A "Captain Scarlet and the
Mysterons" Story
By Sue Stanhope
Many thanks go, as ever, to Chris Bishop for her invaluable suggestions
and advice throughout the writing of this story. I must also thank Chris
Bishop and Hazel Köhler for their patience in
beta-reading the story.
"About time, I’d say," Captain
Magenta smiled smugly as he parked the Spectrum Patrol Car in the visitors car
park to the left of the sprawling, three story laboratory.
"What is?" murmured Ochre
unbuckling his harness with ease.
"A nice easy job," Magenta grinned
at him as they both stepped from the car. "One where we’re not going to get shot
at, no one’s going to explode, Captain Black," he waved an arm vaguely
indicating the area in and around the laboratory, "is nowhere to be seen."
"He never is," countered Ochre
grimly.
Magenta frowned and leaned his arms
on the roof of the car, clasping his hands.
"When are you going to lighten up?"
he demanded to know.
"There’s nothing wrong with me."
"Yeah, right!" Magenta scoffed.
"You’re still sore because the Colonel chewed you out this morning."
"It wasn’t as bad as he made out!"
snapped Ochre with a scowl.
"No it wasn’t, but he’s been trying
to get you for playing those stupid practical jokes on people for ages and this
time you got caught! You’re slipping, Ochre, getting careless," Magenta grinned
again, "in your old age."
"Careless? Old? I could show you a
trick or two, Magenta!" he rallied.
"Good, well, now you’re back to
your old, did I say old?" he flashed a wicked smile in Ochre’s direction, "self,
shall we go in?"
Ochre slammed the door on his side
and offered Magenta a defeated smile. The pair headed at a fast pace towards the
front of the building.
The laboratory, R & L Stevenson
Technology Ltd was situated approximately ten miles north of Edinburgh and a
group of four of the company’s top scientists were currently hard at work
developing a new, more powerful fuel for Spectrum’s exclusive use. Magenta’s
confidence was well placed as a Mysteron threat had already been pronounced on
the development of the new formula and defeated only three weeks earlier. Now
Ochre and Magenta had arrived on a regular monthly visit to assess progress.
They had already heard that it was in the final stages of testing and were
hoping to receive the news that it could be put to use. The new fuel was sixty
percent synthetic, and so was cheaper and easier to produce. The main advantage
to Spectrum, though, had to be that it was even more powerful than the fuel
manufactured at the Bensheba Refinery. The attack on
the refinery a couple of years ago had brought home to Spectrum just how reliant
they were on one single source of fuel. It became the main prompt in the search
for a new source of fuel that could be manufactured cheaply and easily almost
anywhere.
Magenta whistled cheerfully as he
almost danced up the steps leading to the main entrance. Holding the door open
for a pretty laboratory assistant, he nodded politely as she stepped through the
door on her way out.
"You’re incorrigible!" muttered
Ochre as he joined him.
"And you’re jealous!" Magenta
countered with a sidelong glance.
It was true, well, possibly anyway.
Ochre couldn’t quite allow himself to admit to the possibility that he was
right. There was something very free and almost anarchic about Magenta’s nature
that sometimes made Ochre feel decidedly reserved when in his company. But,
he told himself firmly, I’m NOT dull and I don’t need to prove it to him!
***
"Captain Magenta," Doctor Robert
Lawson called on seeing the pair of Spectrum officers escorted to his
laboratory, extending a hand towards them. "Captain Ochre, welcome back."
Magenta and Ochre took turns in
accepting the proffered hand for a hearty shake.
"No doubt you’ve heard that the lab
tests are complete and we’re ready to begin trials on Cloudbase," Lawson
continued enthusiastically. "Here let me show you the data."
"Doctor Lawson," a quiet female
voice cut in. "While you show the data to Captain Magenta, perhaps I could give
Captain Ochre a tour of the laboratory. It may be their last visit."
Lawson paused as he glanced from
the Spectrum captains to his assistant, his eyes finally resting on Captain
Ochre with an expression that asked if he would be interested.
"Er…" It
was Ochre’s turn to be uncertain. It would only require one of them to sign off
the data on the laboratory tests and it did seem like an interesting offer.
"Sure," he continued with a smile. "I’d like that."
"Well that’s settled then." Lawson
nodded. "Captain Magenta, if you’d follow me into the office and Doctor Hyde, if
you and Captain Ochre can be back within twenty minutes, we can set off."
"Of course, Doctor, we won’t be
long. Captain Ochre?" She offered him a bright cheerful smile as she indicated
towards the door.
Ochre offered her a smile in return
as they both headed out on their tour of the laboratory.
"She’s very dedicated," Lawson
explained to Magenta as he led him into the office, "and remarkably intelligent.
She’s even found the time to do a little research of her own into performance
enhancing drugs and believe me, Captain, she’s been working very hard on the
Spectrum project, it’s amazing she managed to find the time."
"As you say, Doctor, she’s
dedicated. Anyone that keen will ALWAYS find the time, somehow."
Lawson smiled at Magenta’s
understanding, having been initially worried that he may think personal research
had slowed the progress of the Spectrum project, Magenta’s reply had settled his
mind on the subject.
***
Captain Ochre was enjoying himself,
much more than he had expected to.
Far from just a tedious walk around the laboratory building, Dr Hyde was
treating him to a display of fascinating experiments and giving him the
opportunity to mix some of the chemicals himself. He wished chemistry had been this much
fun when he had attended high school, perhaps, he thought, he would have paid
more attention.
“Actually,” Hyde began as she
headed towards a cupboard on the wall behind them, “there’s one more I can show
you, but I just need to fetch some ammonia.”
Ochre nodded enthusiastically as he
continued to inspect the bottles laid out in front of him. “So what’s this?”
asked Ochre inquisitively.
"What?" asked Hyde, turning to see
what the American captain was referring to. As she turned she saw to her horror
that he held a flask of clear liquid and was about to remove the bung. "No!
Don’t take that…"
Her cry stopped mid sentence as
Ochre removed the stopper only to be enveloped by a cloud of vapour. Dropping
the flask he staggered backwards in pain and severe discomfort. Coughing
violently, he was disorientated and temporarily blinded.
"I can’t see!" he croaked, trying
desperately to wave the vapour away. Tripping as he staggered backwards away
from the cause of his suffering, he fell heavily to the floor in some distress.
"Doctor Hyde!"
Ochre felt comforting hands on him
as Hyde tried to calm his fears.
"Captain, don’t worry, it’s only
temporary. You’ll be fine, I promise," she said in soothing tones. "Please
relax, I’ll get you something to take the pain away."
Hyde stared at the stricken captain
and chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. The effect of the contents of the flask,
whilst apparently dramatic would leave no long-term effect or even last more
than a few minutes. Would it be fair to play on the captain’s fears? She had
wanted to test her theories for so long. She had the ideal opportunity now and
the means to monitor the results.
"I’ll be two minutes," she advised.
"You’ll be fine, I promise."
True to her word, Doctor Hyde
returned quickly to see Ochre rising uncertainly from the floor.
"Captain Ochre? Are you all right?
Can you see?" she asked with some hesitation.
Ochre squinted, he could see
something, but mostly it was just fuzzy shapes. "A little. Are you sure it’ll
come back?" he asked with obvious trepidation.
"I’m certain, Captain. I have
something that will help. Please don’t worry," she replied. She was lying and
she knew it. The vapour would result in no lasting ill effects, she didn’t need
to do any more than rinse his eyes out, but the opportunity was too good to pass
up.
Gently she rinsed Ochre’s eyes,
ensuring that they were thoroughly cleansed of the harsh drying effects of the
vapour. Ochre rubbed his throat as his sight returned.
"Thank you," he nodded gratefully,
his voice hoarse and dry. "I really thought my career was over. I should know
better than to do that."
"It was a mistake, Captain, and
you’re lucky, there are no long term effects, you’ll be fine," she smiled.
"But," she paused. Could she really do this? "You should use this."
Pressing a small bottle into his
hand, she smiled uncertainly. "Your eyes might dry a little, this will stop
that. You should put two drops in your eyes now and each night before you go to
bed."
"You’re sure I’ll be okay? I can’t
go to Doctor Fawn, over this, I’d be in so much trouble," Ochre frowned.
"I’m certain," she sighed slightly.
"Now, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t," she added with a smile. "And don’t
forget, I’ll be on Cloudbase for the next week for the fuel trials, I’ll watch
you carefully. I’m sure everything will be fine, but you must take those drops
every night. Promise?"
Ochre’s expression showed his
relief as more of his sight returned. "I promise!" Placing two drops from the
bottle in each eye, Ochre smiled. "Thanks Doctor Hyde, you’ve been really
considerate."
"Jacqueline, Captain, please call
me Jacqueline."
Ochre smiled once more, followed
after a short pause by a confident, appreciative nod. "Then, you must call me
Rick," he replied taking her hand, then added with a twinkle in his eye. "In
private."
Hyde smiled; she felt better about
this already. How easy it had been to convince him, but, of course, he trusted
her. She would be on hand to ensure that the trial would run successfully. What
could go wrong?
"How do you feel now?" she asked,
aware that they should be heading back, but unwilling to do so until he was
fully recovered.
Ochre took a deep breath, and
almost seemed embarrassed by his earlier reaction.
"Fine," he said giving her hand a
squeeze. "Better than fine, in fact."
"Really?" She replied with slightly
raised eyebrows. Could it be working already? "In what way?" She could
have kicked herself for asking in so clumsy a way. It seemed to her that it
would be obvious that she had an ulterior motive and so early on in the course
he would surely be aware of the difference. She needn’t have worried; Ochre
merely grinned at her.
"Stop worrying, Jacqueline, I
promise you, I’m fine!"
Hyde smiled, grateful to be let off
the hook. "I think we should get back. They must be ready to leave now."
Ochre nodded and pointed with the
open palm of his left hand to the door.
"After you," he replied graciously.
***
"Good tour?" asked Magenta with a
smile, believing it to be the last thing that Ochre would have enjoyed.
"Who could not enjoy such charming
company?" Ochre replied with a broad smile.
Magenta raised his eyebrows; this
was an unexpected turn.
"Well, er,
sure," he replied with uncertainty, followed by a slight smile as he realised
that, just maybe, there was more to Ochre than met the eye.
The small group headed out of the
factory towards the Spectrum Saloon, Magenta still marvelling at Ochre’s
attentiveness towards Dr Hyde. They had come on many visits to the laboratory
and he had not noticed anything that suggested a relationship might be
developing; and he prided himself on his observation skills. Yet this trip was
most definitely very different. He grinned broadly as he slid behind the wheel.
"What are you grinning at?" Ochre
asked quietly as they pulled away.
"Me?" replied Magenta innocently.
"Nothing."
***
The Conference Room was full.
Colonel White, all of the senior captains, Lieutenant Green and four of the
Angels had gathered to meet the two scientists who would be conducting the new
fuel trials. Colonel White looked up from the file on his desk.
"I’ve read your proposed schedule,
Doctor Lawson and I’m in complete agreement with you. May I compliment you on a
very thorough testing procedure? I’m sure the project will be successful.
Although, I note that you want to start your testing with the interceptors. Do
you have any specific reasons for that, Doctor?"
"Yes, Colonel, as you know,
Pro-Butyl 6 is designed as a highly specialised fuel, specifically for Spectrum
use. Your interceptors are, without doubt, the most technically demanding of all
of your craft. Frankly, if our compound does not function to a high standard
with the interceptors, there is little point continuing the testing."
White nodded slowly. "I appreciate
your thoroughness, Doctor and your honesty, although I’m certain that everything
will proceed as expected, I’m more than aware of the extensive testing you’ve
already completed."
"I hope the trials here are just as
successful, Colonel," Lawson replied with a confident smile.
"I’m sure they will, Doctor," White
agreed. "Well, I think for this evening you’ll want to get some rest and we’ll
begin the trials in earnest first thing tomorrow. Captain Magenta and Destiny
Angel will see you to your quarters."
"Thank you, Colonel," Lawson smiled
as he rose from his seat.
Hyde glanced in Ochre’s direction.
She appeared suddenly concerned, but the reassuring smile Ochre afforded her in
return seemed to calm her spirits. Magenta’s eyes flickered from Ochre to Hyde
and back, the slightest glint of amusement registered briefly in his curious
gaze. Something was going on, that was certain. As he headed down the corridor
with Destiny and their visitors, he shrugged as he noticed Ochre turn away
without further comment and head for his quarters.
***
Ochre stared closely at himself in
the mirror, pulling at his lower eyelids to afford himself a better look. They
looked normal enough and they felt okay, not at all dry. He looked down at the
small bottle resting on the shelf and sighed. How could he not take the drops
Doctor Hyde had given him? He’d been in enough trouble with the Colonel already
that day for getting caught pulling another of his practical jokes. This time it
had backfired and he’d been caught. It was as if the Colonel had been building
up to this for some time and had exploded in one furious tirade. There was no
way he was prepared to risk another lashing from the Colonel, due to his own
foolishness of inhaling the vapour back in the laboratory. Tilting his head
back, Ochre squeezed two drops of the cold liquid into each eye.
***
"Your quarters are here, Doctor
Lawson," Magenta swiped a card through the security slot and handed the card to
Lawson as the door opened. "You should find everything you need but if not, just
call me and I’ll make sure it’s sent to you. Doctor Hyde’s quarters are along
the corridor to the right, so you’ll be close by should you want to compare
notes. I’ll be back at seven tomorrow to take you to breakfast before the
trials."
"Thank you, Captain, that’s most
considerate."
Magenta smiled. If visitors tried
to find their own way around the many corridors of Cloudbase, it would be
unlikely that they would ever be found again!
"Good night, Doctor," he replied
cheerfully. "Sleep well."
"You too, Captain."
***
The following morning Captain Ochre
stood alongside Doctor Hyde at the monitoring consol situated in the empty
hangar bay from where a test intercepter had just been
raised to the flight deck. The test interceptor had been fuelled and linked up
to the consol so that the Cloudbase team could follow the test flight and be
aware of all of the information available to the test pilot. In the cockpit,
Melody Angel awaited clearance that all crews were ready and she could begin.
"How confident are you?" Ochre
asked Hyde conversationally as he went through the pre-flight safety checks at
his station.
"Fairly, no, well, very confident.
There’s no reason why it should fail, it’s been tested thoroughly enough," she
replied.
Ochre smiled. Hyde, he guessed, was
still overly concerned about the incident at the laboratory. She seemed a little
uncomfortable around him, yet strangely attentive. She had spent the morning,
during the preparation for the interceptor, checking his eyes, his heart rate
and temperature. He had grown somewhat concerned at first, after all she had
assured him that there were no long term effects from the accident, but she
assured him she was being over-cautious, after all she didn’t want him getting
into trouble with Doctor Fawn.
A light flashed on the console
indicating that the test flight was about to begin. Ochre ran through the checks
again, his eyes ran down the console and back to one near the top. Something
didn’t seem quite right somehow.
"What do you make of this?" he
asked with some concern.
"Let me see," Hyde approached the
console and immediately her brow furrowed. "That’s not right."
"The fuel intake? Right?"
"Yes, check with Melody."
"Melody, I have a red light here.
Are you reading the same?" he asked urgently.
"S.I.G., Captain, but it’s nothing
to worry about, it’s all under control," she replied smoothly.
"Melody, are you sure?"
"Yes, Captain, no problem, in fact,
it’s all clear now."
"I’m not getting the same here,
Melody, still a red light," Ochre persisted.
"Then your console must be
malfunctioning. I’ve got all green lights and so has Lieutenant Green."
"Hmm, guess so," replied Ochre
sounding decidedly unconvinced.
The next voice they heard was that
of Lieutenant Green advising Melody that she had launch clearance.
"S.I.G.," Melody replied.
Ochre couldn’t take his eyes off
the console. He considered his options. This was serious, if he were right the
consequences could be fatal, but if wrong, the very worst that could happen
would be a severe tongue lashing from Melody. He was not prepared to take such a
risk with Melody, of all people. Of all people? The words echoed around
his head. Now where had that suddenly come from? Ochre allowed himself a faint
smile; maybe he’d known for some time, but hadn’t admitted it to himself, but he
cared for her. More than cared, in fact. His eyes were drawn back to the
flashing red light. At that moment, Melody fired the engines in the interceptor.
Ochre thought about it no more; acting purely on instinct, he hit the abort
button. Instantly Melody’s engines were cut and there followed a stream of
insults and threats.
"Er,
Melody," began Green with an embarrassed tone, "you’re still on comm you know."
Silence followed. The sort of
silence you could almost hear. Ochre turned to Hyde and shrugged uncomfortably.
"I’m in trouble now."
Hyde smiled, trying hard to conceal
a laugh.
It was less than five minutes later
than the door slid open to reveal a perfectly furious Melody.
"What was that all about? Aborting
just as I fire up my engines?!"
"I had a red light," Ochre defended
himself.
"I told you everything was fine.
You really are an old woman, Ochre!"
"Everything was NOT fine! Look!"
Ochre pointed to the console.
"I didn’t get a light, Green didn’t
get a light, but you did. Just you, mind. But you HAVE to be right, don’t you. I
don’t know why they put you on this detail. This is test piloting, you know!
There are always risks, but you wouldn’t know how to take a risk if it came gift
wrapped!"
"Will you just shut up and look at
this?!" Ochre yelled.
The sheer volume and tone of his
voice was enough to stop Melody in her tracks. His tone wasn’t what she
expected; he didn’t sound angry, well, not just angry anyway. There was concern,
even hurt in his voice. She approached the console in silence as he explained.
"Look, this is the light, the fuel
intake. I checked it and double-checked. It wasn’t a fuel problem, it was a
fault in the interceptor. Some of the fuel was backtracking on itself, there was
a very real risk of the engine just exploding. You wouldn’t even have chance to
eject. I don’t care if it’s a false reading, it was too much of a risk to take,
gift wrapped or not."
Melody looked at the reading; it
wasn’t the same light she had seen earlier, it was very possible that Ochre’s
tenacity had just saved her life.
"I’m sorry, Captain Ochre.
I’m glad it was you here. Thank you," she replied awkwardly.
Ochre smiled sympathetically.
"Perhaps I can make it up to you?"
Melody cocked her head to one side,
she never knew how to take Ochre. Was he serious or leading her on? She decided
to play it safe.
"Sure, you can buy me a coffee."
Ochre smiled again. Well, it’s a
start, he thought.
***
It took most of the morning to
repair the interceptor and Ochre was at once horrified and relieved to discover
that his fears had been correct. The jet’s engines were faulty and would almost
certainly have resulted in disaster had Melody been allowed to take off.
Everyone was just a little more
cautious when the testing resumed later that afternoon. Checking, double and
even triple checking all the details before proceeding. But, it proved
unnecessary as the tests were completed without a hitch. Melody even commented
on how much quieter and smoother it was than she had expected.
Hyde and Lawson were delighted. The
success of the interceptor trials meant that they could continue with the
remaining tests. Confident that all would go well, they retired to their
quarters for the evening to prepare for the following day.
***
It wasn’t a long walk back from the
Spectra-Mart store back to his quarters, but Captain Ochre decided to take the
scenic route and make it last. It was a quiet enough evening; he was off duty
and had decided to take a stroll. There was nothing he particularly needed from
the store, but, well, it was near the Amber Room and maybe, just maybe he’d see
Melody. He’d never said anything to her; in fact he’d always kept a more than
discreet distance. But now, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered
why. Secretly, he felt that she would return his affections if offered and now,
he decided, was the time to make his move. The duty roster said she would be
heading for the Amber Room in the next few minutes and he would be waiting.
He didn’t have to wait for long as,
just as he turned out of the store, he could see her approaching from further
down the corridor. He smiled in anticipation as his speed picked up. Stopping
just feet from her, he smiled warmly.
"Hi, Melody, you’re looking lovely
tonight," he greeted her with a hopeful yet confident expression.
Melody frowned suspiciously at him.
"What do you want, Captain Ochre?"
she asked him, a little harsher than she had intended.
Ochre’s face fell in an
exaggerated, almost theatrical way.
"Melody, you wound me!" he grinned.
"I’m on duty in five minutes,
Ochre, what do you want?" she asked, now certain that he was making fun of her
and was less than impressed with the idea.
Ochre manoeuvred himself so that
Melody was standing near the wall of the corridor. Placing his left hand on the
wall, blocking her path he cocked his head and smiled self-assuredly, somehow
managing to exude a confident charm.
"Can’t you guess?" he asked with a
twinkle in his eyes.
Melody glanced at his arm and
frowned before looking back up at the tall, dark haired American captain.
"I really don’t have time for
guessing games, Captain!" she snapped pushing his arm down and trying to move
past him.
"Ah, ah!" Ochre chuckled catching
her once more. "Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?"
"You most certainly don’t!" Melody
declared, utterly scandalised by the suggestion.
Pushing him aside once more she
stormed off down the corridor. Behind her, she could hear Ochre’s quickening
step as he hurried to catch up with her.
"Look, Ochre, I…"
Melody was cut short in her
astonishment as Ochre seized both her arms and pressed her against the wall. His
grip was firm and although not painful, was intended to restrain.
"You can’t REALLY want to go?" he
asked with a look of mock disappointment in his eyes.
"I…" Melody paused. Whilst shocked
by his conduct, she reminded herself that this was Ochre and she was determined
not to set herself up as a target for his ridicule. And yet at the same time,
the fleeting thought that he might be serious almost brought a blush to her
cheeks. Dismissing the idea instantly, she shrugged off his grip. "I’m busy,
Ochre."
"Rick," he corrected running a
finger gently down her arm as he released her. "Then, maybe later? When you come
off-duty. On the Promenade Deck."
"Er…yeah,
maybe," replied Melody, her guard dropping slowly.
"I’ll see you later then," he
replied with a smile and a wink.
Melody watched open mouthed as he
headed off down the corridor. There were no jokes, no smart remarks, just Ochre.
No, just Rick. She found herself smiling and felt the flush in her cheeks that
she had been so fortunate to avoid earlier. Shaking herself, she looked around,
thankful that no one had seen her behaving like a giddy schoolgirl. She would
not previously have given a moment’s thought to the idea that she may hold any
such feelings for her compatriot, and her own reaction had come as more of a
surprise to her than even his behaviour. Watching until he disappeared from
view, Melody turned and composed herself before heading to the Amber Room.
***
Symphony and Melody couldn’t help
but laugh at Captain Magenta’s latest tale. Magenta had arrived in the Amber
Room roughly thirty minutes earlier, having shown Doctor Lawson to his quarters.
He had then begun to regale them with a full account of Ochre’s dressing down by
the Colonel, the details of which he had managed to wheedle out of Lieutenant
Green. Naturally, for narrative necessity, he had embellished it almost beyond
recognition. The two Angels were helpless with laughter at Ochre’s expense, but
it seemed almost poetic justice as they had all suffered his practical jokes at
one time or another. It did them good to hear a tale of the Colonel extracting
revenge on behalf of them all. How much of the tale was true and how much was
fabricated, they would never know, but it made for a highly entertaining story
to fill the hours of a dull duty watch.
"And with that, ladies, I must bid
you good night," a grinning Magenta rose and bowed graciously to them.
"Good night, Magenta," Melody
replied, still laughing, "sleep well."
"Pleasant dreams," Symphony added
with a smile.
"Oh, I’m looking forward to getting
to bed tonight, I can tell you!" Magenta nodded as he turned to leave.
Magenta turned his cap in his hands
and chuckled to himself as he headed along the corridor leading away from the
Amber Room for the few minutes walk back to his own quarters in the control
tower. He neither saw nor heard the approach of his assailant. One arm wrapped
around him, grabbing his right wrist in a tight almost painful grip. Another arm
clamped a drug soaked cloth over his nose and mouth. Magenta held his breath and
fought against the vice like grip, trying hard not to breathe. Magenta was
strong and athletic, trained in self-defence and yet every move he tried to free
himself from his unknown aggressor was countered and ultimately unsuccessful.
After a few moments, it became necessary for him to take a breath. Trying
desperately to pull his head away, Magenta gasped for air. Taking in a lungful
of the sweet scented chemical, he could feel his mind clouding and almost
instantly he slipped to the floor as his knees buckled under him.
Magenta shook his head vigorously,
reacting to the sharp odour, as the small bottle of smelling salts was waved
under his nose. A flood of sensations fought hard to gain his attention as he
woke, that it would be almost impossible for him to recall later exactly what he
was aware of first. He was lying on his back on a bed, of that he was certain.
Unable to see, he realised a length of cloth had been tied tightly across his
eyes. But even without the use of his eyes, the slight chill he felt made him
acutely aware of having been stripped to the waist. The next thing of which he
was aware as he came to fully were the handcuffs securing his wrists to each end
of the bed’s headboard. He pulled on them sharply, as if to test their strength,
but they were firm enough.
"What is this?" he asked furiously.
"Who’s there?"
"I thought you were good at picking
locks, Magenta, surely this can’t present you with much of a challenge?" came a
gruff, croaky voice. Whilst tinged with amusement, the voice was decidedly
menacing.
Magenta now realised that his boots
and socks had been removed and his ankles too were secured to the foot of the
bed, this time with rope. Infuriatingly, the rope had been fastened with just
enough slack in it to allow him only the most ineffectual of struggles.
"Who are you? Let me go!" Magenta
demanded, frustrated by his predicament.
"Oh, I don’t think so," the voice
gave a hoarse laugh.
Magenta felt a tickling across his
chest as if several strands of a stiff material were being pulled slowly across
him.
"What’s that?" He asked nervously,
his muscles tightening as he became increasingly tense.
He made a sharp intake of breath in
response to the noise, as he heard the loud crack of slapping leather next to
his ear. The sensation he had felt and the sound he had heard placed a very
clear image in his mind. Whoever this was, he was holding in his hand the ‘cat
o’ nine tails’ from Lieutenant Green’s prop box. The Cloudbase Amateur Dramatic
Society, founded by Green had put on a performance of ‘Mutiny on the Bounty’
in which Magenta had played a somewhat overzealous Captain Bligh, with a
striking portrayal of Fletcher Christian by Captain Blue. The sound of the
cat was one he had become all too familiar with during the rehearsals and
there was no mistaking its sound now.
"What are you doing? Who are you?"
Terrified, Magenta pulled hard on the shackles only to suddenly stop, bemused as
his captor’s laughter rang in his ears, fading as he heard a door open and
close.
Magenta frowned. What on Earth was
happening? Drugged, tied to a bed, threatened and left. If he hadn’t heard the
unknown voice, he’d have believed this to be Ochre’s most unpleasant joke yet.
Magenta reflected on the idea. No, Ochre would never go so far as attacking any
of his victims. Annoying as they were, Ochre’s jokes were harmless. Frustrated,
Magenta pulled once more on the handcuffs. There was no way he could release
himself, with no tools, sight or even the ability to reach the locks, he had to
resign himself to the embarrassment of rescue. About to shout for help, Magenta
opted for an apprehensive silence as the door slid open once more to admit, he
believed, his captor. Instead he heard the gasp of a female voice.
Magenta turned his head to face the
door, horrified by the sudden realisation of where he must be. He had, after
all, been attacked in the corridor beyond the Amber Room, where the Angels’
quarters were located.
Oh no!
"Destiny?" he whispered hopefully.
"Well," came the abrupt voice of
Symphony Angel. "I know now why you were so keen to get to bed tonight. But I
think you chose the wrong room!"
"Symphony!" Magenta spluttered, his
face flushed a deep crimson beneath the blindfold.
"What’s wrong?" came a voice behind
her as someone else entered the room.
"Oh, God! Blue! It’s not what you
think, really!" Magenta pleaded, wishing that somehow the bed would simply
absorb him and lessen the acute embarrassment he now felt.
"Really?" snapped a furious Blue,
stepping forward and removing the blindfold with unnecessary roughness. "You
tell me what I’m thinking! I come in here to find you’ve tied yourself to
Symphony’s bed with…" Blue paused, momentarily lost for words as he saw the whip
that Symphony was now examining with an amused expression on her face. "With
THIS!" he barked, snatching the whip from Symphony’s hands and waving it under
Magenta’s nose.
"And this," added Symphony with a
chuckle, handing Blue a two-thirds full bottle of massage oil.
"Go on, Magenta! You tell me what
I’m thinking!"
"I didn’t tie myself up!" Magenta
protested. "How could I?"
"Relax, Adam, he was expecting
Destiny," Symphony announced.
"Destiny?" Blue repeated perplexed.
"Let me see if I’ve got this right,
Pat," Symphony began with a smirk. "You’ve suggested a, well, rather different
style of evening’s entertainment to Destiny and she’s called your bluff and tied
you up in here instead of in her own quarters?"
"No!" cried Magenta. "It’s not like
that at all, listen…"
"Where are the keys?" Blue cut in
irritably.
"Go easy, Adam, it’s just a joke,"
Symphony nudged his arm.
"Well I don’t find it funny!" he
replied.
Neither do I!
thought Magenta despondently.
"Where are the keys?" Blue asked
again.
"I’m trying to tell you, I don’t
know," Magenta replied. "Really, Adam, it’s…"
"Then I guess Destiny must have
them," he grumbled turning on his heels and heading back towards the door.
"No!" Magenta yelled, mortified by
the idea that Blue would bring Destiny to see him like this. Pulling on the
handcuffs he turned as much as his restraints would allow. "Blue! Please!"
Magenta fell back onto the bed,
flustered and fretting. He heard footsteps returning almost immediately. Perhaps
Blue had changed his mind and would hear him out. No such luck!
"Patrick Donaghue!" came the
clipped and imperious voice of Destiny Angel. "I am appalled! You think this is
amusing?! Vraiment!"
Open mouthed, Magenta glanced
briefly at the French pilot; letting out a deep hopeless sigh, he flopped back
and gave up.
***
Captain Ochre stared out of one of
the many large windows on Cloudbase’s Promenade Deck. It was a beautiful day,
with clear blue skies and a few light scattered clouds drifting below them. It
was a perfect day to meet Melody, and the perfect place. Almost all of the
flowering plants were in full bloom and a sweet scent hung in the air. It was
the perfect backdrop to accentuate her beauty. He smiled to himself, and,
despite her lateness, Ochre felt confident that she would come. Her duty shift
must have finished almost twenty minutes ago and she had still not arrived, but,
Ochre decided, she would and it would be worth the wait. Casting his eyes
casually around the deck, Ochre’s gaze fell on the spectacularly cultivated and
lovingly cared for white rose bush belonging to Colonel White. Each year, White
grew the most perfect and dazzlingly beautiful white roses to place on his
wife’s grave. Everyone had known for years just how important the bush was to
him, but had only recently discovered why. But, Ochre mused, he wouldn’t miss
one. Not just one. Selecting one that had fully opened, Ochre snapped the
flower’s stem, pricking his forefinger in the process on a protruding thorn.
"Ow!"
Ochre yelped, sucking the side of his cut finger to soothe the pain. "Damn
thorns!"
Settling himself comfortably in a
chair, Ochre continued to wait. A further ten minutes passed, then another, it
was looking as though Melody may not arrive after all. Ochre looked down at the
rose still in his hand.
"Well, let’s see," he murmured to
himself as he plucked one of the petals and let it fall slowly to the floor.
"She loves me," another petal, "she loves me not," another, "she loves me."
Ochre continued until the once
beautiful rose was almost stripped bare and a shower of white petals surrounded
his chair. About to pluck the last one, Ochre heard a voice behind him.
"Rick?" It was Melody.
Ochre plucked the last petal with a
broad smile and discarded the stem as he stood to greet her. "She loves me!"
Heading for the door, Ochre met
Melody before she had entered far enough to see the scattered petals and, taking
her arm, escorted her to a more secluded area of the Promenade Deck.
"I didn’t know whether to come or
not," she admitted. "Whether you were serious," she went on to explain. "You
know what a joker you are."
"Not with you, Mags." Taking her hand and raising it to his mouth, Ochre
gently kissed her fingers then brushed his cheek lightly against them. One look
from his warm, smiling brown eyes was enough to convince her that, at least now,
he was sincere.
***
Blue held the still damp cloth that
had been used to render Magenta unconscious. Destiny had found it at the foot of
the bed, almost out of sight. The sweet smell of the potent drug still clung to
its fibres and had gone a long way towards convincing them to hear Magenta out.
Blue looked up as Magenta reappeared from the bathroom reaching for the two ends
of his tunic’s zip, relieved to be, once more, fully dressed.
"Why didn’t you tell us?" asked
Blue with a sigh.
Magenta raised his eyes from
fastening the tunic zip; they were wide with disbelief.
"When? Every time I tried, you cut
me off!" Magenta pouted, feeling very sorry for himself. "And, Juliette, how
could you think…" Magenta paused, suppressing a surprised smile as he noticed
Destiny quietly reading the label on the bottle of massage oil. "Anyway, that’s
not an issue," he finished quickly, clearing his throat.
"Have you any idea who it was?"
asked Symphony with a meaningful stare.
"Oh, come on, you don’t really
think it was Ochre, do you?" Magenta asked with a frown. "Whoever this was
physically attacked me. Okay, it was a pretty cruel joke, but…no, I don’t
believe it for a minute."
"No, I guess not," Symphony nodded,
"but I did pass him in the corridor on the way here. I guess I’m just jumping to
conclusions."
"Anyway, I heard him, it wasn’t
Rick. Sounded really creepy to tell the truth," Magenta added with a worried
frown. "Ochre may have seen him though, where was he headed, did you see?"
"He went into the Amber Room as I
was leaving," advised Destiny with a shrug.
"Regardless, we have to let the
Colonel know what’s happened," Blue sighed.
"Oh no," Magenta shook his head
whilst waving his hands in front of him. "You are NOT telling the Colonel about
this! I’ve been humiliated quite enough, thank you!"
"We can’t not tell him, Pat,"
Symphony agreed with Blue. "We have visitors to Cloudbase, we have to consider
their safety as much as our own."
"Or even -," Blue began
thoughtfully, "- that they may be responsible."
"You can’t really believe that."
Magenta’s brow furrowed at the idea.
"But we can’t rule it out either,"
Blue reasoned. "So we have to tell the Colonel."
Magenta squirmed. "Well, I’m not
going to be there when you do!"
"Actually, Pat, you’ll have to do
it," Blue smirked. "You KNOW he’ll have questions."
Magenta sighed heavily as his head
drooped. "I can’t believe this! I really can’t!"
"He’s not going to embarrass you,
Pat," Destiny reassured him.
Magenta gave an exasperated frown.
"Yeah, like anyone COULD make it worse!"
***
The following morning, Captain
Scarlet sat in the pressurised observation room in the SPJ’s
hangar. He looked comfortable, yawning, with his feet up on the monitoring
console. Ahead of him, through the thick glass panel, he could see Captain Blue
seated and ready in the SPJ awaiting launch clearance.
"Shouldn’t you be doing something?"
asked Symphony pointedly.
"Done it," he replied with a
distinctly bored tone to his voice. "I’ve run through all the checks, twice,
there’s some sort of issue with a weather balloon, we’re waiting for it to
clear."
Scarlet yawned again.
"This is dull," Scarlet complained,
"I mean what are we doing this for? Surely the engineers…"
"The engineers don’t have to fly
these things, Captain Scarlet, don’t you think it’s better to have the people
who use them every day testing them?"
"Testing them, yes! Staring at an
overgrown calculator complete with fairy lights, no!"
Symphony raised an unimpressed
eyebrow and frowned.
"It can’t always be action, action,
action, you know."
"Captain Blue," came the voice of
Lieutenant Green, "you are cleared to leave the hangar."
"S.I.G.," came the crackly
response.
"Captain Blue, the SPJ’s communicator is breaking up, would you like to
postpone?"
"Negative, Lieutenant," came the
indistinct reply once more, "once airborne, I’ll switch to my cap
mic."
"S.I.G., Captain. You may leave the
hangar."
Scarlet lowered his feet and sat
upright. "Right, here we go."
Slowly the hangar ceiling separated
allowing in a flood of bright sunlight. Scarlet watched with mild interest as
the heavy doors continued to roll back, revealing a hundred foot by fifty foot
opening. He hadn’t observed the process for a very long time, possibly years. He
had almost always been inside the jet looking out. The hydraulic lift began
raising the SPJ but before it had even moved ten feet, the jet’s canopy flew
off. Scarlet’s eyes grew suddenly wide with horror and his mouth dropped open as
Captain Blue shot from the cockpit out through the hangar roof.
"Adam!" Scarlet and Symphony cried
in unison.
Symphony raced to the door of the
monitoring station but was held back from the controls by an equally shocked
Scarlet.
"It’s depressurised, there’s not
enough oxygen out there!" he explained, frustrated by the delay. "We have to
close the hangar bay and pressurise."
"Well, hurry up then! If we can’t
breathe out there, neither can Adam!"
"Get hold of Green," Scarlet
instructed as he set the hangar doors to close. "Find out all you can."
Symphony did as she was asked and
listened to Green’s reply with a complexion that paled with each word. Turning
to Scarlet, he could see that she was drained of all colour, shaking and having
difficulty holding back the tears that welled in her eyes.
"What? What is it?" asked Scarlet,
shocked at her appearance. Surely there was hope, after all Blue was fit and
healthy.
"The chute didn’t open," she
whispered almost inaudibly.
Scarlet was hit by a wave of
sadness so strong as to almost take his strength away. He wavered on the spot as
he took in the news. Then before him he saw Symphony; she looked frail, he had
never seen her looking so fragile, almost as though she would shatter at the
slightest touch.
Scarlet moved forward to take her
in his arms in a protective, supportive embrace. He had so long thought of her
as the sister he had never had. Her relationship with Blue had brought the three
of them close like a family and now it was time to comfort his ‘sister’.
As Scarlet took a step forward, the
door of the cabinet behind them flew open with such force it reached it’s
farthest point and started to swing back once more. Out of it tumbled the body
of a man moaning noisily.
Symphony screamed. Scarlet didn’t
know what made him jump more: the sudden surprise or the deafening and piercing
shriek in his ear.
They both turned and were at once
delighted and dumbfounded. Slumped on the floor, moving as though reluctantly
waking from a deep sleep, was Captain Blue.
Scarlet looked out of the window
towards the still closing hangar doors, back to the cabinet, then to Symphony.
They both stood for the slightest moment, rooted to the spot, unable to react,
before Symphony fell to her knees at Blue’s side.
Scarlet called for medical
assistance first, before informing Lieutenant Green of the bizarre events. He
smiled briefly as Symphony fussed over Blue, her tears, now of joy, dampening
his tunic.
"First Magenta and now this."
Scarlet rubbed his eyes. "I think we might have a problem."
***
Colonel White turned his seat as he
looked around the table. Before him sat Captains Scarlet, Grey, Ochre and
Magenta. White was frowning, deeply dissatisfied with the reaction to the report
Captain Scarlet had just delivered on Captain Blue’s attack and the subsequent
hoax.
"Captain Ochre, you are alone in
finding this situation amusing!"
"Looks that way," he shrugged, then
added, "Sir."
"Captain Ochre! You are running a
very serious risk of a charge."
"I’m sorry, Colonel," he began,
"but you have to see the funny side. Somebody switches Captain Blue for a dummy
and nobody notices!"
"Captain Ochre, may I remind you
that Captain Blue was attacked and is currently recovering in Sickbay. I don’t
see ‘the funny side’ of that!"
Ochre frowned; Colonel White was
right, he was alone in finding it amusing. "No, Sir," he conceded.
Colonel White directed a harsh
stare at the normally courteous and respectful officer, wondering if his love of
practical jokes had somehow blinded him to the seriousness of the situation.
"Gentlemen, we have a very serious
situation here. Somebody on board Cloudbase has attacked two of my senior staff.
I would like to hear your thoughts. Captain Magenta? Do you have anything to
say?"
Magenta frowned. Remembering the
particular predicament he had been left in did not appeal to him at all.
"Sir, Captain Blue commented that
the attacks had only started since the two doctors were brought on board. He
thought we should put them under surveillance."
"You’re blaming Lawson?" scoffed
Ochre.
"Well, it certainly wasn’t Hyde’s
voice I heard!" retorted Magenta. "Are you suggesting that Hyde could overpower
me? She’s half my height!"
"Don’t exaggerate! And we only have
your word for it that you were attacked!" Ochre snapped in return.
"Captain Ochre! The next time you
speak, it will be respectful and relevant, do you understand me? You can leave
your petty personal bickering for when you are off duty, but you DO NOT bring it
in here! Do I make myself clear?!"
"Yes, Colonel," Ochre grumbled in
reply.
"Captain Grey, what are your
thoughts?"
"I’m inclined to agree with Captain
Blue, Sir, but for different reasons. If it is them, we’ll soon know. If it
isn’t, we have to protect them. A discreet guard would be useful either way."
"I agree." White nodded. "Captain
Scarlet?"
"I agree, Sir, the last thing we
want to do right now is to postpone the project when we’re so close to
finishing, and as we don’t know who is behind it, we have to both protect and
watch our visitors until we know more."
"We are all in agreement then?"
asked White. "We place a discreet guard on Doctors Lawson and Hyde, but we keep
the information from them. If it’s not them, we don’t want to worry them. If it
is them, we don’t want them to know we’re suspicious."
Murmurs of agreement and ascension
followed, and with that, White concluded the meeting.
"Very well, gentlemen. I will make
the necessary arrangements. Thank you."
"Colonel?" asked Magenta.
"Yes, Captain?"
"Has Captain Blue been able to give
you any information yet?"
"Not much," White sighed. "He was
attacked from behind, as in your case, Captain Magenta. The same drug used in
both cases. Doctor Fawn has advised me that a bottle of it is missing from
Sickbay. I want you all to be vigilant. If you see or hear anything, I want to
know, straight away. Dismissed."
All four captains rose and headed
for the door, each one appeared pensive and concerned.
"What’s with you, baiting the old
man like that?" Magenta demanded turning to face Ochre as the door slid closed
behind them.
"What? You didn’t find it funny? Be
honest." Ochre sighed in reply. "Or are you getting as dull as the rest of
them?"
"The day I take lessons from you in
joie de vivre, I’ll resign!" Magenta replied stoutly.
"Picking up French phrases now?"
Ochre raised his eyebrows.
"Everyone knows that phrase!"
Magenta defended himself.
"Yeah, but not everyone pronounces
it correctly." Ochre revelled in the uncomfortable glance afforded him by
Magenta. "Anyway, I have to be somewhere. I’ll see you later!".
***
In the Amber Room, Melody was
nearing the end of her duty watch. Settled in a comfortable chair she turned
another page of the book she was reading and stifled a yawn. Looking up at the
clock on the wall, she offered up a slight smile, only thirty minutes remaining.
Having already spent four hours that morning in Angel one followed by a duty on
stand-by in the Amber Room, Melody was more than ready for a break and some
sleep. Ten feet away, Rhapsody was making a fresh jug of coffee. They had no
idea how long the existing jug had been kept warm on the hotplate, but it had
tasted decidedly stale. Rhapsody looked to her left as the door to the Amber
Room slid open and Captain Ochre entered. She gave him a smile and a small wave
as she continued with her task. She shrugged as he all but ignored her, his eyes
finding and never leaving Melody as she sat engrossed in her book.
"Mags?"
he said as he crouched down at her side. "Why don’t we get out of here and have
some fun?"
Melody turned from her book and
frowned deeply at him. "Excuse me?"
Ochre reached across and plucked
the book from her hand, closed it and placed it behind him without diverting his
eyes.
"Hey!" Melody cried. "I was reading
that!" she added trying to reach past him to pick it up again. As she leaned
forward he circled his left arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"You don’t need it right now, do
you?" he whispered, leaning in so that his lips brushed her cheek.
"Ochre!" His increasingly overt
advances in front of Rhapsody startled Melody.
"Don’t mind me!" Rhapsody
complained noisily. Melody looked in Rhapsody’s direction, her expression one of
embarrassment. "Melody?" Rhapsody stepped forward concerned by Melody’s obvious
discomfort.
"She’s fine!" Ochre snapped
glancing briefly over his shoulder. "Let’s go?" Ochre suggested with a grin and
a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Melody pushed Ochre’s arm away, but
he forced it back with some insistence. Drawing his arm back he practically
pulled her from the seat so that he now held her pressed closely against him.
"Don’t fight me, Melody, or I may
just have to throw you over my shoulder," he murmured into her ear. His tone,
whilst genial, somehow managed a vaguely menacing undertone.
"Captain Ochre," Melody began,
keeping her voice firm and controlled. "Let go of me, right now! I am on duty,
and I…"
Ochre shrugged lightly. There
seemed only one way to stop her complaints. He reached to place his right hand
behind her neck and gently, but determinedly drew her closer still until his
lips met hers in a soft, tender kiss. Melody gave a cry of objection, her eyes
opened wide with surprise as he held her firmly, refusing to relax his grip on
her. Melody was furious. With her face set in a resolute expression, she pulled
away and shoved him back away from the chair. Rocking on his heels, he steadied
himself and laughed.
"Don’t laugh at me, Fraser! How
dare you act that way…?"
Leaning forward once more and
without saying a word, Ochre wrapped his arms about her waist. With startling
ease he scooped up the astonished pilot and, with her draped inelegantly over
his left shoulder, got to his feet and headed for the door.
Melody gasped with surprise as she
found herself looking down Ochre’s back. She hadn’t realised quite how tall he
was until now. It was a long way to the floor, but she had no intention of
letting him do this. It was so undignified! Bracing her hands against his back,
she tried to push herself off.
"Put me down!"
Melody was no match for Ochre’s
strength, but her struggles were making it difficult for him to keep her aloft
without a serious risk of dropping her. Again, without feeling the need to
comment, Ochre merely sighed in exasperation as he let her slip a little further
down his back.
"Don’t drop me, you idiot!" Melody
shrieked, as she looked set to fall.
Ochre smiled, taking her words as
acceptance of his behaviour and continued on his way out. As he approached the
door, he noticed Rhapsody staring, open-mouthed at his actions. He nodded
politely in her direction, then rolled his eyes as he pinned Melody’s legs with
his right arm to prevent her slipping further.
"Anyone would think she wasn’t
interested," he shrugged with difficulty as he paused waiting for the door to
slide open.
Rhapsody moved her mouth to reply,
but no words would form. She could only watch in complete and utter amazement as
the door closed behind them.
Left alone in the Amber Room, she
glanced up at the clock and realised that there was still twenty minutes to wait
before Harmony returned from Angel one. Where was everyone?! Gossip like that
really shouldn’t have to wait!
***
"Would you like to open the door?"
Ochre asked Melody casually.
"Captain Ochre…!"
"Call me Rick."
"Captain Ochre, put me down!"
"Look," he sighed, ignoring her
protests, "we can either go in here or I can carry you all the way to my
quarters. It’s up to you."
Melody sighed angrily. If that’s
what it was going to take for him to put her down then that’s what she would do.
At least in her quarters, she could throw him out. That would be very
satisfactory.
"Put me down first."
"No, I want to carry you in, I’ll
just turn so you can reach the controls. How about that?"
"Captain…!"
"Rick," he corrected again as he
turned and waited for her to open the door.
As the door slid open, Ochre
entered and pressing the contols to close the door,
headed for Melody’s bed.
"You have it looking great in
here," he nodded his approval as he gently lowered her onto the bed.
Melody stared up at him, at a loss
to know what was going on. Did he really not realise how furious she was with
him? Or was he just being deliberately obtuse?
"Captain Ochre!" she began as she
leapt from the bed. "I don’t know what you think you were doing back there, but
I do not appreciate…!"
Melody didn’t get to finish her
sentence as Ochre pulled her close for a soft gentle kiss. Surprised by the
action, Melody’s first instinct was to pull away. She stared with a mixture of
emotions jostling for position on her face. At first she felt only anger and
frustration at his presumption, but on seeing the disappointment in his eyes as
she pulled back, a second instinct took over. She didn’t actually want to pull
away. Her features softened and a slow smile formed.
"I was embarrassed," she explained
simply.
"I’m sorry," he whispered brushing
his lips against her cheek.
"You just don’t do that in front of
people." Melody slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer for
another kiss.
Ochre smiled and scooped her up in
his arms. "You don’t like this?"
"There’s a time and a place," she
replied settling herself comfortably.
"And is that here and now?"
"I should be on duty in the Amber
Room."
"Do you want me to take you back?"
Melody smiled and shook her head,
drawing him closer for another kiss.
***
The pool looked inviting to say the
least, but then, to Captain Grey, it always did. He enjoyed an evening swim most
nights, finding it helped him relax. It often felt very strange to him, even now
after all these years, that he was stationed so far from the sea. He was a Navy
man, it was in his blood and ever since he could remember he had felt happiest
in water. Even his father, a retired captain in the World Navy had been
astounded at just how comfortable and adept his son was in the water. A born
diver with his quick mind easily understanding the technology and physical
theory behind it, it was no surprise that he ended up helping to design the
prototype Stingray submarine for the WASPS at Marineville.
His interest in all things aquatic didn’t end there. He passed many long hours
studying, and although he had sat no formal exams on the subject, Grey was
knowledgeable in the field of marine biology and ecosystems. But now he was a
Cloudbase Captain and further from the sea than he had ever been in his working
life; the pool would have to do. Dropping his towel on a rail near the poolside,
he kicked off his shoes and prepared to dive in.
The room was suddenly plunged into
darkness, the only light coming from the pool itself as the underwater lights
shone upwards casting an eerie undulating blue glow on the walls and ceiling.
Grey sighed and wondered what was
going on. He hadn’t seen another soul in the pool area, so he figured that it
had to be a technical failure of some sort.
"I just hope it didn’t affect the
heating," he muttered to himself, staring at the lightly rippling water. "I’ve
had enough of cold water."
With the light from the pool, Grey
could see just enough to be able to head back towards the changing rooms but
stopped short as in the near silence of the cavernous room, a noise caught his
attention.
"Who’s there?" he asked with a
curious frown as he peered into the darkness. Not even the tiniest movement
caught his eye as he looked around. Shrugging he chided himself.
"You’re getting a bit jumpy, Brad,
there’s no one here but you."
"And me!" came a gruff almost
croaky voice behind him.
Grey’s eyes opened wide with alarm
as a sweet smelling cloth was clamped over his nose and mouth. Struggling to
free himself, Grey was simply overwhelmed by the strength of his attacker.
Unable to shake him off, Grey found himself weakening under the effect of the
drug soaked cloth. Slipping to the floor, he lay, still conscious but unable to
fight off the intruder as he pulled a length of cloth over Grey’s eyes, securing
it behind his head. He then bound Grey’s hands behind him and attached something
around his waist. A small bottle was waved under his nose and Grey found his
senses returning as he pulled away from the pungent smell.
"Up!" growled the voice.
Grey felt a pistol held against his
neck as he was dragged to his feet. Still unsteady and his mind fogged, Grey
staggered and swayed under the additional strain of what he now realised was a
diving weight belt.
"Up, I said!"
Grey found himself being pulled
upwards. Blindfolded he took a tentative step up, almost stumbling in the
process. The floor suddenly became unsteady and he realised he’d been dragged
onto the diving board. Next he felt his ankles being bound closely, but far
enough apart to allow him to shuffle his feet.
"Now, walk!"
"What?!" Grey replied astounded by
the order.
The gun was now pressed firmly into
his neck under the jaw line. "Walk!"
Grey could hear the light lapping
of the water below him. He was a fine swimmer, that was true, but with the heavy
weights tied around his waist and his hands and feet bound, remaining above
water would be simply impossible.
"I’ll drown!" he protested refusing
to budge.
"You might, but if you don’t walk,
I’ll shoot you, it’s your choice!"
Grey couldn’t believe what was
happening. Who was this maniac?
"Walk!" he yelled again.
Grey shuffled forward, slowly,
nervously. He had no idea how far along the board he was. One step in the wrong
direction and he could be dead in seconds. His only hope was that someone would
walk in and discover them. Too late. His heart sank as his toes curled around
the edge of the board.
"Who are you?" he asked bitterly.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to take one more step."
"And if I refuse?"
"No problem."
Grey felt the shove and heard the
maniacal laughter. He pitched forward, taking a deep breath as he fell. The fall
onto the cold tiled floor knocked all the air from his lungs and he gasped with
surprise. The laughter increased in both volume and pitch as Grey realised he
had stepped off the opposite end of the board than he had expected. Lying on the
floor, Grey gathered his senses as the laughter faded into the distance and he
heard a door open and close. Shivering, he tried to pull himself into a sitting
position and grimaced with pain, realising that he had hurt his right hip and
shoulder in the fall. Trying, from his memory of the pool area, to get his
bearings, Grey tried to crawl in the general direction of the changing rooms.
The pain of the motion threatened to overwhelm him. He felt sure if he’d been
able to see the room, it would almost certainly be spinning. Grey frowned
deeply, he was alive, but there was still a maniac loose on Cloudbase. The
‘jokes’ had started innocuously enough, but they had progressed to become
increasingly violent and dangerous and the only man aware of that fact was
currently bound and blindfolded on the cold tiled floor at the side of the pool.
There seemed to be only one course of action left open to him.
"Help!"
***
Magenta sighed; it had been a long
and eventful day. All he wanted to do was relax. He liked the Promenade Deck, he
liked all the greenery, it reminded him of home. Even though he had lived in
Ireland for only three years, he still regarded it as his home. Maybe it was
because of the tales his parents would tell him as he grew up, maybe there was
something inherently Irish in his way of thinking. He didn’t know. Neither did
he know why he still retained a hint of his accent, but he was glad he did. He
was proud of his ancestry and upbringing. Magenta headed toward a favourite
corner of the Promenade Deck. Looking forward to half an hour of peace and
quiet, Magenta headed away from the door. The scene that met his eyes made his
heart sink. Almost immediately, he knew that peace and quiet would have to be
postponed. Ahead of him he saw a chair surrounded by white rose petals near to
Colonel White’s rosebush.
It took only a brief examination
for Magenta to notice the blood stain on the thorn still on one of the main
stems of the bush. He shook his head in wonder.
"No one in his right mind would
touch THAT rosebush! Well, if you’re our man, you just hung yourself. With any
luck, Doctor Fawn will be able to find out who you are."
***
Ochre entered the corridor leading
to the Angels’ quarters and headed immediately for Melody’s door. The few hours
he had previously spent in Melody’s quarters had been without parallel. Simply
blissful. But, he wondered, could you really have too much of a good thing?
Waiting almost patiently he knocked. A few moments later, he knocked again and
again. Inside, Melody, taking a soothing shower, was oblivious to the noise.
About to knock once more, Ochre was suddenly distracted by the sound of singing
behind him, he didn’t recognise the tune, but it sounded sweet and inviting.
Crossing the corridor, he knocked on the opposite door.
"Come in!" called Rhapsody. "It’s
open."
Ochre opened the door. Ahead of
him, he saw Rhapsody with her back to him, dressed casually in a pair of smart
close fitting jeans and a simple white t-shirt. He stood for a moment, smiling
appreciatively. It didn’t seem to matter what she wore, she always looked
stunning; he felt she could make rags look elegant. She had just settled a
bottle of wine in some ice and was clearly expecting someone, presumably
Scarlet. But today, thought Ochre, Scarlet would have to step aside.
Ochre approached her, slipped his
arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck. At first Rhapsody succumbed with a
happy smile, but almost immediately she felt something was wrong; it felt
different somehow. Glancing to her right she caught sight of the man’s hair and
immediately she pulled away.
"Rick! What are you doing?" she
gasped with surprise.
"You invited me in," he replied
waving vaguely at the now closed door behind him.
"I thought you were someone else
and you know it!" she snapped in reply. "Besides, that doesn’t give you the
right to…"
"Easy!" Ochre cut in with his hands
raised defensively. "I just saw you were alone and thought you might like some
company."
"No, thank you, Captain Ochre, now
if you’d please leave," Rhapsody replied, still shaken by his actions.
"But," began Ochre, removing his
tunic and throwing it casually on a chair. "I only just got here."
Rhapsody glanced from Ochre to the
tunic and back, not knowing quite what to think. Was he joking? She felt
nervous, she had never felt like that in his presence before. There was
definitely something about him that was quietly menacing right now.
"Rick, I want you to leave, and I’m
not joking."
Ochre stared intently at her then
smiled wickedly. Quickly stepping forward, Ochre slid his arm around her waist
once more and pulled her close.
"Neither am I! But can you picture
Scarlet’s face when he finds out about the two of us?"
"There is no ‘us’!" Rhapsody
snapped.
Ochre merely laughed, giving her a
playful squeeze.
Astonished by his reaction,
Rhapsody stared up at him and received a further surprise as he leaned in, and
placing his left hand behind her head, kissed her softly, but firmly, refusing
to allow her to pull away.
Lifting his head once more, he
grinned with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction.
"You still want me to go?" he
asked, although it was clear he had no intention of listening to her.
"Yes, I do! How dare you!"
Ochre pulled her close for a second
more forceful kiss. She struggled and writhed in his arms to no avail; Ochre,
whilst always strong, seemed to be now almost unnaturally so. Placing her hands
on his shoulders and pushing with all her strength she managed to pull out of
the kiss, although she was left with the distinct feeling that he had allowed
her to.
"My, you are a feisty one!"
"Get out!" Rhapsody yelled. Lifting
her right hand from his shoulder, she slapped him across the face.
Ochre’s features grew dark as he
stared at her and suddenly Rhapsody felt real fear.
"So," he replied slowly, "you like
to play rough? I think I can accommodate that."
"Ochre, I want you to leave, right
now. Please, just go!" She struggled once more in his grip, but it was not, as
she initially believed, that he was oblivious to her distress, in fact, to the
contrary, it seemed to be encouraging him.
Rhapsody looked over his shoulder
as the door to her quarters slid open. She hoped desperately that Scarlet would
be standing beyond the door, but was almost as relieved to see Melody standing
there, until she spoke.
"So! I might have known you weren’t
serious!" She stood, obviously furious, still in the doorway. Rhapsody opened
her mouth to try to explain that she had not encouraged him at all; however,
before she could say a word, Ochre had spun her out of his grasp and had turned
to face Melody.
"What can I say?" Ochre shrugged
nonchalantly. "You weren’t there. You can’t expect me to wait around all day."
"If I can’t expect that, you’re not
the man I thought you were!" she snapped in return.
"You had no arguments on that score
yesterday," Ochre countered with a wicked grin.
Melody flushed with embarrassment
at the oh-so-obvious reference to their intimacy; especially now that he had
made a fool of her in front of Rhapsody. She knew that Rhapsody would certainly
not welcome his advances, but she was perfectly capable of telling him so
herself. Humiliated and upset, she turned quickly and left.
"Melody!" cried Rhapsody, horrified
at being left alone with Ochre once more.
Ochre shrugged as he turned back to
face Rhapsody. "Guess she realised we want to be alone."
"I want to be alone, Ochre,
now go! Don’t you understand, I don’t want you here!"
"You know, you could be a little
more friendly. I mean, I’m okay with the ‘playing-hard-to-get’ routine but
anyone’d think you were serious," Ochre stepped forward again, reaching
to caress her cheek.
Pushing his hand away forcefully,
Rhapsody turned a look of disgust and anger toward the American. "I am not
playing hard to get!"
Ochre smiled, but it was an
unpleasant, arrogant smile.
"I’m pleased to hear it," he
replied. Grabbing a handful of her hair he pulled her closer again and with his
other hand behind her back, held her for another forceful and unwelcome kiss.
Throwing his head back at the end, he laughed as she tried once more to pull out
of his grip.
"Why don’t I find out what else
keeps Scarlet coming back for more?" he asked quietly as he leaned in to kiss
her neck.
With strength borne out of fear of
his latest suggestion, Rhapsody finally managed to pull out of his grip. Taking
two steps back and almost breathless with apprehension and disbelief, Rhapsody
found that at first she was at a loss to know what to do. She was in shock, pure
and simple. This was Rick, a friend, a trusted friend and he was forcing himself
upon her. No matter how she tried, no matter how plain he made his advances, she
couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. Any moment now, she wanted
to believe, he would declare it to be a joke. But no. Now he was advancing on
her once more, the expression on his face told her that her fears were real. He
stood between her and the door. Glancing past him, she weighed her chances of
escape, they were slim, but she had to try. Rhapsody bolted for the door, but
his reactions were as fast as lightening. Wrapping his arms around her as she
tried to pass him, she didn’t even manage to reach the controls.
"Let me go!" she screamed, her arms
now held immobile inside his, she glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes
wide with horror as he began to drag her backwards towards the bed.
"Lights off," Ochre requested using
the voice command programmed into all of the quarters on Cloudbase.
The lights dimmed and Ochre smiled
as the room was bathed in the warm glow of the soft light from the illuminated
fish tank acting to separate the sitting area from the bed.
Rhapsody’s eyes grew suddenly wide
as she realised she had forgotten the communications system also operated on a
voice command.
"Comm!
Captain…"
Rhapsody got no further before
Ochre clamped a hand firmly over her mouth. With an aggravated sigh, he
whispered into her ear: "Two’s company, doll."
Taking a detour past the desk,
Ochre removed his hand from her mouth and switched the controls to manual.
"Rick, let me…" She was stopped
once more by Ochre’s hand.
"There now, we don’t want anyone
interrupting us and spoiling our fun, do we? Eh?"
Throwing Rhapsody down onto the
bed, Ochre kneeled astride her hips, pinning her arms to the mattress.
"You’re not going to persist with
this game and fight me are you?"
Rhapsody looked up, something was
clearly wrong with Ochre, this was simply not like him at all.
"Rick!" she demanded. "Let me go or
I’ll…!"
"You’ll what?" Ochre mocked.
"You heard the lady. Let her go!"
Scarlet shouted from beside the fish tank, hitting the light switch and looking
with a mixture of anger and horror at the sight before him.
Ochre turned his head and sighed at
the man that he saw as nothing more than an irritating distraction. Getting to
his feet he turned to face Scarlet. So, he wanted to fight for her, did he? Very
well.
"You wait there, babe, this won’t
take long."
***
"I don’t believe it," Fawn shook
his head.
Standing nearby, Captain Magenta
edged forward to see the DNA results himself. His eyes opened wide as he stared
at the paper.
"You’ve got to be kidding?" he
replied, his brows furrowed in disbelief.
"I wish I were," Fawn sighed.
"You’re telling me that blood
sample is Ochre’s?"
"That’s not all," Fawn shook his
head. "The blood is flooded with a variation on adreno-diethylamide."
"In English?" Magenta asked with a
frown.
"Plain English?" Fawn shook his
head again. "He’s doped to the eyeballs with some sort of performance enhancing
drug."
"Ochre would never take drugs!"
Magenta scoffed at the idea.
"I know, I have a hard enough job
getting him to take prescribed medication. Nevertheless, the amount of it in his
system is staggering."
Magenta thought about it for a
moment.
"Enough to make him act out of
character?"
"Yes, and no. Sort of in character,
but more so." Fawn frowned. "Much more so."
"So these ‘jokes’ that have been
played on us all?"
Fawn nodded. "Very possibly. But I
don’t understand how he’d get his hands on a drug like that, I don’t keep
anything like it. Or why would he take it for that matter."
"He was acting a little strange
even at the laboratory."
"Now, they’d probably have some,
yes," nodded Fawn.
"But he wouldn’t know what it was,
would he?"
Fawn and Magenta suddenly reached
the same conclusion at precisely the same moment.
"So somebody gave it to him," they
both said in unison.
"Was he ever out of your sight?"
"Er… yes,
Doctor Hyde took him on a tour," Magenta nodded.
"Our first port of call then."
"We can’t go accusing her of
drugging…" Magenta paused as something clicked in his memory. "Her experiments!"
"What! What experiments?"
"Doctor Lawson told me she was
doing research into performance enhancers. It looks like she’s somehow managed
to convince him to be her guinea pig!"
***
Scarlet approached Ochre with a
determination to make him pay for hurting Rhapsody. It didn’t even seem to
register with him that Ochre’s behaviour was completely out of character; the
look on Rhapsody’s face was enough to blind him to all such considerations.
"I don’t know what you think you’re
doing, Ochre, but it stops now!" Scarlet growled, his eyes burning with fury.
"You don’t know?" Ochre grinned.
"Well, all I can say is – poor Rhapsody. Maybe you should just turn around and
leave her with someone who does know what he’s doing?"
Scarlet lunged forward, throwing a
hefty right-hander, which connected with Ochre’s jaw sending his head wrenching
to his right. Ochre turned his head slowly back to face him and grinned again as
he nodded, acknowledging the power behind the punch. Scarlet found himself
merely staring in amazement. How could Ochre possibly still be standing?
"Not bad," he taunted, "but I think
you’ll find that it’s not quite enough." He shrugged lightly. "On the other
hand…" He turned slightly away, as if intending to give up but instead turned
back swiftly, landing a punch of his own that sent Scarlet reeling backwards.
"Now," Ochre laughed, "that’s a
real punch."
Scarlet stumbled against a table
set against the wall and regained his footing only to see Ochre turning back to
Rhapsody, and catching her wrists as she tried to shove him back away from her.
"My, my, Rhaps,
you’ve got more fight in you than your boyfriend. You should have been a man,"
Ochre grinned.
"So should you!" she retorted,
pulling fiercely away.
Ochre’s expression was one of mock
horror as he steered her so that she had her back to the bed.
"Rhapsody! You wound me!" he
replied with an exaggerated sigh as he released her, sending her toppling
backwards onto the mattress. Behind him, Ochre could sense Scarlet’s approach.
"Hold that position, honey," he added, ducking as he anticipated Scarlet’s move.
Scarlet’s bluff worked perfectly
and his foot impacted neatly with Ochre’s shoulder sending him spinning to the
floor.
"Ooh, clever!" Ochre jeered as he
rolled himself onto his knees. "You’re learning."
"Don’t get too cocky, Ochre, I’ve
been a soldier all my adult life, I’ve nothing to learn from you in combat
skills! But you’ve got a lesson coming to you, mark my words!"
"Less talk, more action,
‘soldier-boy’. Show me how good you are!"
Scarlet’s eyes narrowed at Ochre’s
disturbing grin and wild eyes taunting him, goading him, daring him to act. He
didn’t need much convincing; he had caught Ochre in the act of assaulting his
beloved Rhapsody and there was only outrage and fury driving him now.
"Get up!" yelled Scarlet at the
still kneeling Ochre. "Get up and fight!"
Ochre gave a short mirthless laugh.
"There’s one thing your soldier
training seems to have neglected to tell you." Ochre spun onto his hands and
swung his legs around in a single swift, deft movement, sweeping Scarlet’s legs
out from under him. He laughed as he watched the English captain crashing to the
floor with little time to break his fall. Leaping to his feet, Ochre stepped
forward pressing his booted foot down heavily on Scarlet’s neck. "Not everyone
fights fair," he grinned pressing his foot down harder and almost revelling in
the gurgling and choking sounds emitted by Scarlet as he struggled to breathe.
"Rick! Stop it! Let him go!"
Rhapsody approached quickly with the intention of dragging him off, if she had
to. "You’ll kill him!"
"Yeah, but for how long?" Ochre
winked, turning slightly as Rhapsody approached. "Maybe long enough to work out
how to kill him for good!"
Rhapsody couldn’t believe that she
had heard him say the words; even in jest, if that was what his grin was
implying. He wasn’t about to find out, however, as the moment’s distraction had
been enough to allow Scarlet a chance to get a solid grip on the heel and toe of
the gold coloured boot. Twisting it viciously as he forced it up, sending Ochre
hurtling to the floor with a yelp of pain. Face down on the carpet, Ochre
grimaced as Scarlet pushed a knee into his back and twisted his left arm behind
him.
Ochre slapped the floor with his
right hand as a wrestler might to admit defeat.
"Okay, there’s no need to be so
enthusiastic!" Ochre cried as Scarlet forced his arm further up his back, almost
to breaking point.
"What the Hell did you think you
were doing?!" Scarlet yelled applying even more pressure to Ochre’s back with
his knee.
Ochre gasped with pain. "Let go!
For pity’s sake, Scarlet, you’re gonna break my arm."
Rhapsody looked on with a pained
expression as she saw Ochre claw the carpet with the fingertips of his right
hand.
"Paul, don’t hurt him," she
whispered.
"He nearly…!"
"I know, but, something’s wrong.
He’s not himself, can’t you tell?"
Scarlet relaxed his grip slightly,
and, whilst still held firm, Ochre’s pain eased. "Then he’s dangerous!"
"Damn right I am!" Ochre took
advantage of the small respite. The momentary distraction was enough to throw
Scarlet off and for Ochre to once more gain the upper hand. Scarlet’s skill and
tactical ability far outweighed Ochre’s, but Ochre’s drug induced, increased
physical strength more than compensated.
Sitting astride his chest and
holding him by the throat, Ochre levelled his pistol between Scarlet’s eyes.
"I warned you that not everyone
fights fair!"
***
Melody looked up as the door to the
Officers’ Lounge opened. She had half expected it to be Rhapsody who entered to
commiserate with her, or even Ochre with a damned good apology. She sighed
audibly when it was neither of them. Instead she noticed Magenta and Doctor Fawn
standing in the doorway. At first she looked down, but there was something about
the expressions on their faces that drew her attention.
"Melody," Magenta finally spoke
after they had scanned the room. "Have you seen Ochre anywhere?"
Melody wasn’t in the mood to talk
about Ochre, not even to give people any information on his whereabouts, but
there was something sharp and undeniably urgent in Magenta’s tone. The very
presence of Doctor Fawn gave her an added concern. She stood up frowning.
"Why? Is something wrong?" she
asked as she approached the door.
"Have you seen him?" Magenta asked
again; the urgent tone in his voice had not been imagined.
"He was with Rhapsody before," she
explained simply.
Magenta’s face twitched with
sympathy for the Angel, having detected the sadness and anger in her voice.
"Was he acting normally?" asked
Fawn, unwilling to go into detail.
"What’s normal for Ochre?" Melody
snapped then cursed herself for being so obvious.
Magenta stepped forward and spoke
quietly to her. "Melody, we have to find him. He’s... not himself. He’s been
drugged, he might hurt someone."
Melody turned her eyes upwards to
meet Magenta’s. The look of horror on her face told him that his worst fears
about his friend might just be realised.
"Where is he?"
"Rhapsody’s quarters. I left her
alone with him. I would never..."
"It’s not your fault, come on!"
The small group ran from the
Officers’ Lounge and headed towards the Angels’ quarters near the Amber Room in
the carrier’s main platform.
***
Scarlet couldn’t believe it - Ochre
had a gun to his head and the determined almost frenzied look in his eyes told
him that he meant to pull the trigger.
"Ochre! What are you doing?! Rick!"
Ochre continued to stare at him,
but his expression was changing. It was as if he had just woken from
sleepwalking, with no clue of where he was or why he was there. He turned
puzzled eyes toward the gun in his hand, and then its target.
"Paul?" he whispered.
For a brief second, Scarlet
glimpsed the look of horror in Ochre’s eyes as his confused and drug-ridden mind
took in the situation. Then Scarlet saw Rhapsody, her expression one of fury and
single-minded purpose.
There was a momentary lapse as
Ochre hung between consciousness and oblivion, before crumpling to his left, out
cold before he even hit the floor. Behind him Rhapsody held the bottle of wine
that was chilling in the ice bucket on Ochre’s arrival.
"A very good vintage," croaked
Scarlet pushing himself onto his elbows with relief.
Before Rhapsody had even a chance
to drop to his side to check on him, she heard a hammering on the door
accompanied by calls to both her and Ochre. Rhapsody opened the door to an out
of breath Magenta, just as Fawn and Melody arrived to join him.
"Are you okay? Is Rick okay?"
Magenta demanded taking in the surprising scene before him.
"We’re fine!" replied Rhapsody.
"And he –" she glanced at Ochre with a look of disdain, "– is lucky to be
alive!"
Fawn dropped to Ochre’s side as
Scarlet hauled himself up, watching as the doctor checked the American over.
"He’ll be okay," Fawn announced
finally.
Magenta sighed with relief and
looked towards Scarlet and Rhapsody. From Scarlet’s protective stance, Magenta
could tell that Ochre had done something pretty appalling.
"What did he do?" he asked quietly,
almost reluctantly.
Scarlet’s expression darkened at
the memory of what he had witnessed, knowing full well it was much worse for
Rhapsody. Magenta chewed his lip as he noticed Scarlet’s murderous expression,
realising that it was something serious.
"How did you know he was here?"
Scarlet asked suspiciously.
"I told them," Melody replied
quietly. "Rhapsody, I’d never have left you alone with him if I’d thought for a
moment…"
He’s not himself, is he?" asked
Rhapsody diplomatically as Melody stood uncertainly in the doorway.
Magenta looked from Rhapsody to
Melody and sighed as he waved for Melody to enter. Glancing to Scarlet, his
expression was a plea for tolerance before nodding to Fawn to explain.
As Fawn told the small gathering of
his findings, it was hard to know which of the two Angels was benefiting most
from the comfort of the other. Having listened to Fawn’s discovery, Scarlet
discreetly disclosed a short summary of what had just occurred for Magenta and
Fawn.
Magenta sighed hopelessly,
producing a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. "Don’t really have much choice do
we?"
***
It was early the next morning
before Ochre woke, and he had been awake for several hours more before Magenta
arrived to check on him. Standing in the brig’s Surveillance Room, Magenta
watched the monitor in furious silence as Ochre stalked up and down the small
cell, pacing out a regular pattern, apparently muttering to himself. Beside the
Irish captain, Doctor Fawn looked on with an anger all of his own. Magenta,
caught up in his own thoughts, hadn’t even seen the doctor approach.
"Magenta?" Fawn spoke gently so as
not to startle him.
Magenta turned worried eyes toward
the man beside him. His concern switched to an unusual mixture of anger and
hopefulness as he saw Fawn.
"So?" he asked with ill-disguised
bitterness in his voice.
"She’s admitted everything. It
wasn’t planned. An opportunity presented itself for a guinea pig to test her
experiments, and she took it. She claims to have been monitoring him for any
significant changes in behaviour," Fawn explained without enthusiasm.
"But, look at him! How could she
check for changes if she didn’t know what he was like in the first place! How
could she not have noticed something?"
"Did you?" asked Fawn. "You know
him better than anyone, did you spot any differences?"
Magenta bit his lip in frustration.
"No, not really, not at first. A bit more outgoing maybe. Nothing I could really
put my finger on, anyway. The tricks he pulled on us, he didn’t behave like that
otherwise."
"He’s not stupid, Magenta, he NEVER
has witnesses!" Fawn sighed and continued. "Hyde didn’t see it either. As for
his other behaviour, the jokes, you and Grey even heard him but you were both
sure it wasn’t him." Fawn shrugged. "It was an effect of the drug. It was at its
most potent immediately on taking it. Its effects appear to have acted as a
dis-inhibitor as well as increasing strength and stamina. A side effect
was to deepen his voice in the short term. It’s no wonder you didn’t recognise
him."
"Okay," Magenta nodded, "we know
who, and a little about how and why. What about when? When will it wear off?"
Fawn chewed his lip. "I’ve never
seen anything like it, Pat."
Magenta’s heart leapt into his
throat; Fawn hardly ever used first names, often only when it was very serious
or bad news.
"I’ll have to do more research. I
just don’t know, not even if, never mind when."
"Do you know what’ll happen?"
Fawn looked down uncomfortably. "I
don’t know what the formula is yet…"
"But?"
Fawn pinched the bridge of his
nose. This was certainly nothing that Magenta couldn’t find out on the internet
within five minutes. "Other experiments of this nature have rendered the
individuals insane where an overdose has occurred."
"And has…?" Magenta couldn’t finish
the question.
"I don’t know, Pat. I really don’t.
He’s had a lot, possibly more than he was meant to, I just don’t know yet." The
frustration at being unable to answer Magenta’s questions was more than evident
in Fawn’s voice.
Magenta turned back to the still
pacing Ochre inside the cell. Fawn patted his arm sympathetically.
"I’ll do my best."
"Why wasn’t I allowed in the
meeting?" Magenta snapped, turning back as he did.
"None of the captains were there,
Magenta, it’s not as though you were left out. Just the colonel, myself, Hyde
and Lawson."
"I was at the laboratory when she
did this!"
"Magenta, you’d have lynched her
and you know it."
"Damn right I would!" he yelled
furiously.
"Calm down, Pat," Fawn admonished.
"He needs calm right now. Talk to him, maybe you can help."
Magenta nodded, curbing his anger.
"I’ve got to get back to my office.
We’ll do everything we can, I promise."
"We?" asked Magenta warily.
"I’m working with Doctors Hyde and
Lawson to find a solution."
"Hyde?!" Magenta cried in surprise.
"How can you let her anywhere near him after what she’s done?"
"Because she’s the only one who
knows what she’s done. Like it or not, she could hold the key to all this and
I’m not about to let that chance go. It wasn’t malicious, Pat, she’s as upset
about this as you are."
"No," Magenta waved a finger. "I
seriously doubt that."
"I’d better go. Talk to him,
calmly. See if you can get any sense out of him. One thing though..." Fawn
paused, unsure if he really wanted to say it, but was compelled. "Don’t go in
there with him, he’s dangerous right now. Unnaturally strong and cunning.
He’ll..."
"I get the picture," Magenta
replied abruptly, not wishing to hear the full prognosis.
Fawn nodded and turned away. As he
headed for the door, he heard Magenta head in the opposite direction towards the
cells.
Opening the inspection hatch on the
cell door, Magenta peered in only to be startled as Ochre suddenly appeared, his
face almost pressed to the grille.
"Pat, am I glad to see you!"
Magenta smiled, but it was short
lived as Ochre continued. He spoke rapidly, barely pausing to breathe.
"Pat, you’ve got to get me out of
here, they think I’ve gone crazy or something. You can see I’m not crazy, you
know I’m not. Fawn had me sedated but it didn’t last long, he wanted to put me
in a straitjacket, I talked him out of it though. You see, I convinced him I’m
not mad, but they still won’t let me out."
"Rick..."
"Come on, open the door, Pat, we
don’t have long. They’ll be coming back for me. I don’t know what they’re trying
to do but I won’t give them anything. Surely you’ve noticed. Why am I in here,
Pat? I haven’t done anything wrong. I have to get away, they want to keep me
locked up. Fawn, he wants to..."
"Rick!" Magenta yelled, followed by
a tired sigh. "I’m not here to let you out. I’m here to talk to you."
"Talk? What about? What do you
want?" Ochre stepped back from the door, suspicion evident on his face.
"Rick, no one’s out to get you.
You’ve had a tough time and..."
"You’re with them? I don’t believe
it! Pat, you can’t do this to me. Please let me out!"
Magenta could only stare with a set
face at his friend; the pair of them were in obvious distress.
"You!" Ochre continued, staring at
Magenta as if a long forgotten ghost from the past had suddenly reappeared. "I
should have known. You’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years, haven’t
you? Haven’t you?!" Ochre yelled approaching the grille once more. "Pat Donaghue
has Commander Fraser under lock and key! Oh, I bet you’re delighted! You’ve
waited a long time for this and now you’ve got exactly what you wanted."
"Damn it, Rick! This is NOT what I
want!" Magenta turned his head toward the ceiling and drew a slow deep breath to
calm himself. Looking back down, he noticed that Ochre had withdrawn back into
the cell, refusing even to look at him. "Rick, I’m sorry, really. Please!"
Magenta pushed his hand through his
thick dark hair. He sighed heavily as he watched Ochre curl up into a ball in
the far corner of the cell, rocking slightly.
"Rick?" Magenta called, only to be
ignored. Frowning with deep lines of worry clearly visible on his face, Magenta
unlocked the door.
Entering the cell, Magenta moved
cautiously towards his friend. As he approached he could see Ochre turn away
from him and, if it were possible, curl up even smaller.
"Rick?" he spoke softly as he got
within reaching distance.
"Pat?"
"Yes?"
"You’re so gullible!"
Ochre cackled as he swung his right
leg behind him, sweeping Magenta off his feet onto his back. Only at the last
second did the Irish officer realise Ochre’s intentions. Too late to move,
Magenta barely had time to break his fall before Ochre was on him, pinning him
down.
"Rick," Magenta began as calmly as
he could, "I’m not out to get you, or anything like that."
"I know," Ochre pulled Magenta’s
pistol roughly from its holster and shoved the barrel into Magenta’s jaw. "But
what if I were out to get you?"
***
Doctor Fawn pulled the read out
from the auto-analyser and sighed hopelessly.
"No luck?" asked Hyde.
"No, it’s not quite right. It won’t
work. We’re missing something, I know we are, but what?"
"We’ve been through every test I
can think of," Lawson admitted approaching Fawn to look at the data from the
latest failed batch of the antidote they were trying to make.
"He’ll need something soon," Hyde
began quietly. "The results we’ve found here suggest that he’ll go into
withdrawal."
"It’s addictive?!" Fawn yelled,
unable to believe that things were going from bad to worse.
"It looks that way," Hyde nodded.
"It would explain why he overdosed. The amount in his blood stream was way more
than it should have been. He must have taken more than I prescribed."
Fawn shook his head. "No, if I know
Ochre, and believe me, Doctor Hyde, I know him a lot better than you do, he
wouldn’t do that. If you told him two drops, that’s all he’d have used."
"But that’s not possible," she
insisted. "The amount in his blood stream…"
Fawn waved her to be quiet as he
pondered the problem. Slowly his eyes registered that an idea had come to mind.
"If it increases your metabolic
rate, it must be that that’s pumping up the amount in the blood stream. So, if
we apply the same idea to the anti-serum, the two should counteract each other."
"Is it safe to increase his
metabolic rate artificially whilst using an untried drug?" Lawson asked with
concern.
"We’ll put it through the
auto-analyser, that will run many more simulations with the known physiology of
Ochre as a test subject. Much more thorough testing than your drug, Doctor
Hyde." Fawn almost spat the word ‘doctor’; it was clear he had no time for those
who put their patients at risk to satisfy their own curiosity.
"It was a stupid thing to do, I
don’t deny it and I deserve your animosity. I’m truly sorry, really." Hyde was
plainly genuinely remorseful and ashamed.
"Well," Fawn frowned, "arguing
won’t get us anywhere."
Making the appropriate changes,
Fawn mentally crossed his fingers as he placed the new sample into the
auto-analyser. He waited the few seconds with his heart racing in anticipation
of what he hoped would be a positive result. As he read, the corners of Fawn’s
mouth turned upwards. The further he read the broader his smile got until he was
grinning triumphantly.
"We’ve got it!" he beamed at
Lawson. "Now, we’ve just got to find a way to get close enough to give it to
him!"
"You’ll have to sedate him again,"
replied Lawson. "But you can’t give him the drug whilst he’s sedated, you’ll
have to…" Lawson trailed off as he saw the dark expression on Fawn’s face.
"I know," Fawn growled, unhappy at
the prospect of placing Ochre under further distress. "And we’ll have to get it
right too, if he gets too upset, his heart rate will rocket with this drug and
there’ll be a risk of it stopping."
Lawson nodded.
***
Magenta stared up at Ochre. He
could see that his eyes were wide, his pupils dilated to that point that his
whole iris appeared almost completely black.
"Rick," Magenta tried his best to
sound calm. "Please, put the gun down."
"You weren’t going to let me out,
were you? Why should I do you a favour?" Ochre raised his eyebrows in a
questioning fashion.
"Rick, you’ve been drugged. We’re
friends, you don’t really want to kill me, do you?" Magenta prayed that Ochre
would still retain enough of himself to understand.
Ochre stared at him thoughtfully,
the look in his eyes was clearly one of conflict and doubt.
"Magenta?" he spoke slowly,
uncertainly.
"That’s right," replied Magenta
with a slight smile.
Ochre continued to stare at him
with uncertainty and mistrust.
"I don’t know what’s going on here,
but I’m not gonna wait around in here to find out
either!"
"Trust me, Rick. You can trust me."
Ochre pulled the pistol away from
Magenta’s neck; the Irish Captain’s relief was short-lived as Ochre swung the
butt into his left temple. Leaving Magenta lying unconscious on the floor of the
cell, Ochre got to his feet and gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. He was confused
and disorientated. Had Magenta been telling the truth? This was Cloudbase, he
knew that now, but they still had him locked up. He rubbed his eyes as he locked
the cell door behind him. He had to get away. He needed time. Time to think
things through. Time he suspected he didn’t have. Carefully, via a convoluted
path of service corridors to avoid detection, Ochre headed for the helicopter
hangar.
***
Captain Blue, now recovered from
the events of the previous day, flicked through the pages of the helicopter
flight plan. This was going to be the easiest of them all. Putting the
helicopter through its paces would be relatively easy and with all the tests
already performed, Blue had confidence that the final test would be completed
without a hitch. Placing the flight plan back onto the table, Blue looked
casually out of the glass panel in the hangar’s observation room. Down below,
one of the Cloudbase helicopters was undergoing drainage of its fuel to make way
for the test fuel. Blue checked his watch, another half hour to go before they
would be ready, plenty of time to run through some of the pre-flight checks.
Below the raised observation room,
Captain Ochre looked out from his hiding place and watched with interest. He
wondered how they could have realised his plan so soon, but here they were
draining the fuel from the helicopter, trying to prevent his escape. He nodded
to himself as he realised that it did mean that he was right about one thing –
they had been lying to him and couldn’t be trusted. Ochre looked down and pulled
the pistol topped with a deep pink-stripe from his pocket; it was time to leave.
Racing across the hangar, Ochre caught the technician unawares.
"Cut the pump and get out, I’m
taking the helicopter," he announced tersely holding the pistol to the
technician’s neck.
"Sir, there’s not enough fuel in
the helicopter, it’s practically drained," the technician advised him nervously.
Ochre checked the gauge on the
pump. "Looks fine to me."
"No, Sir, that’s the amount that’s
been drained," he explained.
"Do you take me for a fool? Remove
the hose and get out or you’ll get mighty cold when I open the bay doors."
"Yes, Sir," the man replied
hastily.
Ochre climbed into the helicopter
and waited for the technician to clear the hangar.
It was the sudden movement and the
light streaming into the hangar that made Blue glance up from performing one of
the safety checks. Only seconds later the stressed voice of the technician
sounded over the room’s communicator.
"Captain Blue, Captain Ochre is
taking the helicopter, but it only has a few minutes of fuel left in it. I tried
to tell him, but he wouldn’t believe me!"
"Close the bay doors, stop him
leaving!" Blue ordered.
"I’ve tried, Sir. He’s overridden
the command."
"Get the other helicopter ready
immediately, with respirators and a jet pack."
"Yes, Captain."
Blue activated his cap microphone.
"Scarlet, Ochre’s escaped. He’s
taking the test helicopter, it’s got virtually no fuel," he explained hurriedly.
"The other helicopter’s being readied with respirators and a jet pack to follow
him. I’m stuck in the hangar. You’ll need a pilot."
"On our way, inform the Colonel."
"S.I.G." Blue looked out once more;
the hangar doors had almost completely opened and the hydraulic lift was already
in motion. "Hurry, Scarlet," Blue whispered.
***
"Melody, please come with me.
Hurry, I’ll explain on the way," Scarlet barked to the Angel seated opposite
him, as he rose from his seat in the Officers’ Lounge.
Melody heard the urgency in
his voice and followed without question. As they headed for the helicopter
hangar, Scarlet briefly outlined the problem and what he saw as their only
solution.
"Get the bay doors open, fast!"
yelled Scarlet to the hangar technician as he and Melody ran in and settled
themselves in the helicopter.
Opening on an emergency setting,
the bay doors slid back in only seconds. The lack of a complete depressurisation
procedure caused a sudden whirlwind in the bay sending objects and papers
tumbling in all directions, but it gained them valuable time as the hydraulics
pushed the helicopter to the flight deck less than a minute behind Ochre’s
craft. Setting the blades in motion, Melody lifted the helicopter quickly and
gracefully into the air.
"Lieutenant Green," began Melody,
"I have effected an emergency take off. Do you have a fix on Captain Ochre?"
"S.I.G., Melody," replied Green.
"Bearing of two forty degrees from your current position and flying at thirty
two thousand feet."
"S.I.G., Lieutenant."
Making the appropriate adjustments,
Melody headed at maximum speed towards Ochre’s position. It seemed only a matter
of seconds before they could see the second helicopter and were drawing near.
Behind Melody, Scarlet pulled on
the jet pack, respirator and helmet. "Get as close to him as you can and try to
contain him. I’m going to board it."
Melody frowned. "Captain Scarlet,
at this altitude, you’ll freeze."
Handing Melody a second respirator,
Scarlet shook his head. "My retrometabolism should protect me to some extent,
but I’ll have to be quick. Besides, if I don’t do it, he’ll be killed. There
must be virtually no fuel left. It’s not as though he can eject from a
helicopter."
Melody frowned and added with
concern. "That’s all very well, Captain, but won’t he freeze?"
Scarlet paused and nodded. "We’re
going to have to time it just right then. We won’t have time to force him down.
We’ll just have to hope it works."
Melody drew as close as she could
to the other helicopter; she could see the frustration in Ochre’s eyes as
to his mind they were coming to recapture him.
"Good luck, Captain," she said
through her respirator as Scarlet powered up the jet pack and left the
helicopter. Even with the craft’s heating full on, Melody found the chill air
even for those few seconds quite distracting. She wondered how it would affect
Ochre, flying without a respirator, when Scarlet boarded his helicopter.
Approaching from the rear of the
craft, Scarlet mentally thanked Melody for keeping Ochre’s attention firmly on
her helicopter as he reached the door. Holding on, he slid the door back. Almost
immediately it was as if Ochre had lost control of the helicopter as it started
to spin erratically. Suddenly short of oxygen and bitterly cold, Ochre’s mind
reeled. The controls blurred and his eyes refused to focus. Slumping forward,
Ochre soon lost consciousness sending the helicopter into a dive. Melody watched
in horror as the craft started its descent, accompanied by the sound of tortured
metal as the blades continued to try to turn against the stresses and pressure
of the air as it dropped at high speed. She prayed that Scarlet had managed to
hold on and could get inside in time.
With the assistance of the jet
pack, Scarlet hauled himself inside the helicopter and headed for the cockpit.
Dragging Ochre away from the controls, he attached a spare respirator over his
nose and mouth. About to try to pull the helicopter out of its dive, Scarlet
cursed as above him he heard the blades starting to cut out as the last drops of
fuel were used up. Unbuckling the harness securing Ochre to the seat, Scarlet
frowned as he saw him starting to wake.
"I’m sorry, Rick, but I really
don’t have time to fight with you again."
"What…?" It was all Ochre managed
to say before Scarlet swung the butt of his gun down on the side of his head.
Ochre slumped once more and Scarlet hauled the unconscious American captain from
the seat.
"You are going on a diet, my
friend," Scarlet grunted as he tried to hold the dead weight of Ochre securely
before heading back to the still open door. Scarlet looked up, now thankful that
the blades had stopped turning; it was one thing less to worry about as he
stepped from the helicopter, placing his trust in the power of the jet pack to
hold the pair of them sky-borne. He watched the helicopter drop away below him
as he struggled to hold the unconscious Ochre aloft whilst Melody flew down to
pick them up. The helicopter had almost disappeared from sight, but the
explosion as it hit the ground was seen as a highly visible ball of fire,
several seconds before the sound of the blast reached them.
***
"Okay, okay! You were right, I was
wrong." Magenta tried to push Fawn’s hands away only to receive a harsh stare.
"Do you want it in writing? In blood?"
"I got it in blood!"
"No," Magenta corrected, "I
got it in blood!"
"You’re lucky he didn’t kill you!
You’re a fool, Magenta and yes, I would like it in writing! If only to be able
to show you every time you do some other fool thing!"
Magenta scowled. Two stitches had
been needed to close the wound made by Ochre’s gun. Magenta had been unconscious
less than thirty minutes, but getting out of the cell had taken almost as long.
It had seemed an absolute age to him before somebody had heard his calls for
help and released him, all the while the terrible, throbbing headache had just
got worse and worse. Now the headache was the least of his worries.
"Anyway, I have other patients so
I’ll leave you with Nurse Simpson and I’ll see you later," Fawn said sternly as
he headed for the door.
Magenta frowned deeply as Fawn
walked away.
"Patrick, if you knit those brows
any more, you’ll have a sweater before the day’s out!" The West Indian nurse
stood only a few feet from where he sat. "And don’t roll your eyes at me, young
man!"
"Would I, Martha?" Magenta grinned.
"Yes, you would!" she replied with
a grin of her own.
"Have you heard anything of Ochre?"
Martha pursed her lips. "Yes, he’s
in one of the other rooms, he’s sleeping."
"Great!" Magenta got to his feet.
"Which room?"
Martha placed her fingers lightly
on Magenta’s chest. "I’m not done here yet and Doctor Fawn has requested ‘no
visitors’."
"No visitors? Why?"
"Oddly enough, I didn’t question
him on the matter and neither should you."
Magenta’s brows furrowed deeper
even than they had earlier; something felt wrong.
***
Fawn entered a small ward near the
back of the medical centre, his already face set with concern, darkened visibly
as his eyes fell on the figure lying on the padded leather consulting couch in
the centre of the room. As the door opened to admit Fawn, the man turned his
head, revealing terrified eyes to the Australian doctor. Doctors Lawson and
Hyde, stood beside a table laid out with preparations of various drugs and
equipment also turned as the door opened.
"He’s ready," Lawson said simply.
Fawn drew his lips into a thin line
as he looked from the two doctors back to his patient, Captain Ochre, lying on
the couch. Ochre appeared scared, very scared. The drugs inside him had built to
the point where he couldn’t really be expected to accept that what was happening
was for his own good. In truth, it was hard enough even for Doctor Fawn to
accept it, but it seemed the only solution. Even without further doses, the
amount of the drug in Ochre’s system had risen dramatically as his increased
metabolism and adrenalin boosted what he had already taken. As he approached
Ochre, Fawn frowned deeply as he noticed the restraints holding his patient
firmly to the padded surface.
"Captain Ochre," he began softly,
"can you hear me?"
Ochre’s eyes had been fixed on Fawn
from the moment he had entered the room. His fists were clenched and Fawn was
willing to guess that all his muscles were equally tense.
"Captain Ochre?" Fawn asked as he
looked down at the nervous captain. "Do you know who I am?"
"I don’t know," Ochre replied
quietly. "I thought so, but the Fawn I know wouldn’t do this to me."
"You’re wrong, Ochre, this is for
your own good. You’re ill, we can make you feel better."
"I feel fine. Let me go!" Ochre
begged.
"Doctor, the sooner we begin, the
better," Lawson spoke from behind Ochre.
"I know, I know," Fawn sighed. "I
just don’t want him unnecessarily distressed."
Lawson glanced down at Ochre’s
anxious features. "I think it’s a little late for that. He’ll be distressed no
matter what happens."
"Fawn?" Ochre pleaded almost in a
hushed whisper.
"Captain Ochre, you have to trust
me," Fawn continued gently. "You have been given something that’s made you quite
ill, I’m going to make you better, but you have to relax. Do you understand?"
"Why am I restrained?" Ochre asked
as calmly as he could, but Fawn could hear the nervous tension in his voice.
"We feared that you might try to
fight the treatment, or us. Now, Ochre, please just relax. I’m going to give you
an injection. Okay?"
Ochre furrowed his brows; it was
clear that he was deeply uncertain. Whilst he recognised Fawn, the situation in
which he found himself made it difficult to trust him, especially in his present
state of mind.
"Ochre?" Fawn asked again.
"Doctor Fawn, we don’t have time,
we have to do this now," insisted Lawson.
Fawn frowned in frustration.
Couldn’t Lawson see that their patient was scared and confused? He had to relax,
it was vital.
"Ochre, do you trust me?"
Ochre searched inside himself and
gave a brief cautious nod.
"Good," Fawn smiled reassuringly,
"we’re not going to hurt you."
Lawson offered Fawn the syringe
with a quiet sigh of relief and watched as Fawn administered the injection.
"Your pulse may quicken a little,
Ochre, but we’ll be keeping a careful watch on you. You’ll be fine."
Ochre twitched as he felt a sudden
surge of energy accompanied by blind panic. He strained on the straps holding
him down, his eyes growing wide and wild as he tossed his head from side to
side.
"Damn it!" Fawn cursed as he saw
all the attached monitors register a sudden surge in heart and brain activity as
Ochre’s adrenalin count rocketed. "Give him a shot of RD90, ten cc’s."
"Is that enough?"
"Just do it!" Fawn snapped.
The door behind them slid open to
reveal Captain Magenta framed in the doorway. His eyes widened at the sight
before him. Racing in, he pulled Fawn’s arm turning him to face him.
"What are you doing to him?!" he
yelled. Turning his head, Magenta saw Lawson approach Ochre with a second
syringe. "Fawn? What are you doing?"
"Captain Magenta, get out now!
You’re making it worse."
Magenta looked up furiously at
Lawson as he prepared to inject Ochre.
"Get away from him! You…" Magenta
suddenly stammered in disbelief as he looked between the two visiting doctors.
"You’re helping Hyde with her experiments aren’t you?"
"Pat!" came the panicked voice of
Ochre, amidst all the sudden confusion and commotion. "Pat, help me, please!"
"Let him go!" Magenta insisted.
"Lawson, give him that injection,
now!" Fawn cried as he tried to pull Magenta to one side.
In his fury, Magenta easily pushed
the Spectrum doctor aside and rounded the couch on which Ochre lay. Around them
monitor alarms sounded, warning them that Ochre’s condition was rapidly
worsening.
"Leave him alone!" Magenta yelled
seizing Lawson’s hand. Wrenching the syringe from his hand and casting it aside,
Magenta landed a heavy punch squarely on his jaw.
Ochre’s body convulsed as the new
drug took control. Beyond its healing properties, its unpredictable effects on
Ochre’s already fragile nervous system was too much for him to cope with. As
Fawn headed swiftly in Magenta’s direction, a warning sound that even Magenta
understood sounded behind him. A continuous beep rather than the erratic flutter
he had previously heard made him turn and stare in horror, first at the monitor,
then Ochre himself, lying suddenly still on the couch. Fawn caught Magenta by
the tunic.
"We’re trying to help him! Get
out!" he yelled angrily, shoving him to one side.
Magenta stared as the three doctors
headed swiftly to Ochre’s side, swiftly exchanging opinions on treatment as they
worked to resuscitate the American captain.
"He…he’ll be okay?" Magenta
stammered, realising, too late, what he had done.
"Out!" yelled Fawn irritably.
Magenta swallowed hard and nodded
quickly as he backed away, almost stumbling in the process. Outside the ward,
Magenta slumped into a chair and leaned forward with his lower arms resting
on his knees. He struggled to breathe, almost gasping in the shock of seeing
Ochre effectively die in front of him. He clasped his hands tightly together as
though praying and still breathing heavily he sat with his hands drawn up to his
mouth, eyes closed, rocking ever so slightly.
"Patrick?" came a gentle voice.
Magenta looked up. Before him he
saw Nurse Simpson; the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.
"I might have killed him?" he
admitted in barely a whisper.
"Patrick," she sighed. "Doctor Fawn
knows what he’s doing. He’ll be okay."
"You don’t know that, you can’t be
sure!" Magenta protested bitterly.
"No, but, I’m sure," the now calm
voice of Doctor Fawn came from behind Magenta’s chair. He now sprang to his
feet, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and relief.
"He’s okay?" he hardly dared ask
the question.
"He’s very ill," Fawn sighed, then
nodded. "But he’s going to be okay. He’ll be here in Sickbay for about two weeks
though, but I guess that’s the least of his problems."
"I…I’m sorry," Magenta shrugged,
ashamed of his actions and accusations.
Fawn nodded and sighed. "I know,"
he sighed again. "I know."
***
Four days later, life on Cloudbase
had pretty much returned to normal. The fuel had successfully completed its
trials and the doctors had returned to their laboratory. The following week,
Doctor Hyde was to face a disciplinary hearing, which Colonel White was to
attend. White had deliberated long and hard over the situation. She had almost
killed one of his senior staff, and yet it had been wholly unintentional. Her
rash actions, however, could not simply go unpunished. He had a lot of thinking
to do.
***
"So," Magenta threw his cap onto
the bedside cabinet. "How are you feeling?"
"Rough," Ochre admitted. "And…I…"
Magenta raised his eyebrows; it
wasn’t often that Ochre was lost for words.
"What?" he prompted.
"Well, I did some terrible things,"
Ochre sighed heavily.
"You remember?" Magenta rubbed his
eyes. "We were kind of hoping you wouldn’t. We know that wasn’t really you, Fawn
explained it all. The drug, it changed you."
"But Rhapsody…" Ochre looked away
ashamed by the memory of his actions.
"Was as worried about you as we all
were. Anyway, it’s official," Magenta laughed. "Only someone completely under
the influence of a drug like that could shred one of the Colonel’s roses and get
away with it!"
"Pat, I’m sorry." Ochre’s eyes
looked everywhere except at Magenta. "You know for… the whole thing in
Symphony’s room."
"Oh, don’t be," Magenta grinned.
"Opened up a whole new world."
"You’re telling me that…?" Ochre
began incredulously
"I’m not telling you
anything!" Magenta replied guardedly. "Anyway, what about Melody?"
"What about Melody?" Ochre replied
cautiously.
"This is ME here, Rick. Besides,
you weren’t exactly being discreet."
"All sorted," Ochre nodded gravely.
"What do you mean, sorted?" Magenta
asked with dread.
"I told her it was the effect of
the drugs. That I wasn’t in control. I apologised and it’s all behind us now."
"You idiot!" Magenta snapped.
"What?" Ochre pouted defensively.
"You and her? It’s the only good
thing that’s come out of this!"
"And the fuel," Ochre corrected
pedantically.
"Oh! F… forget the fuel! You really
are witless, Rick! Can’t you see what’s right in front of you?"
"What?!"
Magenta shook his head sadly. "You
might have been doped up, but Melody wasn’t."
"You mean, she…?"
"Yes!" Magenta sighed turning
disbelieving eyes to the ceiling. "Look, you can still fix this."
"I can’t just go up to her and… no…
I…I can’t, not now."
"You’re shy, aren’t you?" Magenta
realised, a broad grin covering his face.
"No! I just don’t think now’s the
right time."
"Oh, sure," Magenta sounded
unimpressed. "When will be?"
"Pat, you don’t understand. I do
care about her," Ochre sighed hopelessly, "very much so, but I embarrassed her,
hurt her."
"I’m sure she’d understand,"
Magenta nodded as he rose from the seat. As he turned, he smiled cheerfully at
Melody standing in the doorway. Wondering how long she had been there, he turned
back and picked up his cap.
"Maybe now is the right time, after
all? I’ll see you later."
Leaving the ward, he offered a
bright smile to the Angel as he passed by. As she approached, Ochre pushed
himself to a near sitting position in the bed, his expression one of uncertainty
and apprehension.
"Melody? I’m glad you came," he
began.
THE END
Some events and characters Copyright © of all trademarks materials (Captain Scarlet & the Mysterons, all characters, vehicles, crafts, etc.), owned by ITC/Polygram/Carlton. Information of the series are all been taken from copyright © materials (books, magazines, videos, T.V. media, comics, etc) owned by ITC/Polygram/Carlton.
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