June 27th 2071, 15:17 Greenwich Mean Time, Prime Timeline, Colonel White’s Office, Cloudbase
“Aw, come on man, give me a break!” The younger man was becoming increasingly distressed at the older man’s intransigence.
“Professor Carberry,” said the older man gently, “I am sorry, but I can under no circumstances release any malachandrite to you.” The older man was Colonel White, Commander-in-Chief of the World peace-keeping organisation, Spectrum. It had been almost four years since Spectrum was established in July 2067 and, while that time had known more than its fair share of hardship and pain, few of his duties had caused Colonel White as much heartache as giving a refusal to this earnest younger man.
“Uncle Charles, please...” The younger man was Abel Carberry, the inaugural Professor of Temporal Physics at the University of Ottawa. He was one of a number of brilliant young scientists working to develop sustainable models of time-travel. He had become aware that Spectrum was developing a new and cleaner alternative to nuclear energy for their Pursuit Vehicles and Interceptors through ground-breaking work on one of the Martian rocks brought back from the ill-fated Zero-X expedition.
“Professor Carberry... Abel,” interrupted Colonel White, “my friendship with your late father has always been very special to me and it is the only reason why you were permitted to bring your petition to me personally on Cloudbase. Out of respect for him and affection for you, I wanted to tell you face-to-face rather than sending you the blanket refusal requests like yours tend to receive.”
Abel’s shoulders slumped in defeat and his head dropped into his hands. Taking a deep cleansing breath to prevent himself from openly weeping in the presence of a man he has known and idolised since he was a little boy, he said dejectedly, “There is nothing on planet Earth that can power the prototype of my machine... we are almost there.” He shook his head and whispered into his hands, “I was so close. The malachandrite was my last hope.”
“Malachandrite is the only decent thing to have come out of that wretched expedition to Mars,” said Colonel White archly. “In the end, it cost me two of my best men...” He paused briefly. White’s mind went back to a day many years previously, long before the Mysterons, long before Spectrum, long before the good man called Conrad Turner was turned into the Mysteron agent known as Captain Black, when Turner had risked everything to saved his life. After a moment, White continued, “...and it has led to this damned war of nerves with the Mysterons.”
Carberry scoffed loudly. “Bloody urban myth, that. Little green men making threats and impersonating people. Load of rubbish. I can’t believe that you of all people buying into that crap...”
Colonel White’s demeanour changed instantly and the temperature within his voice dipped well below freezing. “Professor Carberry, this meeting is terminated.” Reaching over to the intercom, he pressed a button and barked, “Captain Grey, report to my office immediately. My meeting with Professor Carberry is over. Please can you escort him to the Spectrum Passenger Jet. He is just leaving.”
“S.I.G.” Carberry’s mouth fell open as Captain Grey’s disembodied voice echoed round the room. Colonel White’s office was very much like the man himself...well-organised, functional, formal, no-nonsense. Carberry closed his mouth, exhaling ruefully.
Looking up from the intercom, White continued in a slightly more conciliatory tone. “The Mysterons are very real, Abel. You of all people can trust me on that.” He sighed. “Look... I am genuine sorry that I cannot help you with your research. You are an intelligent and impressive young man, but I will not be lectured by you on things you know nothing about.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle Charles.” Abel might have been the proud possessor of every level of university degree including two doctorates evaluating hypotheses that had never even been articulated before, but Charles Gray, former Naval hero, previously Director of Universal Secret Service and his late father’s best friend, was one of the few people who could reduce him to feeling like a schoolboy again. “I just thought that might have been the key...” His voice trailed off in defeat.
“It could well have been, Abel, but all of the malachandrite brought back from Mars has been earmarked in its entirety for Spectrum scientific research.” White breathed deeply. “I’m sorry too.”
Colonel White looked up as the office door slid open. Captain Grey peered in and smiled, “Professor Carberry, please can you come with me.” Abel looked lost as he stood up. “Thank you for your time, Colonel White. It was really great seeing you again...thank you for telling me to my face,” he said finally.
“Please give my regards to your mother and sister,” said Colonel White, much more warmly. “I am sure that your father would be very proud of the man you have become.” Abel smiled mirthlessly, said nothing, and followed Captain Grey out of the office. The door slid shut and Colonel White immediately busied himself with the papers and reports on his desk. He pressed a second button on the intercom system and said crisply, “Lieutenant Green, please report to my office at once...”
Carberry and Captain Grey walked without conversation to the hangar below decks in Cloudbase. Grey reflected thoughtfully that there were many people who walked out of that office exactly as Carberry was doing, himself included! I wonder what all that was about, he thought, but chose not to break the heavy silence.
They reached the security door of the hangar where the sleek, blue Spectrum Passenger Jet was waiting to take Carberry from Cloudbase, six miles up in the sky, back to terra firma. Captain Grey reached out his hand. “Good luck,” he said pleasantly.
“Thanks,” said Carberry flatly, “but I think my luck just ran out.” Carberry boarded the plane without shaking his hand.
October 27th 2071, 19:07 Greenwich Mean Time, Prime Timeline, Dow’s Lake, Ottawa
Three hours later, Carberry opened the door to his stylish apartment in the upmarket Dow’s Lake area of Ottawa and dragged himself over the threshold. He absently poured himself a double shot of whiskey which he downed in one gulp, before slumping into an easy chair with another in his hand. He was about to reach for the videcaster remote when suddenly, he was acutely aware that he was not alone. “Who’s there? Show yourself. I’ve got a gun,” he said, rummaging frantically in the coffee table drawer.
A sepulchral voice intoned from his bedroom, “I can get you all the malachandrite you need.” The voice was male and sounded like it belonged in a mausoleum.
Abel picked up his weapon, looked up and pointed it in the general direction of the voice. “What? Who are you? Show yourself!” Never having ever fired his pistol before, he stepped back awkwardly, still darting looks towards the source of the creepy voice in the bedroom.
“You do not need to know who I am,” continued the voice in the sinister monotone. “I represent... a group of people who are very interested in your work around temporal physics... very interested indeed. I repeat. I have access to as much malachandrite as you need.”
Abel’s curiosity was piqued, but he remained uncertain. He stammered, “Yeah... ok... maybe... but what do you want in return? Nobody’s gonna give me the rarest mineral on Earth without at least some strings attached...”
“No strings, Professor Carberry.” The voice was trying to sound soothing, but that just came across to Abel as how a giant snake might speak to you before swallowing you whole without raising its blood pressure too much. “My... clients merely wish to see you succeed,” said the voice. Abel broke into a cold sweat. When things seem to be too good to be true, they generally weren’t! Who was this guy? Who were his clients? Why wouldn’t he show his face? Why did he sound like he was dead?
The grim voice broke into his reverie, “Go to your office.”
Abel looked doubtfully at the office door. “What...Why?”
“A sign of good faith...”
Abel opened the office door. On the desk was a rectangular metal box. Setting the pistol down, he undid the two chrome clasps and gingerly started to open the box, bracing himself as he was fully expecting it to blow up in his face. He relaxed a little when nothing actually happened, so he slowly opened the box fully. “What the hell...” Abel stared at the strangely glowing rocks set into a foam rubber insert and gasped. He ran back into his lounge, neglecting to pick up his gun and barrelled recklessly into the bedroom to confront his unusual benefactor, only to find it empty...
On the street below, the cold eyes of the man once known as Conrad Turner looked up with contentment at the windows of Carberry’s apartment as every light went on and off in succession. Dressed entirely in black...polo-necked jumper, trousers and leather trench coat...he looked as comfortable stepping out of a grave as his voice sounded. The dark figure could have easily been missed standing in the shadows, blending in almost seamlessly with the darkness. His face was an unhealthy grey pallor, with several days beard growth on his chin. Nobody saw the darkly clad man appear from thin air outside the apartment block and certainly nobody saw it when the man now known Captain Black faded from sight just as suddenly, like the remnants of a bad dream in the morning.
It took several months working in secrecy and a multitude of tests on the malachandrite later before Carberry had successfully refined and recut the stones to make them suitable for insertion into the power unit of his prototype time platform. Carberry caught his reflection in the mirror. You look like the wreck of the Hesperus, he thought distractedly, eyeing up the unshaven, dishevelled and gaunt figure reflected there. He was hardly sleeping and barely eating. His complexion had paled almost unnaturally, not unlike that of his mysterious benefactor. Although his eyes were sunken in, there was still a bright intensity present and a quickness of mind he had never known before. He truly felt awesome. He was ready.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 13:53 Greenwich Mean Time, Prime Timeline, The Lounge, Cloudbase
In Cloudbase, Spectrum agents Captain Scarlet and Captain Blue were enjoying an unusually quiet day in the Lounge over a cup of coffee, just before the fourteen-hundred afternoon briefing with Colonel White. A veteran of the World Aeronautic Society, Captain Blue was born Adam Svenson to a wealthy family in Boston Massachusetts in the United States of America. His best friend and closest colleague was Paul Metcalfe, British born and from a family with a long and illustrious military pedigree. He was code-named Captain Scarlet and, unusually for such a close friendship, he had been killed by Captain Blue five years previously.
Captain Scarlet was one of the three Spectrum agents adversely impacted by the Zero-X expedition to Mars. Conrad Turner, Captain Black, had been in command of the mission and it was at his command that the Spectrum vehicle destroyed the Mysteron Complex located on the red planet. The Mysterons had initially looked forward to welcoming the first visitors to their Martian citadel for many centuries. It was a massive error of judgement that led to Black issuing the order to open fire...and it would be one that would have serious repercussions for the inhabitants of planet Earth. The Mysterons responded to the unprovoked attack by waging a tense war of nerves with the Earthmen, ironically spearheaded by Captain Black himself, who now served the Mysterons.
It was primarily Spectrum that stood in the breach, leading the response to the Mysterons’ continued aggression. The idea of Spectrum had initially been developed in the mid-2060s because of the need for some organisation to pick up the slack brought about by a whole raft of new threats that seemed to beset the human race on a daily basis.
The World Aquanaut Security Patrol took point in dealing with recently discovered non-human races who lived on the planet under the sea, many of whom were less than friendly to surface Terraneans. Outside of the Earth’s biosphere, the World Space Patrol responded to the challenges brought by extra-terrestrial life. This series of threats was also why the authorities had turned a blind eye to the activities of the mysterious vigilante group, International Rescue. They seemed benign enough and, so long as they did not pose a threat to the security of the world, the authorities cut them quite a bit of slack to do their thing, responding to emergencies and saving lives. To be fair, their track record was pretty impressive and nothing in their activities indicated that they were anything else other than altruistic. That was rare.
The Mysterons were something else entirely. They always issued a public warning before taking action. Nobody knew why. If the Mysterons had chosen to conduct open warfare against the people of Earth or undertook their guerrilla attacks without warning, it is unlikely that the Earth would have survived. Rather than allowing paranoia to run rampant, the administration of World President Younger took no action against those who chose to believe that the so-called “Mysteron threat” was nothing more than an urban myth, usually perpetuated by young people with too much time on their hands. Spectrum was therefore no sooner established that it found its raison d’être... to lead the fight against the Mysterons.
Captain Scarlet had died the first time in a car crash orchestrated by the Mysterons several hours before Captain Blue had killed him again. The Mysterons had issued their very first warning about how they were going to kill World President Younger. Spectrum agents Captain Scarlet and Captain Brown were assigned to protect him, but they were killed in the car crash. They were recreated by the Mysterons and charged with the task of carrying out the mission of killing the President.
Captain Brown had been turned into a walking bomb, waiting until he was alone with the President before striking. Thankfully, the President realised that something was amiss when smoke suddenly began to emerge from the Spectrum officer’s brown tunic and was just about able to save himself by activating emergency access to a safe room as Captain Brown detonated himself. Not knowing that Captain Scarlet had been mysteronised as well, Colonel White had tasked Scarlet with the ongoing role of protecting President Younger. This played entirely into the Mysterons’ hands and Scarlet planned to bring the mission of his Martian masters to a successful conclusion.
It was not until the bodies of Captains Scarlet and Brown were discovered in the wreckage of the Spectrum Saloon Car that Spectrum became fully aware of the Mysterons’ amazing power of retrometabolism. They truly did have the ability to recreate the exact likeness of a person or object. Once Captain Blue realised that Captain Scarlet had been slain by the Mysterons, he had no qualms in killing this thing that had taken over his friend’s body and was threatening the life of the World President.
After being shot by Captain Blue, Captain Scarlet plummeted to his death from the top of the London Car-Vu... before remarkably coming back to life again, free from Mysteron influence and control, with the man that he was previously in possession of a mysteronised body that now made him virtually indestructible. Over the following five years, Scarlet had died many more times in the service of Spectrum.
The two Captains sat in the Lounge in companionable silence savouring the smell and taste of good coffee, when an evil sounding voice unexpected echoed around the room and, indeed, every other room in Cloudbase.
“This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us Earthmen. We will continue to take our revenge on the people of Earth for the unprovoked attack on our Martian Complex. Spectrum has thwarted us on numerous occasions, but no more. We will destroy Spectrum in time.”
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 13:56 Greenwich Mean Time, Prime Timeline, The Department of Theoretical Temporal Physics, Ottawa
Abel Carberry looked in awe at the prototype time platform as the lights twinkled, the screens shone with life and the needles on the dials danced as the machine processed data. He placed his hand on the surface of the control panel and felt the thrum of life vibrate through his fingers. “It’s working...” He spoke audibly in hushed tones but started with an ironic laugh that his words sounded like a hollow, breathy rasp. Looking at his reflection on the shiny surface – yeah, he did look like something a cat had dragged all the way back from hell – but it had all been worth it. All he had to do now – ha, all... he laughed again – all he had to do was to write it all up. And to test it... he needed to test it as well.
His racing thoughts were interrupted by a voice he knew well and had not heard in several months. “Excellent work, Professor Carberry. You have done well. The Mysterons thank you for your service.” The voice was still as cold as the grave with subtones that were more than a little threatening and... was that... excitement?
Carberry balked as the face behind the voice came into view from the shadows. A pale grey face with a deathly pallor fit for Hallowe’en looked at him. Carberry stumbled back against a stack of chairs, knocking them over as he fell on the ground. “Who... what are you?” he stammered.
Looming over him, the dark, frightening man leered down at him and said, “You may call me...Captain Black.”
Carberry mouthed the words, but no sound emerged, “The Mysterons... they’re real?” Carberry looked aghast, his thoughts racing as reality kicked in...they were real...Uncle Charles was right... and they are from Mars. This guy... this Captain Black...he works for the Mysterons... but he looks so human... that’s how he could get his hands of the malachandrite that was native only to Mars...
“All too real, Earthman,” growled Captain Black in his unearthly tones, “see...” Carberry watched helplessly as the Mysteron agent pointed to two glowing circles of greenish light that seemed to appear out of nowhere and crawled towards the temporal platform as intentional as a tarantula towards its helpless prey. Carberry went to move, but Captain Black gestured towards him and said, “You may not move, Earthman. The Mysterons have no quarrel with you personally, but we will brook none of your interference.” Carberry was rooted to the spot. What manner of creatures are these things?
The green circles stopped on the control panel. Images on the screens began to flicker and to change. Dials began to display numbers that he had never even seen before. The scientist in him forgot the terror that he had been feeling up to now as he began to understand that the Mysterons were somehow laying in temporal coordinates. What could we learn from them?
Captain Black looked on intently and impassively. Then he nodded imperceptibly and said, “We are ready.” He opened his arms like a religious leader embracing the faithful as he addressed them, and he spoke in a voice that chilled Carberry even further to the bone.
“This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us Earthmen. We will continue to take our revenge on the people of Earth for the unprovoked attack on our Martian complex. Spectrum has thwarted us on numerous occasions, but no more. We will destroy Spectrum in time.”
“No!” shouted Carberry. “Where are you going? What are you going to do? Look, it hasn’t been tested yet...” Without a backward glance at Carberry, Captain Black stood on the platform and faded from sight as he had done so often before, but unbeknownst to him, this was to be only the first of many occasions he was to travel in time as well as in space. Carberry fell to his knees and screamed in anguish. He struggled to his feet and checked the temporal coordinates on the screen. He was gripped by terror as he realised that Captain Black was going no more than twenty years into the past. “Whatever you do, please don’t meet yourself in the past...it could be the death of us all.”
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 14:07 Greenwich Mean Time, Prime Timeline to Timeline 1, Conference Room, Cloudbase
Colonel White looked grim as he sat at the head of the table. Around the table sat the Cloudbase senior staff: Captains Scarlet, Blue, Grey, Magenta and Ochre; Senior Medical Officer Doctor Fawn; Destiny Angel and Lieutenant Green. White threw out a stream of questions. “What does all this mean? How will the Mysterons come against us? What do the Mysterons mean by ‘in time’? In time for what?”
The senior staff had sat in the same room, in the same way, so many times before, trying to work out what the Mysterons meant through their cryptic warning. However, it felt much different this time... this time it felt personal.
Captain Scarlet spoke up first. “Sir, they have given us absolutely nothing to go on this time. They will come for us, that is for sure, but how can we know where? And when? It could be here in Cloudbase...or maybe when we are off duty... what about while we are travelling? That was when they killed me the first time...” His voice tailed off and a puzzled look moved across his face.
The room then swam wildly in front of Captain Scarlet’s eyes and, groaning in pain, he collapsed on the table. Captain Blue leapt to his feet and moved with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Everyone seated at the table expected him to attend to his stricken friend. Unexpectedly, he darted to the armoury cabinet and drew out a Mysteron gun and pointed it around the room. Addressing Colonel White, he said, “If Captain Scarlet is feeling unwell, sir, it must be because one of us is a Mysteron. That is how Paul reacts in the presence of a Mysteron. It could be you, sir. It could be any of us.”
Colonel White looked at Captain Blue and said, “Put the pop gun down, Adam. We’re not going to get anywhere dishing out idle threats. Yeah, one of us could be a Mysteron, but let’s hear what Scarlet has to say for himself when he wakes up.”
Captain Scarlet looked visibly shaken but was recovering. He waved away Doctor Fawn, who was trying to inject him with a hypospray, looked up and said, “No, Adam, it’s not the same thi – ” His eyes lit on Colonel White. Slowly removing his gun from his holster, he pointed it at the figure in the hoverchair and said, “Who are you... and what have you done with Colonel White?”
The tense silence was broken by Destiny Angel’s lyrical French accent as she approached Scarlet, “Paul, zis ees Colonel White. Give me ze gun, mon beau, and we can talk, hein?” White nodded to Doctor Fawn who put the hypospray to Captain Scarlet’s neck and activated it. As Scarlet collapsed onto the chair, he breathed out the words, “...not Colonel White... not Charles Gray...” And the darkness took him.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 14:45 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 1, Conference Room, Cloudbase
Colonel White adjourned the meeting for a half an hour. As the senior staff started to file back into the room, speculation was high. “What on earth was all that about, Richard?” said Captain Magenta taking his seat.
“Not sure, Paddy,” replied Captain Ochre thoughtfully as he took the seat next to him, “one minute, Scarlet was speaking normally, then he went faint and the next thing I know is Blue thinks one of us is a Mysteron and then Scarlet pulls a gun on the colonel. Maybe it’s the Mysterons... maybe that’s how they are going to do it, getting us to turn on one another and destroy us from within. Still... I don’t get the ‘in time’ thing, though.”
“I am sorry about that, guys,” chimed in Captain Blue as he came back into the room and sat back down beside them. He looked somewhat chastened. “The Mysterons have gotten us all on edge... it’s just that when Paul has one of those episodes, it generally means that a Mysteron is close by. It’s one of the effects left over from his time as a Mysteron.”
“Don’t sweat it, Captain Blue,” drawled Colonel White. “Does anybody know who in the Sam Hill Charles Gray is? And why does Captain Scarlet think that this guy is Colonel White? I interviewed Scarlet myself for membership of Spectrum.”
“Excuse me, sir, I think I have a working theory.” The voice in the speaker was Lieutenant Green’s, the Trinidadian Communications Officer, who has spent the last half hour working steadily at his station. “I have been researching Charles Gray, sir. He is somewhat like yourself. He had a distinguished career in the British Navy...” Colonel White scoffed. Green continued without missing a beat, “...before becoming head of the Universal Secret Service. He was assassinated in 2053 by an unknown assailant. At least unknown at that time.”
“I’m getting fed up with hearing the word “time”, Lieutenant. This had better be going somewhere,” White grumbled.
“It is, sir,” replied Lieutenant Green calmly. He was well used to the Colonel’s bark being worse than his bite. “Maybe we should reconvene everybody, sir, including Captain Scarlet. I have something you all need to see.”
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 15:09 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 1, Sickbay, Cloudbase
Captain Scarlet had been restrained when he was taken to sickbay and was none too happy to find himself strapped to the bed when he woke up. “What is the matter with you, man?” he yelled at Captain Blue, who had not left his bedside once the Officers meeting had concluded. “That is not Colonel White. The colonel looks nothing like that.”
“Relax, Paul.” His friend held his hands up in mock surrender. He picked up a manila envelope and held it high in his right hand. “If I show you something, will you take it easy? We really need you back in the room.”
“I am not going back into that room with that imposter. Why does nobody else recognise except for me? What is wrong with you, Adam? That man is not Colonel White!” Captain Scarlet closed his eyes tightly and breathed deeply through his nose. He stopped straining at his bonds and said, “Sorry... sorry. OK, what have you got to show me?” Resignation dripped off his voice like dew in the morning.
Captain Blue gave him a second or two before continuing. “Before you were, erm, incapacitated, you mentioned Charles Gray.”
“Yes,” said Scarlet’s with undisguised irritation. “Charles Gray is Colonel White...why can’t you remember that?”
Blue ignored Scarlet’s question and took a photograph out of the envelope he was holding. Holding it up for Scarlet to see, he asked, “This him?”
Scarlet looked at the picture and nodded affirmatively. “It’s an old photograph from his naval days, but yes, that’s Colonel White.”
Captain Blue turned the picture to have a closer look at it himself. “No,” he mused, “it’s not. It is Charles Gray, but this man was killed by Captain Black in October 2053.”
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 16:01 Greenwich mean Time, Timeline 1 to Timeline 2, Conference Room, Cloudbase
Back in the Conference Room, Colonel White sat at the head of the table. The five colour coded Captains, Destiny Angel and Doctor Fawn were all present, as was the three-man security detail that stood ready behind Captain Scarlet.
“Is that really necessary, sir?” asked Captain Blue doubtfully.
“Sure is, Captain,” drawled Colonel White not really paying attention, “until we know for sure what is going on here.” Looking over towards Captain Scarlet, Spectrum’s Commander-in-Chief said, “We got something to show you, Paul. You ready?”
Scarlet nodded. “OK, Lieutenant, It’s your show. Off you go.” Colonel White moved his hoverchair to the side and ceded the head of the table to Lieutenant Green. “All of us have seen this before, Captain Scarlet. It is from security footage from the Universal Secret Service Headquarters in Berkshire. Please describe for us what you see.”
Scarlet nodded again. The screens around the table came to life and Scarlet focussed his attention on the images as they unfolded and started to provide a commentary on what he saw. “That’s the USS building near Slough. I went there once with my father when... there... that’s Charles Gray... he’s younger, but I’d know him anywhere... that’s the man I know as Colonel White...” Scarlet was stunned into silence as a man looking like something that had escaped from a graveyard dressed entirely in black appeared out of nowhere, shot the colonel several times and then vanished in exactly the same way. “That... that was Captain Black....” His voice tailed off as he looked at Lieutenant Green, narrowing his eyes. “When was that footage taken, Lieutenant?”
The words “October 31st 2053” died abruptly on Lieutenant Green’s lips as a sharp pain clutched at Captain Scarlet’s chest. The room danced once more before Scarlet’s eyes. The men on security stiffened, but Colonel White shook his head and nodded towards Captain Blue then towards Captain Scarlet.
Captain Blue shot up out of his seat and put his arm around Captain Scarlet. “You OK buddy?” he asked gently. Captain Scarlet started to come round much more quickly than the last time but was still somewhat unsteady. He looked into his friend’s face for support. “Not to worry,” continued Blue, but Scarlet looked increasingly confused and frightened. “Hey, hey, you’re OK, Paul, it’s just me... Steve.”
Scarlet struggled to his feet and pushed him away. “No... no... not again,” he stammered, as his legs gave way under him and he surrendered to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 18:34 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 2, Sickbay, Cloudbase
This time, Doctor
Fawn made sure that nobody disturbed Captain Scarlet in the Room of Sleep
until he had recovered fully from the strong sedative he was given. In Sick
Bay, when Fawn had completed a full series of routine tests and when he had
compared them with Scarlet’s standard medical test results, he flicked a
switch on his desk console. “Sick Bay to Colonel White.”
“Go ahead, Eddie,” came the reply.
“I can find nothing wrong with Captain Scarlet, sir. I am going to rouse him now.”
“S.I.G. On our way down,” said White as he cut the communication.
The door to the Room of Sleep swooshed open and Captain Scarlet frowned as a man in a hoverchair wearing a white Spectrum uniform came in, accompanied by a tall blond man in a blue Spectrum uniform.
“You’re Colonel White, aren’t you?” said Captain Scarlet thoughtfully to the man in the hoverchair. Looking at the tall man, he added, “And you are Captain Blue. I know that now... but I also know that you are not the men I remember.” The two men exchanged a puzzled glance.
Captain Scarlet pinched his nose and took a cleansing breath. “The Mysterons. ‘In time’. Somehow, the Mysterons have gained access to time travel technology and they are attacking Spectrum personnel in the past. That was Captain Black in October 2053, killing Charles Gray, the man I remember as Colonel White.” He looked intently at the man in the hoverchair. “But I also remember being interviewed by you, sir, for membership of Spectrum. You are Samuel Shore, late Commander of the World Aquanaut Security Patrol.” He looked at the tall man in blue and sighed deeply. “And you are Steven Zodiac, late of the World Space Patrol. You are my best friend in the world. I remember you shooting me at the top of the London Car-Vu... But I also remember another Captain Blue.” He looked out the Sick Bay porthole and said wistfully, “I was as close to him as well...” His voice tailed off. He looked back at Captain Blue, locking eyes. “He killed me too”.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 19:30 Greenwich mean Time, Timeline 2 to Timeline 3, Conference Room, Cloudbase
Captain Scarlet was already seated in the Conference Room, looking at the mainframe monitor with Lieutenant Green, as the others filed in. Scarlet was looking at a recent photograph of Adam Svenson and reading his résumé. This man was so like his lost friend... born in Boston in 2035, part a wealthy family, intelligent, brilliant and with the best education his family’s considerable wealth could buy. In 2055, not long after Svenson’s enrolment in the World Aeronautic Society, his mother, father and younger brother all died in a mysterious accident on the family yacht. He resigned immediately from WAS and took over the responsibility for running his family’s prodigious financial concerns.
Colonel White broke into Scarlet’s reverie with a loud whistle, “This Svenson guy’s a tycoon... what’s his story?”
Scarlet looked up from the screen and cast a quick glance towards Captain Blue. “Adam’s father didn’t die in this way.” He shook his head. “In the other timeline I mean. Adam became a test pilot.” Scarlet smiled, “He used to say he was the fastest guy alive. But he was chosen for Spectrum because of his actions after he uncovered a spy ring within the World Aeronautical Society. Oddly enough, it was part of the same spy-ring out of Bereznik that Charles Gray had earlier weeded out of the Universal Secret Service years earlier. In the other timeline, I mean... sorry.”
“Paul, is that what Black is up to? Is he moving through time working with Bereznik to destroy Spectrum?” asked Captain Blue.
“I don’t think so... Steve,” Scarlet replied. Looking at Colonel White, he laughed gently and said, “It feels so strange being allowed to be use our first names on Cloudbase... and it doesn’t! I don’t think the other Colonel White even remembered our first names!” Looking intently at Captain Blue, Scarlet then added, “No, Steve. This is personal to the people in the other timeline.” Looking round the room, he shook his head. “There is no easy way to say this... but Captain Black is moving through history from 2053, probably to the present day... and he is targeting all of us in our days before Spectrum. We are all going to die and there is nothing any of us can do to stop it.”
Colonel White broke the silence by addressing Doctor Fawn. “Eddie, why is Scarlet reacting to the changes in the timeline like this, remembering the old timeline when the rest of us don’t?”
Doctor Fawn leant forward with his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “There is so much we don’t know, even after five years, about Captain Scarlet’s remarkable metabolism stemming from his encounter with the Mysterons. My best guess is that however Captain Black is moving through time, it must be having some form of impact on the rest of the Mysterons and Captain Scarlet is somehow sensing that. It’s my best guess, but it does explain why he is remembering the two timelines simultaneously.” Doctor Fawn looked over at Scarlet. “Captain Scarlet, can I ask you about the two sets of memories that you have. How does that feel for you?”
“There is very little difference between the two apart from my interactions with the Colonel and Steve.” Scarlet glanced at While before continuing. “It diverges when I met you for the first time, sir. There is more divergence when I met you, Steve. I remember when you shot me. I remember Adam shooting me. I remember when you and I... and Adam and I... threw our caps across the floor in Base Concord when we disobeyed Colonel White’s command to evacuate the base.”
“So that’s what the pair of you did... you didn’t say that at the court martial hearing,” grumbled Colonel White.
“The other Colonel White didn’t court martial us, sir. He just gave us the reprimands of our lives!” Scarlet smiled at that memory from another time before looking puzzled and passing out again, slumping on the desk.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 20:17 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 3, Control Room, Cloudbase
“OK, Lieutenant,” barked Colonel White, “what’s happening now?”
Lieutenant Green sat in his seat at the Communications Panel and moved it along the conveyor until he was right in front of the imposing control desk that was Colonel White’s second home on Cloudbase.
“Captain Scarlet is under armed guard in his quarters being monitored by Doctor Fawn. Once I finish my report, I am going back there to work with Doctor Fawn to discuss any further changes in the timeline experienced by Captain Scarlet.”
“So, who is it gonna be this time, Lieutenant? No wait... don’t tell me just yet. Say, are you really buying into all of this stuff Scarlet’s selling?”
“It is fantastic, sir,” reflected Lieutenant Green, “but it does make sense. The people he is ‘remembering’ from the other timeline have all had unusual things happen to them to change their lives from what Captain Scarlet ‘remembers’. And we do have that footage of Captain Black in 2053.”
White grunted in reply. Lieutenant Green handed out an envelope which White snatched eagerly. He removed a photograph and looked puzzled. “Am I supposed to know this guy?”
“This is Richard Fraser. He was a senior policeman, transferred to Chicago in 2059. Had the reputation of being one of the best in the World Government Police Corps. He was tipped to take over when the Supreme Commander retired at the end of 2061, but he was gunned down by this man in his own office before he had the chance.” Green handed over a second envelope to his superior.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised...” said White, removing a photograph the shooter. He studied the image, taken from a security camera above and to the right of the reception desk. Same deathly pallor, same five o’clock shadow, same black trench coat. This was eight years, almost to the day, after the footage of the same man shooting Charles Gray… He looked older and his hair was flecked with grey… but his identity was unmistaken. It was Captain Black.
“This guy even looks like a killer... why did the cops let a guy like that into flamin’ Police HQ to get close to a guy like Fraser?” White tutted in disbelief.
“He actually had a bona fide appointment, sir. And this is important... nobody saw him leave after the gunshots were heard. Fraser’s people were on the scene within seconds. But there was no sign of the shooter.”
“And who does Scarlet say this guy was to us?” asked White darkly.
“Captain Ochre, sir.”
White nodded and sighed heavily. “Has Scott been informed?” he demanded, a little more severely than he intended to.
Green ignored the unintended emotion in the Colonel’s reply and said, “Yes, sir. They all have.”
“That will be all Lieutenant, thank you. Please report to Doctor Fawn in Captain Scarlet’s quarters. All we can do is wait for what happens next.” As the door slid to a close behind Lieutenant Green, he pressed a switch to open the shutters on his window to the clouds and looked out. “Conrad, what the hell have you done?” he breathed.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 20:49 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 3 to Timeline 4, Captain Scarlet’s Quarters, Cloudbase
The door of Captain Scarlet’s quarters chimed. Doctor Fawn rose from the desk he had commandeered as his base of operations, stepped round Lieutenant Green and opened the door. Captain Blue stood there, armed with two steaming mugs of coffee. “Any chance of visiting the patient, Doc? The colonel says it's alright...” Blue smiled lopsidedly.
Doctor Fawn rubbed his eyes and said, “Yes, that is fine, Captain. I could do with looking over a few things in Sick Bay. The Lieutenant will have to stay, though.”
Blue looked at Lieutenant Green and said, “Sorry, Seymour. I only have two hands!”
“That’s OK, sir. I can move my paperwork into the bedroom if that’s alright with you,” said Green looking at Scarlet.
Scarlet nodded numbly and reached out for the coffee. He took several sips of the hot comforting liquid, before setting it down on the table beside him. “I don’t want to have another episode holding that, Steve. Where did you get it? Mount Etna?” he chided.
“At least you’d heal from that,” chuckled Captain Blue. He looked deeply into his friend’s eyes. “That would be a wound you could see.”
Scarlet nodded. “Yes...it is painful remembering a lost colleague... and a lost friendship I never really had. I can’t believe that the Mysterons knew that this would hurt me personally as much as it does.” He looked into the distance.
“What I don’t get,” said Blue breaking the silence, “is why Spectrum is still even here.”
Scarlet looked at him. ““Black must still be far enough away from the present day. He is picking us off one by one: the other Colonel White in 2053, the other Captain Blue in 2055, the other Captain Ochre in 2061.”
Captain Blue looked intently at Scarlet. “So... who’s next?”
Captain Scarlet looked pensive. “Looking at the pattern of the killings, my best guess is Captain Grey or...” he nodded silently towards the bedroom, “...will be next. Maybe both. They served in the WASPs together in the early to mid-60s.” Scarlet lapsed into silence.
Blue took a draught of his coffee and said, “It could be any of us, Paul.”
Scarlet went on, “My recovery time is getting shorter, you know, the longer this goes on”. He paused. “How is everybody else holding up?”
Blue thought for a moment before replying. “We’re not sure. Some are sceptical, like the colonel. He is a realist. Sure, he can’t explain those appearances of Captain Black in the past. The rest of us...” He shrugged his shoulders. “None of us remember anything else. None of what you say you remember ever happened to any of us. Paddy says that if this is a prank, it is absolute gold.” They laughed together.
Scarlet groaned... looked confused for a moment, then recovering much more quickly than before, shouted towards the bedroom, “It’s happened again. Lieutenant Green... please contact Colonel White.”
“Certainly, Captain Scarlet,” replied a pleasant female voice from the bedroom. “Colonel White, please report to Captain Scarlet’s quarters.” A tall, attractive black woman emerged from Scarlet’s bedroom, laughing. “It is going to get a bit cramped in here. Maybe we should all regroup in the Conference Room. I’ll sort that with the colonel.”
“Thanks, Serena,” said Captain Blue. Scarlet just looked at him as Lieutenant Green glided out of the room.
Colonel White stabbed the button on the intercom with his index finger, “Colonel White to Captain Grey”.
“Grey here sir,” came the voice from intercom.
“It’s happened again. Please get everybody together in the Conference Room. Serena’s getting us all organised again”.
“PWOR, sir,” said Captain Grey genially.
“Knock it off, Troy. This is getting way beyond a joke, now,” snarled White.
“Sorry sir,” Grey replied in a chastened voice. “Spectrum is Green.”
xXxXxXx
October 14th 2062, 19:17 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 4, The Island of Lemoy
The dark little man closed his eyes as the music filled the room. One of the few genuine pleasures of surface life among the Terraneans was classical and orchestral music. He had absolutely no regrets from taking the time to learn how to play the piano and the pipe organ. Music helped him to relax, to forget and to be free from the worries and stresses of life, his mission, everything, really...His reverie and his music came to an abrupt end as the light flickered above his head. Once. Twice. Only three times. He knew what that meant.
The man closed the piano lid, shambled across the room and touched the bottom of the frame surrounding a painting of two brightly coloured fish. The picture slid up, revealing a control panel. Nodding to himself, he pressed one of the buttons on the lower right side of the panel. He glanced towards the windows overlooking the sea surrounding the Island of Lemoy, as shutters lowered and snapped into place, sealing the room from the world outside. More paintings slid up, while chairs and other items of furniture swung on an axis into the fabric of the old house to be replaced by speakers, measuring dials and monitors. In a final flourish, the dining table, complete with candelabra, flipped over to be replaced by a console table and mixing desk.
Once the room was transformed from comfortable living space into a state-of the-art communications centre, the wall opposite lifted up in its entirely to be replaced by an enormous screen. In a voice that had been accustomed to toadying and fawning, the man once known a lifetime ago as Artura said, “Speak, voice of the Mysterons”.
Surface Agent X-2-Zero did not know how this mysterious ashen faced Terranean had hacked into the Mighty Titan’s private frequency eight years previously, but X-2-Zero had come to appreciate the interruptions greatly. The Terranean had brought to X-2-Zero so many tasty morsels of intelligence that had been right on the money.
The pale man had tipped him off initially about the Solaster big gun and, reluctantly, X-2-Zero took the intelligence to the Mighty Titan. Titan leapt all over the information and immediately sent a fleet of Terror Fish to invade the starfish shaped undersea city of Solaster, seizing the plans for the weapon. Scientists in Titanica were still developing these plans for a major assault on the western coast of part of the surface world known as the United States of America.
The pale man had also given him intelligence about Aphony of Pacifica’s response to Titan’s assault on Solaster and his intention to engage in peaceful first contact with the Terraneans. Titan responded decisively by sending a crack team of Aquaphibians to Pacifica with orders to seize Aphony’s young daughter. Taking her as a hostage ensured that Aphony remained subservient to the will of Titanica. All of this contrived to make X-2-Zero the Mighty Titan’s most trusted Surface Agent and his best rewarded lackey.
X-2-Zero studied the Terranean’s face thoughtfully. He had known this pale man for eight years and knew exactly as much about him today as he had done all those years ago. The pale man intrigued him. He did look slightly older now with additional lines in his face than he did when he hacked into the Mighty Titan’s secure communications channel. What X-2-Zero did not understand at all was how the pale man know so much about the activities of the peoples of the undersea world when the rest of the surface dwellers did not even know that they existed?
Mind you, the pale man looked as arrogant and as imperious as the Mighty Titan himself. X-2-Zero had never revealed to the Mighty Titan the source of his information. The pale man and the Mighty Titan would have hated each other had they ever met! X-2-Zero smiled grimly.
The pale man spoke in a voice that was as chilly as the darkest depths of the sea. “Surface Agent X-2-Zero, this is the voice of the Mysterons. I bring information that the World Aquanaut Security Patrol will be testing their new nuclear-powered undersea vessel, Stingray, at 20:00 hours tonight.”
“Stingray?”, murmured X-2-Zero nasally, “What is that?”
“You know that the Terraneans are developing seaprobes and vessels that will one day enable them to explore deep enough beneath the waves that they will discover the existence of the undersea peoples. You know that will bring disaster for Titan, Gadus, Nucella and the others. The Terraneans will wage war against you mercilessly and will enslave you all without remorse.” The Voice of the Mysterons paused, before continuing with a sly smirk. “Think of the rewards your Master, the Mighty Titan, will give to you as the hero of the undersea world who took the decisive pre-emptive against the Terraneans before they were able to infest the seas as they have infested the dry lands of your homeworld. Act quickly, Surface Agent X-2-Zero! You do not have much time.”
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2072, 21:22 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 5 to Timeline 6, Conference Room, Cloudbase
“That’s as much as I know, colonel. Captain Holden and Lieutenant Griffiths left Marineville at 20:00 hours and within five minutes of being seaborne, Stingray was destroyed because of some unknown and catastrophic systems failure. That’s why the Stingray Initiative was mothballed and why I requested a transfer to join you at Spectrum, sir,” said Captain Grey.
Colonel White nodded stiffly and turned to Captain Scarlet. The latter looked around the Conference Room, sifting through a range of conflicting memories about the faces that sat with him around the table, and said, “In the other timeline, Seymour Griffiths who was one of two people to come to Spectrum from the World Aquanaut Security Patrol. That was after his brother Leroy died in an accident in the line of duty, while working to repair Stingray after the accident on her maiden voyage. That same accident caused severe back injuries to Captain Bradley Holden.”
“Any sense of foul play, Paul?” interrupted Colonel White.
“None at all, sir,” continued Scarlet without missing a beat. “The accident set the Stingray Initiative back a few months, but that was all. Before coming to Spectrum, Seymour Griffiths did more than anybody to develop much of the hydrophone technology that was to help WASP personnel to identify enemy ships beneath the sea. The death of his brother Leroy hit him hard, sir. It was you who did everything possible, in your role as Commander of Marineville, to keep him from leaving.” Scarlet studied Colonel White intently. “But you have no recollection of any of this, have you, sir?”
Ignoring the question, Colonel White turned his attention to Lieutenant Green. “Serena, can you fill in the blanks for me here?”, he demanded.
“Yes sir,” replied Lieutenant Green smoothly. “World Aquanaut Security Patrol Lieutenant Leroy Griffiths, Seymour’s brother, was due to accompany Captain Holden on the Stingray Initiative test run on October 14th 2062 but uncharacteristically went absent without leave. His body was found in a ditch on the main road into Marineville a week later on October 31st. His throat was cut. It was his brother, Lieutenant Seymour Griffiths, who was drafted in as a last-minute replacement for him.”
“I remember ‘Phones’ being initially disappointed that Griffiths was chosen over him for that role,” interjected Captain Grey, the former WASP Captain, Troy Tempest. “Mind you, after the destruction of Stingray, ‘Phones’ knew that he had had a lucky escape that day.” Turning to Scarlet, Grey asked, “Paul, are you saying that, in the other timeline, Brad Holden survived? And that the Stingray Initiative was a success? The WASPs are still living in hope that Spectrum’s research into the properties of malachandrite will one day kickstart the Stingray Initiative again.”
“Yes, Troy,” replied Scarlet. “In the other timeline, Leroy survived the accident in which Brad was injured. Sadly, Leroy was found floating in Pen 3 at Marineville the following year, in 2063. The autopsy revealed that he had had some sort of seizure and drowned. The inquest ruled that it was an accidental death. Seymour found it too hard to settle with the WASPs after that. It was you, Troy, who became the first Captain of Stingray. You also had first contact with both Titanica and Pacifica. You and ‘Phones’ were the only Terraneans ever to encounter Titan’s fish god, Teufel. No matter what Titan threw at Marineville, you were on hand to thwart all of Titan’s schemes. Not surprising that you were Aquanaut of the Year!”
Captain Grey’s eyes widened in surprise, “Aquanaut of the Year? Well, what d’ya know?” Grey smiled. As the implications of all that dawned on him, he looked straight at Colonel White and said, “So, what about the West Coast of the United States of America? Did Titan not blow the whole of that into the sea with a big gun when we had first contact with the peoples under the sea?” White looked back at Captain Grey impassively and Scarlet replied.
“Never happened in that timeline, Troy,” said Captain Scarlet. “Not long after Stingray’s successful trials and launch, Seymour was transferred to Spectrum against Commander Shore’s... erm... our Colonel White’s wishes. In that timeline, he became... erm... Lieutenant Green.” All eyes turned towards Serena Lewis.
“You OK, Lieutenant?” said Colonel White gently.
“Yes sir”, replied Green coolly, “I am fine. But does anybody else feel like Captain Scarlet’s story means that we’re filling dead peoples’ shoes? It’s all starting to creep me out!”
Captain Scarlet looked awkwardly from Lieutenant Green to Captain Blue and set his eyes on Captain Ochre. Despite the jumbled memories of the two timelines that jostled in his head, Scarlet drew a complete blank on who exactly was the head of Spectrum Intelligence. So far as he knew, nobody in the room really knew much about the previous life of the man called Scott Tracy. That had been a pre-condition of his joining Spectrum. He was pleasant, affable and very good at his job, but before his role with Spectrum, it was like he was a ghost.
It was only Colonel White who knew exactly who the former astronaut Scott Tracy was and that, behind the scenes, Spectrum’s Captain Ochre was also the World Government’s liaison with the clandestine vigilante group, International Rescue.
It was a well-known secret within the Intelligence Services that Penelope Creighton-Ward was somehow tied into International Rescue, so Colonel White had used that knowledge to secure a private meeting with the head of that secretive organisation.
White had put it to him that while the World Government had no issues with International Rescue operating as they were doing, they did feel that it would be mutually beneficial if International Rescue had a seat at the top table. The head of International Rescue agreed to nominate one of his operatives for this role but demanded a viable cover for him and absolute secrecy. White readily agreed, so Scott took up the mantle of Captain Ochre.
Scarlet’s train of thought was broken as he made eye contact with Colonel White, who merely nodded at him to continue.
“In the other timeline, Brad followed Seymour into Spectrum not long after that. His back injury meant that he was driving a desk on the top floor of Marineville after the accident. He hated that. But after a while, his ability in managing all kinds of security situations came to the attention of the other Colonel White, who was so impressed, he asked Brad to consider transferring to Spectrum... which he did. He was Captain Grey.”
Captain Grey chuckled grimly, “Me too, huh?” and looked away, wrapped in his own thoughts.
Lieutenant Green’s confident Texan accent interrupted Captain Grey’s reverie. “Sir,” she addressed Colonel White, “I have been tracing Captain Black’s trajectory through time. So far, he has targeted events in London 2053, Boston 2055, Chicago 2059 and Marineville 2062. Who or what could be next?”
“Good question, Serena,” mused Colonel White, “I don’t know. What do you think, Paul? What do you think the Mysterons would do next to hurt Spectrum the most? The Spectrum selection committee meetings from 2064? The installation of Cloudbase in 2066? You? It could be you. You have been leading the fight against the Mysterons since the start.”
Captain Scarlet reflected on that before looking up abruptly. “I am starting to remember new things. Sir, it’s Captain Black...” Doctor Fawn was already moving as Captain Scarlet swayed, but before his head hit the table, Captain Scarlet, the indestructible Spectrum Agent, the only person ever to be freed from the thrall of the Mysterons, ceased to exist.
xXxXxXx
October 31st 2066, 22:09 Greenwich Mean Time, Timeline 5 to Timeline 6, Maida Vale, London
Paul Metcalfe was feeling on top of the world when he activated the access code for his apartment in Maida Vale, London. Hanging up his topcoat and kicking off his shoes, he poured himself a large glass of Tempranillo. He chuckled to himself, “One more won’t kill me now, will it?”
Setting the lights to dim, he flopped down in his favourite easy chair and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Picking up the remote, he switched on the videcaster to catch the tail end of the news. His big news wouldn’t have made the national headlines. Why would it? Still, that didn’t take away the satisfaction of knowing that he aced the Spectrum interview as was in at the rank of Captain. Although he was not at liberty to tell anybody, not even his parents, that in no way took any of the shine off it.
Despite being a few drinks in, he stiffened and became fully alert. A noise from the other room. He strode purposefully over to the cabinet where he kept his weapons but stopped as a menacing voice was raised, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Earthman.” Metcalfe spun round and was looking down the barrel of a very sophisticated weapon, the like of which he had never seen before. Holding it was a pale man in his mid-50s, who looked like he had just climbed out of a coffin, clad entirely in dark, black clothing.
“You appreciate my firearm, Earthman. Good... good. It is best that 2072 has to offer.”
Metcalfe’s thoughts whirled. Earthman? Is this guy from another planet? 2072? What!? Time traveller? Metcalfe’s lively mind was busily processing this information as he listened to the figure with the creepy voice.
“Sit down, Earthman, I want to tell you a story... a story of a peaceful people on the planet you call Mars... a peaceful people who were attacked without mercy and without provocation by Spectrum.” Despite himself, Metcalfe looked surprised. “Oh yes, Captain Scarlet... I know all about your private little army and your plans for an assault on our Martian Complex.”
Captain Scarlet? Metcalfe sat down, all the while thinking, biding his time, waiting for some kind, any kind of advantage to present itself.
“Then you know more than I do, friend,” said Metcalfe fishing for more information.
“I certainly do, Captain Scarlet, I certainly do. I am the agent of vengeance for the Mysterons. I have been moving through time, seeking to destroy the roots and branches of Spectrum. Once Spectrum has been neutralised, I will return to Mars and the Mysterons will pre-emptively lay waste to your people before you can do the same to ours. We will give your world to our allies, the undersea peoples. But first...I must destroy... you.”
Metcalfe thought quickly and, trying to stall the inevitable, said, “Why? Why me? Why must you destroy me?”
“You are the key, Scarlet,” intoned the dark man without emotion, moving towards Metcalfe. “You have stood at the forefront of the resistance to the will of the Mysterons... or at least you will do. Your destiny is to cast off the control of the Mysterons and to use our gifts against us. I will stop you, Scarlet, even before you start.”
Just then, the doorbell chimed. The pale man was distracted for a fraction of a second, but that was all the time Metcalfe needed to leap into action. He launched himself at the pale man and they barrelled together into the bookshelves. Metcalfe knocked the sophisticated futuristic-looking gun out of his assailant’s hand, sending it clattering under a chair. Taking a moment to activate the door release, Metcalfe rounded on his foe again, but was knocked flying into the videcaster that died violently in an explosion of sparks.
Shaking his head groggily, Metcalfe looked up in time to see the pale man retrieve the futuristic-looking gun from under the chair and point it towards him. “The Mysterons will be avenged, Earthman...”
Just before the weapon was discharged, the person who activated the doorbell entered the room. Sizing up the situation in a heartbeat, he threw himself towards the armed man as Metcalfe shouted out a warning, “Look out, Conrad, he’s got a gun...”
The man coming into the room was Paul Metcalfe’s soon-to-be Spectrum colleague, Conrad Turner. Turner took hold of the armed man by the shoulder, spun him round and punched him squarely in the face. Metcalfe turned away and covered his eyes as the brightness of an eerie green glow suffused around the room, before contracting and disappearing in a dot at the point of contact between Turner’s fist and the strange man’s chin.
Of the strange pale man, there was left no trace. An extensive search was also undertaken for Conrad Turner, the Spectrum agent briefly known as Captain Black, but he too, was never to be seen again.