
“They left me pretty much by myself earlier.
And – I might be able to crack the security code they used to lock the accesses. I may not be Magenta or Green, but… I
know a thing or two about computers.
And I imagine that their lock won’t be as secure on the cameras and the Worldnet
as it is on communications. Their
main concern, more than anything else, would be that we don’t contact anyone.”
Blue raised a
doubtful brow. “Assuming you
can do that… how would you be able to contact me, while I’m in that fantasy
world? Frankly, I don’t…”
He stopped suddenly,
interrupted by sounds behind the door.
Someone was unlocking it; their five minutes were obviously up. Quickly, Fawn leaned over his desk and
opened the first drawer, removing a small gleaming object from inside, that he
swiftly put into his vest pocket.
Blue couldn’t see what it was and didn’t have time to ask. The door was now sliding open, and Burgundy and Rochester
appeared in the opening, their guns trained on them.
“It is time,”
Burgundy announced icily. “You must
come with us, both of you.”
Both Spectrum agents
left the office, and under the threat of the two guns, returned to the room they
were previously in. Bromwell was
waiting for them, standing next to the empty bed, waiting.
“Did you change your
mind then?” Fawn demanded as they both approached. “Am I to go too?”
Bromwell smiled
thinly. “No, Doctor Fawn. I know you never were too keen on the
‘Room of Sleep’ technology… And this… experiment we’re pursuing, as you know,
uses some of the same processes. So
I’m putting your mind at rest.” He
paused for a short second. “As a
doctor, you will make sure your friend is safe, while we put him under and send
him back into the Aesgard world.
Then you will know the Mysterons are true to their word, contrary to what you
might believe.”
“There isn’t much you
can say that would make me change my mind about the Mysterons,” retorted Fawn
coldly.
Bromwell ignored the
remark. He gestured toward the
monitors set over Rhapsody’s bed, where she was still sleeping; they were
beeping steadily. “As you can see,
the Angel pilot is still in good health.
There seems to be a little nervousness, as indicated by some of the lines, but
then… considering the situation, I think it is normal, don’t you think?”
“The kid must be
thinking she’s going crazy,” Fawn said with a scowl.
“Captain Blue…” Bromwell motioned to the empty bed, and
Blue felt the muzzle of a gun pressing against his back. “If you would take your place now…”
Blue didn’t really
need any incentive; nor did he hesitate further. His decision was made. He sat down on the bed, and willingly
laid himself on it, stretching his long body to get into a comfortable position. He only started feeling a little uneasy
when he felt the restraints being put back on him.
I feel like I’m putting my head into the lion’s mouth,
he reflected.
But what other choice do I have but to agree to go?
Following Bromwell’s invitation, Fawn himself prepared the
electrodes and expertly applied them on Blue’s body. Their cold touch against his bare skin made Blue quiver, but
he didn’t say anything. He was
mentally preparing himself for the upcoming experiment.
While Fawn was busying himself, under the watchful eyes of
Rochester and Burgundy, Bromwell was preparing a syringe, taking a blue liquid
from a small bottle on a nearby table.
As Fawn finished placing the last electrode on Blue’s forehead, Bromwell
handed him the needle. He took note
of the worried look on the doctor’s face.
“Don’t worry, Doctor.
This will only put your friend to sleep… and will permit him to smoothly
enter the realm of Aesgard.”
“Go ahead, Doc,” Blue said in an assured tone. “I’m ready.”
Fawn nodded, with still a little uncertainty, and leaned over
Blue’s forearm. Blue’s eyes were
looking upward, and as he felt the puncture on his arm and felt the drug enter
his bloodstream, he could see Bromwell pushing buttons on the monitor. Multicoloured lights from the projectors
above his head started dancing.
The injection was barely finished before Fawn’s hand took his,
and Blue felt something cold and metallic that discreetly slid around his middle
finger. A ring, he realised.
He wondered what it was about, but kept silent, and Fawn encouragingly squeezed
his hand, and he squeezed back, making the gesture appear as natural as
possible.
“Good luck,” Fawn told him in a near-whisper. “You will need it.”
Blue briefly nodded, as he could see the projector being
lowered, and he now could only see the hypnotic lights. His mind was already fogging.
“See you later, Doc…” he slurred.
Then he fell deeply asleep.
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