Chapter One
As a consequence of three
captains being involved in the Volcano mission - and Captain Scarlet’s
consequential disappearance whilst on active duty - everyone was facing
additional duty shifts back on Cloudbase.
Yet Captain Blue detected nothing but concern for their missing colleague from
the personnel that he encountered as he made his way to the Control Room.
Colonel White had decided to
debrief Blue and Grey immediately on their return.
As he listened to his officers’ reports, he quickly realised that whilst Blue’s
report laid the blame for the accident that led to Scarlet’s disappearance on
himself, Grey’s report indicated strongly that Blue was no more or less to blame
than the rest of them.
Finally satisfied that he knew
as much about the whole mission as he ever would do, he dismissed them, but as
they reached the door he called out, “Captain Blue, a word if you please.”
Blue returned to stand before
the desk, obviously expecting to be reprimanded.
The colonel looked at his officer with some concern.
He was well aware that Blue tended to assume the responsibility for Scarlet’s
‘mishaps’ a little too readily at times.
He suspected the American felt some guilt that his partner was always the
one to take the risks – often with fatal consequences. Even knowing the unusual circumstances
attached to Captain Scarlet, it would be a natural enough feeling; especially as
the two men had become close during the years they had worked together.
“Sit down, Captain.” White
invited. “I have heard your reports and drawn my own conclusions – which we do
not need to discuss. What we do need to discuss, however, is
how we are going to get him back…”
Blue’s relieved grin lit his
face and he looked more optimistic than he had since he returned to the base. “Yes sir, Colonel.”
“You believe we can retrieve
him?”
“Absolutely - even if the
initial accident killed him, he’d revive and he must be holed up somewhere.
Whilst I was diving, sir, I saw the entrances to several caves along the foot of
the volcano – it is conceivable that there maybe a pocket of air trapped in one. I would like to go back and investigate the possibility. If he is in there, we have to try to get
him out, sir.”
“Hmm, well, this time we’ll do
it my way, Captain. No sneaking off to… what was it Green
told me? – biological research establishments in Maryland...”
Blue squirmed at this
reference to the time Scarlet had – apparently -- been thrown out of Spectrum
for gambling debts. Determined to discover where his
friend had gone, and why his behaviour had been so out-of-character, Blue had
left Cloudbase armed with his cheque book and without permission, to try to find
his friend and solve the dilemma he was in. The colonel had been surprisingly
good-natured about it afterwards - largely because his plan had banked on the
fact that Blue would try to help his friend – but Blue knew such incidents of
insubordination did not get forgotten.
“Yes
sir…” he mumbled.
White’s lips tightened as he
fought his smile. “We still need to find the remnants of the volcanic pacifier
if possible; I don’t like the idea of its being found by anyone but Spectrum,
Captain. We don’t know who was financing the
scientist’s research, but the machine’s potential for misuse is too great for us
to ignore.
However, Spectrum is not really equipped for such a job and I propose to request
the assistance of the WASPs in retrieving it.
I cannot let Captain Grey handle the matter – he is too well-known by members of
the service and it would jeopardise his cover – but you are the next most
accomplished diver we have and you also know what they’ll be looking for. Whilst
they are scanning the sea bed for the machine, you can look for Captain
Scarlet.”
“Yes sir, thank you, Colonel.”
“You will need an assistant, I
think. That, in itself, could present a
problem. With you and Scarlet away
from Cloudbase, I will need all my other senior officers here. I am still not convinced this
Mysteron threat is over and done with.
I may be a pessimist, but it seems to have been dealt with far too easily.
However, there are few Lieutenants with much diving experience, and none of them
are entirely familiar with Captain Scarlet’s… abilities. That only leaves the Angels…” White was having a damned
hard job not to grin at the expressions flitting across his officer’s face. “I’m not sure if any of them are
experienced divers…are
you aware if any
of them have the necessary skills?
Captain Grey speaks very eloquently on the dangerous nature of the tides in that
area; it won’t be an easy job.”
“Well sir, I have been giving
Symphony some lessons… in diving,” Blue stammered.
The colonel raised his
eyebrows. “Have you? That must explain why you two keep having the same
furloughs then…” Blue flushed. “Perhaps you had better take her along…
to lend a hand.”
“Yes sir, Colonel.”
“You should call Marineville
and speak to Commander Shore and ask him for a crew to help with the search…
Dismiss, Captain Blue and … good luck with
your search.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Chapter Two
Captain Scarlet wasn’t sure what woke him, but he heard voices, in the distance
- quite definitely voices. Angry
voices… Gently he laid Garnet on the sand and
crawled towards the opening in the roof above the dead bodies. The voices became clearer.
“We’ve gone far enough…this is a wild goose
chase.” It was a man’s voice, American and vaguely familiar, despite the
distortion of the echo.
“Just to the next cave, please?
It can’t hurt to try a last one.” A woman’s voice this time, English, by the
accent, and less familiar.
“You’re too soft-hearted, Flax,” the man said.
“You wouldn’t want her to die, now would you?
Well, would you? Oh no, you
wouldn’t! Now, shift that rock -
there’s a dear.”
“I am not a dear!”
“How right you are…”
Slowly the rocks above them moved. A few fell onto
the sand, crashing onto the narrow beach.
“Watch it!” Scarlet yelled.
“We’ve found them!
I told you we would. Scarlet, Garnet! Are you there?”
“Yes, we’re both here, but Garnet is weak.
She’ll need help.”
The voices faded slightly although he could tell
the female was shouting, “Get ropes, quickly - and a stretcher.
Alert medical we have incoming wounded!
Yes, we’ve found them both! Tell
the colonel!”
Scarlet crawled back to Garnet and shook her
awake, encouraging her to crawl towards the hole. “We’ve been rescued, Claudia!
Just a little way and they’ll save you.”
Waiting impatiently for their rescuers beneath the
hole in the cave roof, he knew there would be questions about the other bodies.
Perhaps the rescue squad would know more?
After all, he couldn’t be sure that the Mysterons hadn’t been trying to
accomplish their threat by an alternative means whilst he’d been incarcerated
here. They’d want to use the Mysteron detector on Garnet, sure
enough… he glanced at Claudia, there was renewed hope in her tired face and she
was staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.
Eventually he saw movement and a rope was dropped
into the cave, then a tawny coloured boot appeared and
he recognised the strong figure of Captain Ochre and the identity of one voice
was resolved.
“Ochre - am I glad to see you!” Scarlet stood to
grab the rope Ochre was sliding down.
Captain Ochre turned his dark eyes on him and said
coldly, “Well, I guess even I am a better option than dying down here.” He
looked at Garnet, who was sitting, trembling, by Scarlet’s feet.
His glance at Scarlet was heavy with reproof. “They’re sending a sling; we’ll
have you out of here soon enough, Claudia.” He stooped to her side and reached a
hand to touch her face. She turned
away, alarmed at his familiarity.
Scarlet stared in uncertainty.
As far as he knew, Ochre had never met Garnet and here he was addressing her
like some long lost friend. Perhaps
he knew her from his pre-Spectrum days, but if so, why hadn’t Garnet mentioned
it? He waited, watching as unseen people in
the cave above sent down a canvas sling.
Ochre carried Garnet to it, fastening her in with such a solemn
tenderness that it was obvious, even to the bemused Scarlet, that he had deep
feelings for her. Both men watched
as the sling rose in a series of jerks into the cave above and several pairs of
arms bent to assist Garnet to safety.
Once she was safe, Scarlet turned to Ochre and
said, “There is something you ought to see, over by the rocks there… I think
they may be Mysterons…”
Ochre
peered into semi-darkness and squinted.
“What exactly am I looking for? There is nothing there, Scarlet.”
Scarlet peered into the gloom. He rubbed his eyes. He knew his night-vision was better than
average – another result of his Mysteronisation was enhanced senses – and even
he could not see the bodies. He
moved a little closer to get a better view of the dark niche and could not
prevent a gasp – all he could see was the imprint in the sand where the bodies
had been.
Ochre heard the gasp and turned cold eyes on him.
“Have you got a problem, Lieutenant?”
Lieutenant? Scarlet’s tired mind reminded
him of the identity pass in the name of Lieutenant Scarlet. He’s pretending we’re the people whose bodies
we found. Why would he do that,
unless this is part of some elaborate hoax?
he thought angrily. Damn you,
Richard Fraser, just you wait till I get back to base and get some rest – I’ll
make you pay for this!
“Mind you, after all of this, you’ll be lucky if
White doesn’t bust you down to private,” Ochre continued. He looked up as the
rope descended again. “Get up there, if you can, before I change my mind and
leave you here.”
Too confused to argue, Scarlet made a stirrup in
the rope and slid his foot into it, allowing the unseen officers in the cave
above them to pull him upwards. It had been an exhausting regeneration and he
was hungry and extremely thirsty. He certainly did not have the strength to shin
up the rope unaided. For once, he thought, I might not even protest about Doctor Fawn’s tendency to cosset me
when I get back to Cloudbase – right
now a long sleep in a comfortable bed seems like a wonderful idea.
A pair of arms grabbed him and heaved him into a
cave very similar to the one he had just left.
He rolled away from the edge as the rope was thrown down once more and glanced
around at the people there. He
didn’t recognise most of them, they must
be local agents, he thought, but he did know the only woman amongst the
group. Lieutenant Flaxen gave him a
rueful smile and turned anxious eyes on the emerging Captain Ochre, but before
he looked at her, the expression had changed to one of tolerant reproof.
“You okay, Captain?” she asked him in an off-hand
tone that belied her previous concern.
“Never better, Flax, how about the Scarlet
Pimpernel here?” Ochre scrambled upright and stared with irritation at Scarlet.
Flaxen smiled.
“‘That damned elusive Pimpernel’” she quoted with a grin at the American
officer. When she looked at Scarlet
it was with a much less tolerant gaze.
“Well, Lieutenant Scarlet, I guess we can wait until we’re back on
Cloudbase before we hear your explanation for all this. You are lucky we carried on looking for
you - and you can thank Lieutenant Garnet that we did. If you’d been alone, we’d have gone home hours ago. Can you walk?”
“I think so,” Scarlet muttered sourly. If this was
their idea of a joke, he didn’t think much of it.
“Come on, then,” she urged.
“I’ve had enough of this place to last me a lifetime.”
He struggled to his feet and stood unsteadily as a
tremor rocked the mountain. As he
looked downwards, through the roof of the cavern, the distant floor beneath him
distorted and shimmered as he heard the powerful pounding of the waves on the
shingle beach and the rattle of stones as they were sucked back into the
turbulent waters. The air crackled with a static
electricity that gave him goosebumps.
He blinked in disbelief as, for a split second; he thought he saw Adam, sprawled
on the shingle. Before he could
draw breath to call to him, the image vanished.
A firm hand grabbed his arm and he turned to see
Flaxen‘s face at his side, “Steady Scarlet, you might not survive another fall
down there.”
“Thank
you, Flaxen,” he stammered. He saw a small frown form between her eyebrows.
Ochre’s voice cut in, “That is Captain Flaxen to
you, Lieutenant. And before we go any further, Flax, I think they should
both be tested with a Mysteron detector…”
Scarlet turned angry eyes on Ochre – this wasn’t something he should be making a
joke about. Garnet had nearly died down there and
she’d been through a lot since she disappeared.
Even though they knew he would pull through, they ought to be able to see
he wasn’t his normal self yet. He
liked this prank less and less with every passing minute.
Scarlet was about to argue the point when Flaxen snapped, “Don’t be silly, we
haven’t got one with us.” She gave Scarlet a withering glance but her tone
softened slightly, “Besides, if they were Mysterons, do you think they’d be
looking quite as feeble as they do?
Garnet was covered in cuts and bruises and Scarlet looks washed-out.
You know a Mysteron never looks like that!”
“We’ve
just never seen one look like that,” Ochre argued.
“If it was part of their scheming plots they could probably look like death
warmed over. I want them tested,
Flax, just as soon as we can!”
“Let’s
get them back to Cloudbase and sort it out there,” Flaxen sighed.
“I don’t like this place, it gives me the creeps.”
“It’s
not the place, it’s the company,” Ochre muttered and started his walk across the
boulder-strewn cave.
Flaxen
stared with some exasperation after the captain. She glanced at Scarlet who was
looking in confusion at them both.
“Ignore him, Lieutenant. He’s just
being his usual grumpy self. Can
you walk? Take my arm if you need to…”
Scarlet declined her offer of assistance with some
haughtiness and he set off after Ochre, determined to make the journey under his
own steam.
As he
staggered across to the distant exit, he could see entrances to many more
tunnels all around this enormous cavern.
There were holes leading into further caves beneath this one and above him the
roof was laced with dozens of apertures of various sizes, many opening to a
bright, sunlit sky beyond. The
light filtered down through them, highlighting the rocks and crevices and
throwing grotesque and somehow threatening shadows on the floor and distant
walls. Even as they walked, they could feel the ground trembling,
and the echoes made by distant rock falls combined with an almost subliminal
rumbling to make the heavy, sulphur-drenched atmosphere disturbingly menacing.
The air was bitter with the smell of volcanic gases mixed with rotting seaweed…
there must have been occasions when even this cavern was under water.
Captain Scarlet shivered despite the excessive heat. The whole place is as unstable as a house of
cards, he thought. It won’t take much to make the
whole network of caves and tunnels collapse in on itself.
His
mind, tired and bemused as it was by his tough recovery, was struggling to make
sense of recent events. Either someone had orchestrated a pretty
pointless practical joke - and the nature of this joke wasn’t typical of Ochre -
or something very strange was happening.
He wondered why Ochre was leading the rescue party, where Blue and Grey
had gone and why Flaxen was there.
If anyone had been with Ochre it ought, by rights, to be Captain Magenta –
because those two were as much a team as he and Blue.
As
they climbed slowly upwards towards the main exit, he registered the
increasingly powerful pulse of the vibrations he had first noticed when he’d
been alone with Garnet. The nature of the pulse and the fact
that it was rhythmical led him to believe his first deduction had been correct
and that this was the signature of a third volcanic pacifier. His alarm increased as neither Ochre nor Flaxen seemed unduly
worried by the fact that the machine was working. Given what they had learned about the Mysterons’ threat and
Gaspari’s plans, he felt sure an attempt should be made to deactivate it as soon
as possible.
“Is
someone going to stop that machine?” he asked.
It is possible that’s where Blue and Grey are, he thought, rather irritated
at being kept in ignorance of events.
Ochre
gave a disparaging snort and turned to him, his dark eyes bright with anger, “I
thought better of you, Scarlet, I thought you at least had held out against the
Agency and their scheming. If I had
had my way, when we found out what you were trying to do, I would have left you
here to rot!” Flaxen tried to calm him but to no
avail. “How dare you involve Claudia in the Agency’s foul schemes? She quit Cloudbase to avoid that filth
and you drag her back into the mire!” he railed.
Flaxen
laid a restraining hand on Ochre’s arm.
“You have no proof he’s with the Agency, you know you don’t!
The colonel told us Scarlet was convinced that the machine had to be
switched off – he wouldn’t even explain it to White. Now, if he was out to do the Agency’s dirty work, would he
have told the colonel where he was going?
And, in all honesty, would he have involved Claudia? Well, would he? You’re letting your personal emotions cloud your judgement,
Richard…. It’s really not like you.”
Ochre
turned away, shaking her hand off.
With a sigh she spoke to the mystified Scarlet in a far more conciliatory tone,
“Lieutenant, the machine is preventing the biggest eruption forecast in a
decade. There is no way any one of the Spectrum personnel down here would let
you get within spitting distance of that machine, given your stated aim is to
destroy it! We are here to protect lives by
protecting that machine. I’d advise you not to pursue it any further and then
maybe you’ll have a job at the end of all this.”
“Huh, catch Whitey throwing out another Brit!”
Ochre glared across at him. “Personally I would like to see you booted out of
the whole organisation, but I suppose the
old school tie will come into play again and you’ll get off with another
reprimand. You Brits infest the place like
‘roaches.”
“Shut it, Ochre!
Or have you forgotten that I’m a Brit too?” Flaxen spoke with considerable
vehemence. “You make me sick! All of you Yanks
think you are so damned superior and without any good reason too! Just remember what nationality Magenta
and Blue are before you cast stones at the English! Sometimes, of all the Americans on the base you are the
worst, Richard Fraser!”
“Did I ever tell you how pretty you look when
you’re mad at me?” Ochre laughed. “Sorry Audrey, I don’t think of you with the
rest of them.”
He strolled on ahead and Scarlet, standing close
to Flaxen, heard the sadness in her voice as she murmured, “No, you don’t think
of me at all, more’s the pity…”
~oo0oo~
Nothing had become any clearer by the time the SPJ
arrived at Cloudbase. Scarlet spent the flight back trying to
make sense of the last few hours. Ochre’s belligerence towards him continued and
Flaxen was too preoccupied with the plane to curb his antagonism. Garnet was
sleeping on the emergency medical bed, an intravenous drip attached to her arm.
It was noticeable how frequently Ochre came back to check on her; although how
he could possibly know her remained a mystery. Scarlet tried his best to ignore
him, consoling himself with the thought that when the colonel debriefed him, he
could use the opportunity to complain about his colleague’s erratic behaviour. He rather hoped Doctor Fawn would insist
on his remaining in the peace of sickbay for the night, so that apart from his
usual visits from Blue and Rhapsody, he needn’t see anyone until he felt better.
The
SPJ landed on the hangar nearest to sick bay.
Usually, if he was conscious and able, he insisted on walking to his medical
check-up, but this time he climbed onto the gurney Fawn had sent with a feeling
of relief. He lay back and charted their progress along the corridor by the
numbers of ceiling lights that passed overhead.
Once in sick bay, Fawn chose to deal with Garnet first, and Scarlet lay quietly,
his mind still puzzling on the strangeness of his homecoming. Staring
distractedly at the wall of the men’s ward, it gradually dawned on him that the
wall calendar was from last year and no one had bothered to update it. He’d have to remember to tease the
ultra-efficient Fawn about it later.
That
set his mind off on a trail of memories and he recollected an instance - a
couple of years ago now – following Black’s return from Mars, when the Mysterons
had made an attempt to trick a senior officer into betraying Spectrum.
They had tried to make Captain Blue believe that he was being
interrogated by Spectrum Intelligence after an unauthorised absence from duty.
Blue had grown increasingly suspicious and finally, desperate to avoid the
threat of being subjected to a truth serum, he had trusted his hunch that this
place was not what it seemed, and thrown himself through the glass of the
‘Control Room’s’ observation tubes.
He had only fallen a few tens of feet, landing on a huge screen, where a
sky-scape of clouds was being projected to create the illusion of height.
Dazed and shaken by his fall, Blue had staggered from the warehouse he was being
held in, to discover Scarlet had just arrived in a SPV. His partner had tracked him down, after his
disappearance from the waterside restaurant where they’d shared a relaxing
off-duty meal. Blue’s coffee
had been drugged with a powerful sedative, presumably by a Mysteronised waiter,
and the unconscious officer had been spirited away when Scarlet went to collect
their coats.
He had
been fortunate in picking up the trail quickly and having collected an SPV he’d
driven to the semi-derelict warehouse, determined to rescue his friend.
Once Blue was safely clear, he had destroyed the fake Cloudbase.
Afterwards, back on the real Cloudbase, he had
gone along to sick bay, delighted to be the one doing the visiting, for once.
Blue had been tucked up in bed, his dislocated shoulder bandaged against his
chest and the wooziness created by the abductors’ sedative quite worn off. Unusually for Adam, he had questioned
the decision to destroy the warehouse, arguing that they might have interrogated
the men to some advantage. When Scarlet had finally pointed out that once a plan
failed, Mysteron agents tended to - quite literally - drop dead as their masters
removed their control from the replicas, the invalid had sunk into a moody
silence.
The
incident had unsettled Blue profoundly and Scarlet could remember the earnest
way his partner, in his de-briefing, had explained just how he had become
increasingly distrustful of the unfriendly man pestering him to reveal the
cipher codes.
It was rare for the Mysterons to repeat a scenario
from their ‘war of nerves’, but what if this situation was another such
elaborate attempt, this time to get him to reveal classified information - or
much worse - to betray him into the Mysterons’ control once more?
He vowed to stay alert and on guard until he understood why things seemed so…
different.
~oo0oo~
When
Fawn arrived to do his medical he was surprisingly off-hand and what was more,
he too maintained the pretence of calling him Lieutenant.
Scarlet was more irritated than ever and - especially as Fawn usually refused to
take part in Ochre’s tricks - he resented that the doctor saw fit to join in
now, when his most frequent patient was really not feeling as well as he
expected to. After his
examination Fawn signed him off-duty for forty-eight hours, telling him to go to
his quarters and rest. Scarlet was surprised - it wasn’t like Fawn to pass the
opportunity to run tests on his retrometabolism.
Too tired, and too offended, to argue, he dressed and left the sick-bay without
saying good-bye.
Walking along the corridors he began to wonder if it would not be wise to check
where exactly his quarters were supposed to be… as this ‘joke’ seemed to be
wide-spread maybe he was being set up for some ‘surprise’ or other.
Besides, all this uncertainty was starting to unsettle him.
He wandered into the library and called up the
assigned quarters file on the computer – relieved to see his passwords still
worked. If he was supposed to be a lieutenant he
wouldn’t be entitled to a room on Captain’s Row - as it was called informally –
and he couldn’t believe Ochre would have dared to tamper with the base records
just for a joke. He punched in his
name and code number and was amazed to see that his room was listed as being on
the lower deck rather than in the control towers where he expected it to be. With increasing alarm he checked the
allocation of rooms on Captain’s Row and found Blue was in his usual room, with
Ochre next to him on one side and Grey on the other. Across the corridor where he expected his room to be,
sandwiched between Magenta and Fawn, was Captain Flaxen. Good job I didn’t go home
then, he thought ruefully. With
no heart for this confusion any more, he wandered miserably to his allotted
quarters – half expecting Ochre and his co-conspirators to leap out at him when
he opened the door.
His password released the lock and cautiously he walked inside. The furniture in the narrow, windowless room was familiar
enough. He spent some time
wandering around looking for the things he expected to have in his room – and
everything was there – although the book on his bedside table was one he
remembered reading some time ago.
With an air of resolution he turned to his diary - not his duty diary, of which
he could find no sign - but the personal one he had started keeping after his
encounter with the Mysterons. His mother had given him the diary when he started
Spectrum and it was really just a heavy leather-bound book.
He had not bothered to write in it until after the events at the Car-Vu,
when he found it helped him come to terms with the strange circumstances of his
new life. Somehow it formed a
kind of compensation for the missing six hours when he could not recall what he
had been doing.
The diary was where he kept it and a quick glance
at the pages showed he had been writing in it.
If this is anything except an elaborate hoax by everyone in Spectrum this will
explain it, he thought.
He settled down to read it and after the first few pages he looked up in
surprise and disbelief. He didn’t remember writing this and the date given was
the same year as the calendar in sick bay.
Some incidents were the same as he remembered, but not everything by a long
chalk. He switched on the Spectrum computer on his small desk and checked the
date on that…. It was last year!
Unnerved, he stooped automatically to the bottom shelf of his bookcase and moved
one volume to reveal his malt whisky.
He poured himself a small glass and settled down once more with his diary.
Several hours later, the whisky was untouched as Scarlet finished the diary
entries - which stopped about a week ago.
He couldn’t believe what he’d read, but he knew it was his writing and that –
however determined he was to play one of his pranks – Ochre would never have
stooped to actually violating another person’s privacy.
Once
his mind had recovered from its surprise, Scarlet allowed himself to start
thinking the unthinkable. Over the years he had seen countless
Science Fiction films and TV programmes about alternative realities and
pan-dimensional universes, and he was not unaware of the theories the concept
had spawned. In fact, it hadn’t been so very long ago
that he, Blue and Doctor Fawn had been talking about just such a possibility.
Blue
had walked in to the Officer’s Lounge, carrying a magazine and with his habitual
courtesy he had returned to the doctor.
“What did you make of it” Fawn
had asked. He was paying one of his rare visits –
Scarlet suspected it was a way to check up on his recovery after a nasty
incident with a chemical spillage.
“He makes it sound…
plausible,” Blue
had replied. Then, for his partner’s benefit, he had explained that the article
in question was by an eccentric physicist exploring the possibilities of
parallel universes.
“Doc leant me the magazine to read, whilst I was
waiting for you to….wake up, yesterday.
I hadn’t finished it by the time you surfaced, but I managed to read the rest
while I was duty officer last night.
It’s quite thought provoking - not only does Professor Coombs believe these
alternatives exist, he believes they can be accessed and – possibly – exploited
to our advantage.”
“And you think that is
plausible?” he
had scoffed.
“I have an open mind about
it,”
Blue
had confessed.
“It is fascinating to think that there might be
countless alternative Worlds out there.
Hundreds of Paul Metcalfes, dozens of Cloudbases and regrettably, even a couple
of Richard Frasers!”
He
remembered how Adam’s laugh had been rather forced – he had been the butt of
Captain Ochre’s pranks rather a lot lately. He rather regretted bursting Blue’s
enthusiastic bubble, but he had had to say it:
“And hundreds of Captain
Blacks?”
The
lively, good-natured and largely pointless discussion that had ensued had lasted
until suppertime. At the end of it all, Scarlet remained
sceptical – especially about the possibility of gaining access to these unlikely
Worlds - but here he was in the classic situation of being a stranger in his own
life.
Scarlet caught sight of his reflection in the plain wall mirror. “What was it Sherlock Holmes said?” he
asked his frowning reflection. “‘When you
have eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?’ Well, okay then, Sherlock, let’s put it
to the test."
He
placed the book on the table and walked to the tiny shower-room.
He found a razor blade, steeled himself and made a cut cross the middle finger
of his left hand. The stinging pain
made him wince and he watched the blood welling up from the deep incision. Seconds later, the bright red blood
splattered onto the brilliant-white ceramic sink, and he sucked at his finger
before he ran it under the cold water tap for a moment. Then he waited. As he expected it to,
the blood stopped flowing almost immediately and the scar tissues formed across
the cut. Minutes later the cut was
virtually healed. He sat on the bed and stared at his hands.
His
entries into the diary had spoken of how the Mysterons had murdered Captain
Ochre – Spectrum’s security expert - and his partner, Captain Brown, and how
Ochre had subsequently kidnapped the World President.
Captain Blue had trailed the fugitive, and his prisoner, to the London Car-Vu
where, after a vicious gun battle, Ochre had fallen to the ground. The body had been brought back to
Cloudbase – he had flown the plane with Blue and the World President in the
passengers’ seats. Ochre had recovered from the fall – Ochre had been restored
to Spectrum – Ochre was the one with the ‘gift’ of retrometabolism!
He found it hard to assimilate the information -
and impossible to reconcile with the fact that his finger now looked as if it
had never been cut. He knew he still retained his
retrometabolic skills but he had to come to terms with the fact that - here and
now – it seemed as if Ochre shared that accursed gift. Although, he had no proof
that this was true, beyond the diary entries.
Ever since the start of his retrometabolism he had experienced a feeling
of nausea and shakiness in the presence of other Mysteronised objects – like a
sixth sense warning him of their presence. It was not always accurate, but given
his proximity to the man and the time he had spent in Ochre’s company, he’d have
expected some twinge. But he had
felt nothing. Perhaps that sense would not function if he was in another
dimension?
At
least the diary explained why Doctor Fawn had shown no expectation that he would
see signs of retrometabolism.
Scarlet pulled off the plasters and bandages - which prudence had made him
retain - from the cuts and bruises Fawn had dressed.
The skin beneath them was unblemished.
He knew who he was and he knew who Garnet had said
she was – and he believed her. He had certainly not experienced the dizziness of
his ‘sixth sense’, whilst they had been in the cave together.
Of the people he had met since his rescue, Ochre, Flaxen, Fawn and everyone else
he had met looked and behaved much as he expected them to - or almost. There were subtle differences if you
thought about it - Ochre was moodier than expected, stroppy almost and
apparently romantically involved with a Lieutenant he shouldn’t even know. Flaxen was a calm, efficient officer,
who had flown the SPJ without a qualm. Garnet had been in charge at Naples -
that was the same - and he had recruited her help.
There
were copious references to her early in the diary, when she must’ve been on
Cloudbase. He recalled Ochre’s comment about her leaving to avoid the Agency’s
schemes - that rang true at least, even if he didn’t know which schemes she was
keen to avoid. He shifted uneasily as he remembered how
the diary had spoken of Lieutenant Garnet in glowing terms and, eventually, with
much affection. It seemed that his
‘other self’ was very much in love with the young American, so much so that they
had become engaged before she left for Naples. It might even explain the impulse he had had to comfort her
in such a physical way in the cave,
and the pleasure he had taken in kissing her.
He thought guiltily of Rhapsody Angel; there was no mention of her in
this diary, apart from a few casual remarks about ‘The Angels’ in general and
one complaint that she was a snob.
As for
himself - Spectrum’s Premier Agent, as the media insisted on referring to him –
he was an ordinary Lieutenant. Scarlet frowned, from his reading of the diary;
his other self sounded a somewhat self-important man, full of his own concerns
and with an arrogant assumption that he knew better than his colleagues. He knew
that some people thought of him as pushy, people who didn’t know of his ‘unique’
circumstances, and couldn’t understand why he got assigned to so many missions.
He wasn’t unaware of the - not uncommon - belief that he was deliberately
hogging the limelight and that Blue was being overlooked because of it.
It wasn’t the case, he knew that and so did Blue. He couldn’t find a logical explanation
for the situation he was in – or any explanation at all - other than this
‘parallel world’ theory.
What
was even more frustrating was that, in situations like these, he invariably
turned to Captain Blue and together they’d brainstorm a solution to fit the
known facts. Here, he was not sure what to do because
it was likely Blue would be as different as everyone else. There were no references at all to Adam and fewer than he’d expected to Captain Blue, even though they seemed to
have had some contact during and immediately after the World President’s
abduction. From this evidence it would appear that he and Adam were not the good
friends they ought to be.
He lay on the narrow bed and stared moodily at the
ceiling, his mind reviewing the known facts.
Basically, as far as everyone here was concerned, he was not the person he knew
he ought to be and no one, except him, was surprised.
After a time he sat up, this was getting him nowhere. He glanced at his
reflection. The face that looked
back was the face he knew, black-haired, blue-eyed, square-jawed, cleft chin -
in need of a shave again – but it was looking tired and dispirited.
He
stripped and stood for an age under a hot shower, and then he shaved, and
brushed his teeth. He felt better physically, looked much better but still felt as
confused as ever.
Damn it,
he thought, purposely dressing
himself in the smartest uniform in the wardrobe.
I don’t care if it isn’t the Adam I know it ought
to be… I have to talk this through with someone… and it isn’t going to be Ochre!
As he walked along the corridors, he nodded at
familiar faces and was largely ignored for his trouble.
At the end of ‘Captain’s Row’ he hesitated and sent up a quick plea to the Fates
that Blue would be the same. Then he rang the bell and waited.
He could hear movement in the room and shifted
from foot to foot as the delay dragged on.
He was about to knock when he heard the internal lock being activated and the
door started to slide open. His jaw
dropped as he saw a tall, blonde woman smiling quizzically at him.
“Captain Blue?” he croaked as his heart
sank.
She turned with a languid grace and called, “Adam,
honey, it’s for you.”
Scarlet breathed again. He glanced into the room
to see the familiar broad-shouldered figure of Captain Blue emerging from the
bathroom, buttoning a shirt.
The blond man glanced at the open door with a
slight frown, which deepened noticeably as he saw who was waiting to speak to
him. His head went back and he drew himself up, with an almost
defensive air.
“What can I do for you, Lieutenant Scarlet?” he
asked sharply.
“Please,
sir, I need to speak to you -
privately. If that is convenient,”
he added, made acutely aware that he was the subordinate here by Blue’s
reaction.
The American shrugged. “Sure, come on in.
I’ll see you tomorrow, Heidi.”
The woman, who Scarlet now noticed, was wearing a
white medical uniform but extremely impractical shoes, nodded briskly, “And make
sure to do those exercises I’ve shown you - or the shoulder muscles will seize
up again.” She massaged his right shoulder. “You are a naughty man, Captain, I
expect my patients to do as I tell them and to behave themselves. Even I can
only do so much for you without your co-operation and I can’t tell Doctor Fawn
you are fit for duty unless you exercise.”
Blue grimaced as he tucked the shirt into the top
of his denims. “Yeah, well, I can’t promise - but I’ll
try to make the time. I have a date
tonight.”
“You should not have time for dates if you can’t
do my exercises! You are the very limit, Adam!” She stood
on tiptoe and kissed the tall man’s cheek. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Oh, it’s just Rhapsody Angel.”
Scarlet froze -
Rhapsody! Oh no, please not that!
“That’s the second time this week, isn’t it?”
Heidi said with a wink.
“Yeah, she’s on a crusade to get me to take her to
Glyndebourne - they’re doing ‘The Marriage of Figaro’ and she wants me
to meet her folks there.” Blue gave a heartfelt sigh and assumed an expression
of patient suffering.
Heidi laughed, “What it is to be the answer to
a maiden’s prayers, eh, Adam?”
Blue sighed again and lowered his blue eyes
modestly.
Scarlet watched this by-play in astonishment.
Adam never flirted like this and he knew how deeply Rhapsody loathed
doing what she called ‘the whole
opera-as-a-social-event-scene’.
Well, HIS Rhapsody did…
he thought ruefully.
“Well, enjoy yourself and if you can’t be good -
be damned careful!”
“Heidi, you know I am
always good,” Blue leered as he ushered her out.
He turned his back to the closed door and gave an exasperated sigh. “Thank goodness, I thought she would
never go. I owe you one for your timely intervention, Scarlet.” He glanced at
his visitor and moved away to his desk, to stand looking at him with some
wariness.
“Your shoulder is giving you trouble?” Scarlet
asked with an assumed air of casualness.
Blue did not move like a man in pain, nor was he favouring his ‘injured’
shoulder.
“Yeah, some.
I think she enjoys pummelling me too much to let the shoulder actually heal up.”
“Is she new?”
“Heidi? Goodness no, she’s been here for ages - I
thought she must’ve got her talons into everyone by now.
I guess you’ve been lucky, Lieutenant, if you’ve avoided ‘Heidi, the Hanoverian
Crusher’ until now. The Waffen SS would have turned her down for being too brutal.” Blue seemed amused.
“It must be doing you good if it’s hurting that
much,” Scarlet suggested cagily.
“That’s what Heidi says…” He waited a moment
and then said briskly, “What can I do for you, Lieutenant? I really do have that dinner date.”
“I would like you to listen to what I have to say
- without interrupting me – and see what you make of it.”
“Scarlet, if this is about the volcanic pacifier…”
Blue snapped.
“No, it isn’t - well not directly,” Scarlet
interrupted. “Please Adam; I need your advice…” He cursed himself
for using the man’s Christian name, but Blue seemed unperturbed. He gave a brisk nod and sat himself down in a comfortably
upholstered armchair but his body language revealed a tension not apparent in
his words.
“You have my undivided attention, Metcalfe, at least until I have to change for
dinner.”
“Thank you… well it’s like this….”
Chapter Three
By the time Scarlet had finished speaking Blue was
leaning forward in his chair with an expression of disbelief on his handsome
face. “Have you seen Fawn since you got back from Etna?” he asked making no
attempt to hide his scepticism.
“Yes I have, so don’t go making out you think I’m
going crazy - although much more of this and I think I will be! “ Scarlet
bristled. Then to his surprise, Blue fired off a series of detailed questions
which proved that not only had he been listening, but he had cut to the very nub
of the
problem. Scarlet did his best to answer honestly, knowing better than to bluff
Captain Blue. It was reassuring to
find that this man’s mind was as sharp as that of the man he knew as Adam
Svenson.
Finally the American leant back and dragged a hand through his hair with a
gesture so familiar to Scarlet that he had to smile.
“You
have to admit it’s hard to believe,” he said. “A parallel existence - another
you and another me and,” he spread his hands, “all of this…” Blue sprang up from
his chair and began to pace around his quarters.
Feeling drained, Scarlet sat back in the other
armchair and let tiredness wash over him. I shouldn’t be feeling like this so long after the accident, he
thought.
I might have to speak to Doctor Fawn, however risky that seems. But, now he had explained his
predicament and his fears and shared the problem, he felt a little better and
the fact that it was Adam who had listened was, somehow, comforting - even
though he knew this could not be the right
Adam.
He was
not unduly worried by his companion’s silence.
He was used to his friend’s propensity to withdraw into himself when he was
wrestling with a knotty problem, and, as he waited for the response, he amused
himself by glancing around the room - playing a version of spot the difference…
Real Adam’s room was decorated in a style
that Scarlet classified as ‘unpretentious luxury’. Whilst he had retained Cloudbase’s
standard issue furniture he had, by the addition of a few select objects,
managed to turn his quarters into a personal sanctuary from the sometimes harsh
realities of life within Spectrum.
But whereas the real room only had few touches of expensive chic, this room was
opulent. There were heavy Persian
rugs on the floor and a variety of pictures around the walls. Yet there were
still enough similarities for Scarlet to feel at home - for instance - the sound
system was the same, an expensive example of the engineers’ art with maximum
technology tastefully housed in minimalist design. There were scores of books on the crowded bookcase and a
sophisticated personal computer on the desk, as well as the Spectrum issue
machine. One object conspicuous by
its absence in either room was a TV.
If Adam watched any broadcasts he did it in the Officers’ Lounge with everyone
else. This fact annoyed Symphony
immensely, as she openly admitted that she enjoyed watching TV in bed at the end
of her shift. Scarlet smiled to himself, he remembered the look of mortified
forbearance on Adam’s face as she had continued to complain that she frequently
missed her favourite programmes, just because he refused to install a set.
Cheered by this memory of his friends, Scarlet
turned his attention to his companion. He was much as expected, although - Scarlet frowned at
the pacing man and concentrated - this Adam was ‘sharper’ somehow. As he stared, concentrating only on
identifying the differences, he realised, with a slight sense of shock, that the
hair style was different. It was
the same shade of blond, which Adam always referred to, disparagingly, as straw-coloured, but it was slicked back from his high forehead and
emphatic eyebrows. Scarlet hid a grin.
Unless he was very much mistaken, this man’s eyebrows had been … shaped.
Captain Blue was wearing a plain white shirt; open at the neck and with the
discreet logo of a top designer on the breast pocket.
The sleeves were rolled back to his mid fore-arm and his left arm was encircled
by a gold wristwatch, rather than the usual Spectrum issue one. As he turned once more, the light caught three plain gold
rings on his long fingers. Scarlet
was in little doubt that his fingernails would be well-manicured, in that, at
least, the tastes of the two coincided.
His denim jeans were the latest ‘must-have’ brand and were fastened by a
crocodile leather belt - that was, almost certainly, real crocodile. His trainers were the latest word in
casual footwear that probably cost more than it was decent to contemplate.
Even accepting he is off-duty, that is pretty dressy, Scarlet mused. He came to the conclusion that, whereas Real Adam took care never to flaunt his wealth, this Adam didn’t
even attempt to hide the fact. He
wondered if there were any other changes in his friend and examined the man’s
face once more as he walked past.
This time Blue noticed his stare and asked, “Is
something wrong?”
“No, of course not.
I just realised - the scar - it’s not there.”
“What scar?”
“Real Adam, I mean the one I know… I knew…?” Blue
waved the confusion away. “He has a scar along his forehead and he wears his
hair forward to cover it. You don’t have the scar… did you have
plastic surgery on it?”
“I have never had a scar!” Blue replied
scathingly, adding, with a note of suspicion in his voice, “Did he say how he
got it?”
“Hmmm, he fell down a disused well.”
“He
fell down a well?” Blue stopped pacing and stared long and hard at Scarlet
before saying with obvious anger, “That is not funny, Metcalfe - you are going
too far! “
“He told me himself when I asked him how he came
by it. He never went into details, but then he doesn’t discuss
personal matters with any willingness.” Scarlet defended himself with some
asperity. Why should Blue get so shirty over that
long past incident?
“Then you have it wrong - this ‘real Adam’ has
tripped up! It was my brother – Peter – who fell into a disused well, not me!
He went missing while we were on holiday in the countryside and that is
where they eventually found his body - at the bottom of a well. I was nine years old and he was five.”
Blue’s eyes narrowed.
“See – it’s happening again!” Scarlet cried.
“Things are all skewed! You say it was your brother and not you-
but I know it was you! You
survived the ordeal and Peter’s now grown up and married with a daughter and
another baby expected any day now…”
“Peter survived?” Adam sat on the armchair as if
his legs wouldn’t support him any longer. “He was just a little kid.” The
light-blue eyes dropped to his hands and he whispered almost to himself, “I
still kinda miss not having him around.”
“Adam doesn’t get on with him at all…” Scarlet
confided with a rueful smile. “They argue like cat and dog.”
“No, not Pete and me… we never argued.”
“He gets on much better with his sister.”
“I don’t have a sister.”
“Kate,” Scarlet insisted.
The colour had drained from Blue’s face. “Oh my,”
he breathed. “Around the time Peter died, my mother lost a baby - a little girl. They called her Kate.
It was as if everything went wrong after Pete died.”
“And David?”
“Who?”
“Your kid brother - Davy…”
“Metcalfe, if you’re yanking my chain, you will
pay dearly for it!”
Seeing the anger in Blue’s eyes, Scarlet didn’t
doubt he meant his threat and he hastened to defend himself. “No, this is the you I know.”
Blue stood and began pacing again, glancing at his
visitor every so often. Suddenly he asked, “You claim to have
met these people? You know them? “
Scarlet hesitated; he did not want to lie to this
man.
“Adam has spoken of them and I have met his mother several times and his
sister and youngest brother once, in Boston.
I haven’t met Peter or his father, but all of the family that I have met
have spoken of him. I swear to you
- on all I hold dear, I am not lying
to you, Captain.”
“You have met my mother? Do you expect me to believe that? My mother died when I was twelve years old – as is well known!” Blue spoke
with a suppressed rage and turned away from the surprise and pity in the
Englishman’s perceptive blue eyes.
“I did
not know, I swear it. She is very much alive – where I come
from - and it is not long ago that she visited my parents, at their home.”
Scarlet felt a surge of sympathy for the stricken man standing before him, for
he knew how close Adam was to his mother - and besides - he liked Sarah Svenson.
“And you? What about your family - are they the
same ‘here’? What about your sister and her kids?”
Blue had no intention of speaking further on the subject of his family; in fact
he regretted showing even so much weakness.
“I don’t have a sister…” Scarlet was conscious of
echoing Blue’s declaration of a few minutes ago. He frowned.
“So who did I meet at the commissioning ceremony?
She said she was your sister.”
“Well, I can’t tell you her name - as far as I
know, I have never had and do not have a sister. I am an only child. It is
something I have always envied Adam for – his brothers and sister.”
In his mind’s eye he saw the photograph from the other Scarlet’s wallet. Perhaps the unknown woman in that had
been his sister?
Blue
drew a deep breath and continued his pacing for several minutes.
Scarlet sank back into the supportive cushions of the armchair and tried
not to show his anxiety that Blue might yet reject his story.
Finally the captain stopped his pacing and said,
“All right - I’ll believe you - I must be mental, but I’ll believe you!
Somehow it would seem you have been ‘transported’ here from another
dimension - a parallel universe - call it what you like. It must have something to do with the
caves at Etna - that’s where you first started to notice things were different. What do you propose to do?”
“I hoped you might have an idea about that. But
ultimately I want to get myself and Garnet back to the reality we belong in.”
“It is likely that the two of you will die, if you
manage to get back there. You have no guarantee that you will be rescued.
Given the time since you ‘slipped through’, your friends may have stopped
looking.”
Scarlet shook his head. “Adam wouldn’t stop until
he found a body.” With a sudden attack of goosebumps he remembered the bodies
Garnet had discovered. Would Adam see them and, if so, would he
realise they were not him and Garnet?
He knew that in his world Blue would be looking for a man in a wet suit,
but would it be enough to alert him that all was not as it should be? He had to hope so. He continued aloud, as much to reassure himself as to answer
Blue. “He doesn’t give up easily. But I suspect you know that! Besides, neither Garnet or I belong here
- in fact I think we may both already be ‘dead’ in this reality.”
Scarlet told the rest of the story about the bodies.
“Murder?” Blue seemed genuinely shocked at the
information.
Scarlet shrugged. “There were two dead bodies in
that cave before I arrived. All I can tell you is, as we left the
cave the bodies vanished. I don’t
know why that happened and I don’t pretend to understand what is happening to me
now. I know I would like a chance
to investigate it further and try to get back to where I belong. All things being equal, I would like the
man I do this investigating with to be you – as it would have been. I accept that you may feel I have no
right to ask for your help, and no right to call on a friendship which you may
not wish to acknowledge. In which
case, I would ask only that you respect my confidences and refrain from telling
my story to anyone else on the base - for now.”
Blue gave the slightest of smiles. “God, I just
don’t understand you Brits – you have such stiff upper lips I wonder you manage
to eat at times! “ He looked steadily at the younger man
and said, “And yet, you came here, to me,
using the emotional rationale that the man you would have turned to - wherever you come from - was me.” The
thought seemed to amuse him and he smiled, turning away from the Englishman’s
scrutiny. He gave a rueful laugh
and continued, with increasing bitterness in his voice.
. “I
know people say I am just playing at this job - that I have no real
commitment to Spectrum or the fight we are in - but they really know nothing of
the choices made by a private individual. I have always been honest about my
choice, Scarlet, I do not have
to work - I chose to become a test pilot and Spectrum chose to ask me to join them. I do my job the only way I know how –
and I am not prepared to be bound by the petty-fogging regulations of a military
bureaucracy. If Spectrum really
objects, it can dismiss me… who knows - I might even go!” There was a snort of laugher and the
expressive eyes flashed towards his frowning guest, as if inviting him to share
in the amusement.
Scarlet made no comment and as swiftly as it had appeared the amusement died in
Blue’s face. He continued, “If you have found
some way through to alternative dimensions - fluke or not - this needs to be
investigated.” He could see the relief on Scarlet’s face and his smile returned.
“Is there anything else you ought to tell me…Paul?”
Scarlet would have gladly told him everything
then, such was his relief at finding an ally in the strange world he found
himself inhabiting. Yet something - a small something -
warned him that this man was still unknown and - however comforting the illusion
of his being Adam Svenson was - he was not the man Paul Metcalfe knew and
trusted, for he had been shaped by a different past.
His words had the sound of an apologia and did not strike Scarlet as
reflecting Real Adam’s thoughts and beliefs.
He
drew a deep breath and, making a snap decision, shook his head.
Captain Blue demurred, sensing, perhaps, that the
other man was withholding information. Then he gave a slight smile and nodded
his head in acceptance. “Have you spoken of this to anyone else, Scarlet?”
“No, although, of course, Lieutenant Garnet knows
as much as I do about the situation but I’m sure she is not in any state to be
holding forth to anyone on how we got here.”
“Garnet? She’s in sickbay I understand?
Hardly
in much of a position to help you with your quest to find the way home…” Blue
didn’t hide his amusement this time. “Why, do you think, do I have an
overwhelming urge to say, ‘I don’t think we’re in Kansas, Toto’?”
Scarlet’s grin was quite as broad. “I know what
you mean and now I am back in full uniform I even have the ‘ruby
slippers’.” He clicked his heels together and both men laughed in a moment
of perfect camaraderie.
The rapprochement was interrupted by a ring of the
door bell. Blue glanced at his watch and cursed,
“Look at the time … damn it!” He
hastened to open the door.
“Hi Sky,” Scarlet recognised Symphony’s voice.
“I hope I’m not interrupting?” She walked in anyway, swinging a hairdryer
in one hand. She looked searchingly
at Scarlet and then acknowledged him with a curt nod. “Would you take a look at my hairdryer?
I can’t get it to work and I want to wash my hair before I go on back on duty.”
She held it out towards the affronted Blue.
He
goggled at her, astounded by her request. “What?
You want me to… whatever for?”
“If I
take it to maintenance they’ll take weeks to do it. And you are so good with
your hands,” she added waspishly.
“Well, yes, I guess I could fix it,” he agreed,
choosing to ignore her barbed comment. “But I can’t do it now!
I’m supposed to be taking Rhapsody to dinner and I’m late as it is.” He glanced
at his other guest and suggested, “Maybe Scarlet could do it for you? Excuse me…”
He grabbed a clothes hanger of clothes from the wardrobe and stalked into
the bathroom closing the door firmly behind him.
With a shrug, Symphony handed Scarlet the machine.
“Can you fix it?”
“I can try.” He sat at the desk and asked,
“Screwdrivers?” She shrugged.
She’s doesn’t seem to know her way around this
apartment as well as the Karen at home does,
he
thought, and after a moment’s hesitation, dived into the bottom drawer.
Sure enough, there was the set of expensive screwdrivers and the neat
array of useful bits and pieces, just as he had expected there would be. It seemed as if this Adam was a much of
an inveterate ‘dismantler’ of machines as his counterpart back home It
explains why Symphony has come, given
that Blue seems to be ‘involved’ with
Rhapsody… He grimaced again at the very thought and began to examine the
hairdryer whilst Symphony perched on the arm of a chair.
He glanced across at her.
If Adam had appeared sharper, Symphony seemed…
almost blowsy. She still had the long hair she’d had when she joined
Spectrum, and which she had subsequently cut shorter.
It was back-combed into a style that he did not think suited her pretty
face. She wore a vacant expression
and was mechanically chewing gum.
The Angel uniform, which had always fitted her like a second skin, now seemed
too tight and therefore less attractive, somehow.
She bit at a finger nail and hummed to herself. This woman was not much
like the Karen he knew, who always took such care over her appearance. Scarlet
ducked his head back to the dryer as she sensed his scrutiny and turned towards
him. He started to dismantle the
plug.
When the doorbell rang Symphony ambled across to
open it.
“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice hissed
brusquely. Scarlet’s heart thumped uncomfortably as he tried to see past
Symphony to the newcomer in the doorway.
“Getting my hairdryer fixed,” Symphony replied
slowly, unperturbed by the obvious annoyance in Rhapsody’s voice.
“Well, I am here to collect Adam, so your
hairdryer will have to wait! He’s taking me to dinner and he’s late.
I do not appreciate having to wait about for my escorts,” she said
fretfully as she swept into the room past her vaguely smiling colleague.
Rhapsody’s hair was piled high, the shining
copper-coloured hanks interwoven with green ribbon and a diamond-studded comb.
She wore a long, shimmering, pale turquoise-green evening dress, with a low
neckline and narrow straps, which clung to her slender figure and swirled around
her feet in an ocean of movement.
It did things to Scarlet’s tormented libido that he didn’t even like to
think about.
If I ever get back to the real
World I am going to buy my Dianne a dress just like that one… he promised himself.
Ignoring her complaint, Symphony moved across and
adjusted the ribbon in her colleague’s hair, twisting a frond around her finger
to make it curl, “That’s better, hon,” she said.
Rhapsody brushed her hand away and noticed Scarlet
for the first time. He became aware that he was staring, open-mouthed, at her
and gave a wry grin. She ignored him and began to complain
again. “I swear this place gets more like Clapham Junction Station everyday. Why
Adam allows it baffles me.”
Muffled by the closed bathroom door, Scarlet could
hear the sound of someone singing in a light tenor.
His eyes widened and he tilted his head to hear better -
was that Adam?
“He
sure sounds in a good mood, anyhow,” Symphony commented blandly, returning to
her perch on the armchair.
“The way your smile just beams…
The way you sing off key,
The way you haunt my dreams…
No, no, they can’t take that away from me…”
The door opened and Captain Blue
came out, changed into a smart evening suit and still singing as he fastened a
cuff link. He saw Rhapsody and stopped mid-chorus. “Hi.” His voice took on a
suave tone Scarlet had only rarely heard him use and then only sarcastically.
“Hi,” she replied, simpering up at him.
“You are so late I came to fetch you - and I find all these people here just ruining our plans.” She slipped her arm
through his and steered him towards the door. “Now, where shall we go tonight?”
Symphony watched them depart with a rueful smile.
Scarlet, putting the last screw back into the plug, watched her closely.
She seemed resigned to their departure. He reached across and plugged the
machine in - it whirred into life. “Here you go, Symphony Angel. There was a
wire loose in the plug…”
“I know, I loosened it myself, I thought it would
give me enough excuse to drop by, but thanks anyway, Paul.
They sure make a fine couple, don’t they?” She was still gazing at the open door
full of abstraction as she stared after the departed couple.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said waspishly, “They can’t
have much in common.”
She turned to him, her hazel eyes sparkling with
laughter. “Oh sure they do… money!
He’s got it and she wants it.
It’s the greatest common denominator in the book!”
“What
do you mean?” he glared at her with
sudden dislike.
“Only that Dianne is desperate to save her family
estate from bankruptcy and Adam - well, he has so much money he doesn’t know
what to do with it. She’s willing to make it worth his while
to spend some of it on the things she wants,” Symphony winked suggestively.
“There’s a name for women like that,” Scarlet
said, profoundly shocked.
“Yeah, and the word you’re looking for is
desperate
– just as I said.” She saw his disapproval and added with a startling
vehemence, “You have no right to judge her so harshly, Lieutenant, you don’t
understand half of what goes on around here, so take that look off your face!
That’s the worst thing about you, your damned smugness.
I don’t suppose you’d accept that, because she’s being leant on by her
people to save the day with a rich husband, she has as much right as anyone to
try to attract the one man around here who
could
solve her family’s financial problems at a stroke? I also happen to think she could do a whole heap worse for
herself - Adam Svenson’s a nicer guy than most people give him credit for. And
he takes good care of his possessions.
She would never know whose bed he was in at any given time, but if she
could stand that, he wouldn’t make her too miserable and she’d get all the money
she wants.”
“I always thought you liked him - don’t you?” he
asked, surprised at her cynicism.
Symphony blushed slightly. “Yeah, I guess I do at
that,” she admitted. “I think we’ve made a good team when
we’ve worked together.” Her attention
drifted momentarily and then snapped back.
In a sterner tone she added,
“Not that it is any of your business, Lieutenant, and it doesn’t mean I am
another of the notches on his bedpost!”
“No ma’am,” he agreed. “I just
wondered. You seem at home here, somehow.”
But not as much as home as I expected you to be….he
added to himself.
Symphony drew herself up. “Yeah, well… what
happened between me and Old Sky-Blue-Eyes was… nice - while it lasted.
But you don’t expect a guy like that to commit to one woman; he’s not capable of
it, if you ask me… Mind you,” she mused as if she had forgotten he was
listening, “I reckon he’s under some pressure from home as well, right now.”
“In what way?” he asked, managing to suppress his
instinct to explain that his Blue was very much a
one-woman-man, and just who that
one-woman was.
“Oh… it’s just me reading between the lines, but I
reckon he’s being told that he’s sown enough wild oats, and that buying into
Dianne’s family would give his people the respectability all their money can’t
buy!”
“Respectability? I thought they had bucket-loads of the
stuff?”
She gave him a pitying glance. “After that last
banking scandal, John Svenson was lucky to walk away a free man. Sky was busy
distancing himself from the whole confused mess for weeks before the
investigation ended!”
“I didn’t think he had anything to do with the
family business. Surely the regulations…”
Symphony gave a hearty laugh. “You Brits crease me
up!
Bleating on about the regulations - when did that make any difference?
You’re not going to stop the likes of Adam and Pat from making money any way
they know how…”
Scarlet was surprised again at the linking of Blue with Captain Magenta –
especially in the field of making money.
The Magenta he knew had been a participant in organised, white-collar crime,
before he joined Spectrum and he knew Patrick Donaghue had ‘acquired’ a sizeable
personal fortune during this time.
What had happened to that fortune was something he did not know.
Donaghue had been given a ‘pardon’ for his time as a criminal, but whether it
had been dependent on his handing over the proceeds of his crimes was a moot
point. Either way, he couldn’t see the men he
knew joining forces to make money – legitimately or otherwise.
She stood and gave a wry smile. “Thanks for fixing
the plug, Scarlet. I’d better get back on duty and you’d
better leave too…”
“Right, I can’t stay here whilst he’s out, can I?”
he said by way of a reminder to himself.
He and the Adam he knew, thought nothing of nipping in and out of each other’s
apartments - but this wasn’t the same Adam… indeed, from what he had just heard,
it was a very different Captain Blue altogether, in very many ways.
“Not really,” she agreed.
“By the way, Lieutenant, the colonel wants to see you – whenever you can spare
him the time, of course…”
Chapter Four
Captain Blue watched the
elegant silver, yellow and blue submarine glide gracefully into the Naples
dockyard. Captain Grey had often rhapsodised over the ‘sublime beauty’ of the
Stingray submarines, and now, this close up to one for the first time, he
understood what Brad had meant. It was a superb piece of engineering.
He smiled.
The crew had made good time and, with luck, they would be able to get their
mission underway that afternoon. He
strode across to the mooring point and waited for the sub to dock. To his
surprise, a hover-bike came out of the conning-tower hatchway and skittered
across to land a few yards from him. Blue’s frown lifted as he recognised the
aquanaut. The driver alighted and stepped
forwards, a grin on his handsome, good-natured face.
“Hello, Captain Blue, how nice
to see you again,” he said, his hand extended towards the Spectrum officer. “I
haven’t seen you since we both attended the World President’s medal ceremony at
Futura. What a week that was, eh? I don’t think
I’ve ever drank so many martinis or eaten so many canapés before or since!”
Blue smiled in return and
shook the hand warmly. “Hello, Troy! I wasn’t expecting it to be you in command. Aren’t you usually patrolling the Pacific coasts?”
Captain Troy Tempest nodded
and gave a shrug. “We are on a routine exercise over here – once every so often
they like to keep us on our toes by getting us to dodge the shipping in the
northern Atlantic and the Med.” He
grinned. “And when Commander Shore said it was you in charge of the mission…
well, I had to come, didn’t I?
I seem to remember that I promised you a ride in Stingray…several dozen times.”
Blue gave an affirming nod and looked beyond his companion to where the
submarine now rode at anchor. Tempest followed his gaze and gave a proud wave of
his hand towards his vessel. “So here we are - at your service! What are you
doing messing about with boats anyway?
I thought you Spectrum guys were strictly sky-jockeys?”
Blue’s smile faded. “You
were briefed on the mission?”
“Sure, we’re to look for a box
of tricks lost in the straits of Messina.
What it’s all about they didn’t make too clear, nor why we should expect such an
important guy as you to be leading the search.”
Blue shrugged. “I’m no more
important than any other colour captain, Troy.
I just happen to be one of the two people who saw what the … box of tricks
looked like and the other… well, he was lost overboard during our initial
search.”
“That’s harsh,” Troy said, his
expressive face showing genuine sympathy.
“Was he a friend of yours, Adam?”
“He’s my partner and yes, he’s
my friend,” Blue nodded. “I want to
find him, if I can, while we are looking for the machine.”
“It’s a big area to search for
one body.”
“I am betting he is still
alive. We saw underwater caves all along the shoreline whilst we were searching
beneath the volcano, and I’m hoping he may have found an air pocket in one of
those – that whole part of the coast is honeycombed with rocks and tunnels.
Besides, his body hasn’t turned up anywhere else,” Blue replied. It was going to be hard explaining much
more to Tempest, if he asked.
“Well, I hope you’re right,”
Troy said, rather dubiously. He could see that the taller man was pinning a
great deal on this hope and he added,
“You know, I have been in underwater caves where there have been pockets of air. It’s not impossible, so your pal might
have got lucky.”
“Yes,
I guess you could call him a lucky guy...”
“Right,
well, if you’re hoping to find him alive we had better get started as soon as
possible. Come aboard and meet the crew.
Lieutenant Sheridan – Phones - is my communications man and he’ll do most
of the sonar searching for your machine and Lieutenant Shore – Atlanta, she’s
here as one of Stingray’s crew – it’s part of all WASP training – service at
sea.”
“Atlanta Shore, the daughter
of Marineville’s Commander?” Blue asked.
He had heard about the personnel in Marineville’s control tower from Lieutenant
Green and Captain Grey, both of whom had served in the WASPs before joining
Spectrum. Grey had made the effort to speak to him
before he left Cloudbase, bemoaning the fact that he was too well-known in the
service to risk going on the mission.
Blue rather suspected their recent boat trips and diving experiences had
awakened a longing for the sea Grey thought he had under control.
“You’ve met her?
Atlanta is a great girl,” Troy said stoutly almost daring to Blue to make
something of it.
“No, I haven’t met her, but I
know someone who… has connections with Marineville.
They have spoken of her – she sounds, as you say - a great girl,” Blue explained
reassuringly. Green had been very forthcoming on the relationship between his
commander’s daughter and the most celebrated Aquanaut in the service.
By now Phones had extended the
walkway to the entry hatch and Blue could walk across to the submarine vessel.
He was half way across when an SSC arrived at the dockside and he stopped to
watch Ruffolo get out. The Italian waved to him
enthusiastically and kissed his fingers towards the passenger seat of the car,
from which Blue could just see Symphony emerging.
He grinned and continued his way carefully across the wobbly walkway.
Troy had brought his
hover-bike back inside and was there to make the introduction.
Blue shook hands with Lieutenant Sheridan and received instructions to call him
‘Phones’. “Chances are I wouldn’t know who you meant otherwise, Cap’n,” the man
drawled genially.
Blue had never spent much time
below the Mason-Dixon Line, but there was no mistaking Sheridan’s accent for
anything but a Dixie drawl. He acknowledged the instruction with a polite smile.
The discipline amongst the WASP personnel seemed far more easy-going than that
expected by Spectrum – he wondered how Green tolerated it – but then, the
colonel always seemed more lenient with the young West Indian than with his
other ex-military personnel, just as he frequently made allowances for his
non-military officers.
Lieutenant Atlanta Shore was a
petite brunette with a round face, wide mouth and sparkling eyes.
She gave Blue an appraising stare, her eyes travelling up the whole length of him until she met
his amused glance; Blue was several
inches taller than Tempest, who was in turn taller than Phones. Atlanta blushed prettily and said,
“You’ll have to be careful Captain Blue, or I’m afraid you’ll keep banging your
head on the ceiling.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,
Lieutenant.”
They turned towards the
hatchway at the sound of another voice, “Give a girl a hand here, Blue.
I’m not sure how I’m going to get down there with all this stuff to
carry.” Blue grimaced and spun on his heel to assist Symphony. She handed him two kit bags – both hers,
he noted ruefully – and then waited to be lifted down. She put her hands on his shoulders and slid off the hatchway
so that she came to rest close to him, her hands around his neck. She smiled up
at him as he frowned warningly at her. Then she turned to the watching WASP
officers with a bright smile, extending her slim hand to Troy saying, “Captain
Tempest, what a pleasure to meet you.
I have read so much about your exploits.”
Troy, slightly dazzled by her
smile, took her hand and shook it. “Thank you, erm…”
“Symphony Angel.
Didn’t Captain Blue tell you I was coming?” she gave him a glance from beneath
her lashes and added, “He never remembers the important things.”
Blue grimaced. He realised
that she still hadn’t forgiven him for not taking her on the shopping trip to
New York and that this was how she had chosen to make him pay for it. Well, so
be it, as long as she didn’t allow her retribution to get in the way of her
work.
However, he thought with a mischievous glee, Karen hasn’t whiled away the
hours of the dogwatch in the control
room, listening to Green’s stories of life at Marineville, and she is so intent
on making an impression that, for once, she’s neglected to weigh up her entire
audience.
Blue
had seen the possessive jealousy fire-up in Atlanta’s eyes as Symphony flirted
with Captain Tempest and he knew that, for once, Symphony wasn’t going to get it
all her own way.
~oo0oo~
Before he obeyed the colonel’s instructions and
made his report, Scarlet returned to sickbay and asked to see Garnet. He needed
to clear some points before he submitted himself to Colonel White’s incisive
questioning, and anyway, he was still unsure about what he was supposed to have
been doing at Etna. It was possible that Garnet might have
learned more about their situation and he felt an obscure need to confirm that
he wasn’t imagining all this in the first place. Fawn glanced up from his pile of papers and nodded
absently. “If she’s awake you can, but not for long.
And any upsetting her and you will find yourself on another charge,
Lieutenant.”
“Understood, Doctor.”
He was now so wary of what to expect from these people, that almost nothing
could surprise him any longer.
As he wandered to the room Fawn indicated, he reminded himself to get a look at
his service record. That might explain why everyone
expected him to be in trouble all the time.
He
pushed the door open and peered in. Garnet was lying back on a bank of pillows still looking pale
and tired, but better than she had done.
She turned her eyes towards the door and gave a genuine smile when she
saw him.
“Paul, how nice to see you - come on in.” She
patted the bed beside her, offering him a seat.
Not wanting their conversation to be overheard, he
sat close to her and took her outstretched hand in his, patting it gently.
“Hello, Claudia. How are you feeling?”
“Much, much better, thanks to you.
You saved my life down there, Paul.
I’ll never forget it.”
“We saved each other… if you hadn’t been
there, I might still be lying in a tangled heap of air tanks and broken bones.”
He smiled at her. “I don’t want to
rush you, Claudia, but I need to know - if you realise what’s happened to us?”
She blushed unhappily.
“Is there an ‘us’ for things to happen to?”
He gave her an uncertain look and continued, “I’ve
been looking around Cloudbase and speaking to some people… things are not as
they should be, Claudia…”
“I know… but perhaps if you can talk to the
colonel again, he’ll see the validity of the concerns you have about the
volcanic pacifier…”
“Claudia?”
“Yes, Paul?”
“I am
talking about what happened in the cave… how you came to be trapped there and
how I got swept in by the whirlpool. You do remember, don’t you? Please try to
remember, it is important!”
A look of relief came over her face and she gave a
shaky smile. “Thank God you remember it to! Everyone’s been talking about how we’d
been trying to stop a project to prevent Etna erupting,” she lowered her dark
eyes. “And Captain Ochre seems to think he and I have been ... intimate
friends. Yet, the nurses have been speaking of you and me… as a couple… and
I thought I was losing my mind!”
“Did you know Captain Ochre - before you met
him in the cave?”
“I don’t think so…” Garnet’s frown deepened. She
shook her head, “I must’ve got concussed; my memory’s all over the place, but I
am sure I would remember something like that. At one point I thought… you and I…
well, I thought… but we haven’t been and we aren’t now – are we?”
“I thought the same for awhile,” he smiled at her.
“I can assure you – nothing happened between us.
I think I know what might be happening.
It’s a long story, listen carefully and if anyone comes in, I’ll change the
subject…”
For the second time that day, Scarlet recited his
theories concerning what had happened.
Garnet listened intently, frowning with concentration.
Several times she shook her dark head and almost began to argue with him, only
to stop and bite her lip, waving a distracted hand for him to continue.
“So, you see, Claudia, we have to get out of this
place and try to find our way back to the cave in Etna and continue our search
for a way home,” he concluded.
There was a long silence, and as he watched her
eyes filled with tears, one of which stole down her pale cheek. “You mean… leave
here and go back to where we are most definitely going to die?” she whispered.
“We won’t die, Claudia.
Our
own Captain Blue won’t give up on finding me - we’ll be rescued by our own
people.” He tried to reassure her seeing that she was genuinely frightened of
the suggestion.
“He might find you, Paul, but me…? I wouldn’t have
survived there for much longer.
These are our own people too. Our
friends and colleagues, they don’t want to harm us.
Is it so wrong for us to stay here?” Her
voice was trembling and the tears really started to flow. Scarlet cursed his own insensitivity. Claudia had been through a lot lately,
and the fact that she had held her nerve as well as she had, spoke volumes for
her strength of mind and character.
However, he could see that he wasn’t exactly helping.
There
was no point pressing for her agreement and if Fawn heard her crying he might
ban further visits. He reached and took her hand. “Rest
now,” he said, softly. “Don’t worry about it - leave all the arrangements to me. I will find a way to solve the problem.”
He sat quietly as her sobs turned to sniffs and
she dabbed at her red eyes with tissues.
She was trying to regain her composure, he could see that, and he smiled in
encouragement at her.
Suddenly she asked in a small and still uncertain
voice, “How will we get home, Captain?”
“If there’s a way, it lies at Etna and this
Blue will help us find it.”
She turned to look at him with some alarm, “Do you
trust him?”
“I have trusted him with my life more times than I
can count…” he tried to reassure her.
“No,” she surprised Scarlet by saying
thoughtfully. “If what you believe has happened is true, then this is a
different Captain Blue and not a man you can trust.
The nurses gossip all the time and he is one of their favourite topics.
They tell me that no woman is safe from him; he seems to be working his
way through the female staff list. At least, they hope so - most of them are
still waiting their turn!” She gave a speculative grin, her dark eyebrows
arching over her brown eyes. “They
also say that he and Captain Magenta run the base as if it is their personal
fiefdom…”
“Do they indeed?” Scarlet frowned. Here was
unwelcome confirmation of his worst fears about the differing circumstances he
was discovering about the base. “Perhaps it is time I paid a visit to
Colonel White. Get plenty of rest, Lieutenant, and don’t worry – everything will
all come right in its own good time.”
“Yes, I am sure it will,” she smiled again and
squeezed his hand.
Ruefully, he kissed her cheek and left.
He knew she would do her best, but it did not look as if he would be able to
rely on much useful support there for sometime yet.
~oo0oo~
Scarlet strode purposefully to the Control Room.
There were things he needed to know and would only find out there.
Passing a technician he knew well by sight, he gave the man a cheerful
nod of acknowledgement only to receive a dismissive stare in return. It dawned
on him that he was starting to dislike this new life. Okay, since his Mysteronisation he had deliberately withdrawn
from associating with the majority of the personnel on Cloudbase and had
consequently ceased to be a contender in any Mr. Popularity contest, but
everyone was invariably polite if - he grimaced – often somewhat over-awed by
his presence. But, here there
was a definite feeling of animosity towards him and he had no idea why. His diary had not spoken of events
before the first Mysteron attack and since then, he could see nothing to account
for his obvious unpopularity. Maybe – he blushed at the thought –
maybe this
Scarlet was just an unpleasant character?
The automatic door before him snapped open,
revealing the nerve centre of Cloudbase – the Control Room.
In contrast to so much of the base, where the necessarily small windows only let
in a glimmer of the sunlight outside, and many interior rooms never saw the sun
at all, but only light refracted by a relay of mirrors to give the impression of
daylight - this room was naturally light and airy.
Beyond the colonel’s circular desk, one of the observation tubes
stretched out into the infinite blueness of the clear sky. Stepping into them was as close to
walking in the air as any human was ever likely to get. The transparent banks of computers winked their subtle red
and green lights as they performed the incessant adjustments needed to keep this
floating miracle safe and inhabitable. It was always an impressive sight,
however familiar you were with it, and Scarlet’s heart lifted, as it always did,
when he entered the room. This was
one of his favourite places on the base. It was, he liked to think, the very
heart of Spectrum.
At the
end of the automatic walkway was the colonel’s desk and sitting at it the
familiar figure of Colonel White, as upright and authoritative as ever.
Scarlet sighed with relief - that was a tonic to his battered mind right
now. Moving towards the desk, he glanced towards the long computer control desk,
as was his habit, and nearly fell off the end of the walkway in surprise.
Sitting in the communications chair was a dark-skinned figure, clad as he
expected in the familiar rich green, but as the face turned to acknowledge his
arrival he saw it was a woman!
His attention snapped back to the colonel as his
commander asked, “Lieutenant Scarlet?
How are you feeling?”
His salute was scrappy as his mind tried to
come to terms with this latest shock. “I am fine, sir…” He glanced at Lieutenant
Green again and muttered, “At least I was…”
“I was expecting you to come straight to report to
me when Doctor Fawn released you,” the Colonel said evenly.
“I accept that you might have felt the need to… freshen up… but I would not have expected you to go to speak with
Captain Blue. I wanted to hear your explanation of what happened at Mount Etna,
Lieutenant, if you have one, that is.”
“My
apologies, sir. I needed to try to understand something
that happened down there and I find myself a little…disorientated at present. I
would like to speak to you - about several matters. In private if I may?”
Colonel White gave a curt nod, and pressed two
buttons on his desk. A stool rose from the floor, followed
moments later by the Perspex privacy curtain that descended and snapped around
the desk to create a secure and soundproof environment.
Scarlet perched on the stool and studied his
Commander–in-Chief. He looked and sounded the same as the
real colonel, although on closer inspection, his face showed the strain of his
responsibilities far more than he expected.
There were deep lines between the man’s brows and his blue eyes had a
patina of wariness. Scarlet
knew enough now to know that he must be careful because it seemed that the
differences in these people were not always immediately apparent.
It was the colonel who broke the silence. “What
have you to report, Paul? There is still a good deal of confusion around at
present. Tell me; was our intelligence correct in thinking that Etna
is one of their targets? So
far, we have been successful at stopping the Agency damaging the volcanic
pacifier. Surely your examination of the situation
must’ve proved to you that it is in our interest to keep the machine
functioning? I remain to be
convinced by your vague argument that the machine is dangerous, Paul, and I hope
you did not do anything down there that you will come to regret.”
“The volcanic pacifier was still operating
when we left,” Scarlet said cagily.
“Captain Flaxen made it clear it was our job to protect it. Yet I have a distinct impression that
its use was as likely to cause the eruption, as to subdue it…”
“I
should imagine that is possible, although I doubt the local Agency operatives
have the technical skills to alter the machine.
As neither Blue nor Magenta have left Cloudbase recently, I think we can assume
that that has not happened. I
imagine they are the only two who might have the technical skills to tamper with
the machine. Maybe our source can investigate if that
has been discussed between them.”
He made a note on a single sheet of paper. Glancing up he added, “I had heard
there were rumours that you and Lieutenant Garnet were to be… eliminated. I am pleased to see that it is not the
case.”
Scarlet drew a sharp breath in alarm. This was the first time anyone had made
any reference, however oblique, to the bodies in the cave.
It threw a new light on the situation and might prove dangerous. “May I ask how you heard we were to be eliminated,
sir?”
“Through Lieutenant Cerise, of course - he is proving an invaluable source of
information.”
“Cerise, oh yes, of course.” The Cerise he knew
was a gangly, bronzed, young Australian, taller even than Captain Blue.
One lazy, off-duty afternoon on Cloudbase Scarlet recalled finding the pair of
them talking interminably about surfing.
He had quickly found the subject soporific, and wandered off alone. Blue turned up hours later when their
duty shift started and, even then, he had still been full of the topic.
It was
rare for Captain Blue to be so garrulous and, quite frankly, if all he could
talk about was surfing – Scarlet preferred him taciturn.
He had ruefully considered that, if even such a short exposure to the
conversation of Lieutenant Cerise had this effect on his partner; it would not
be long before he was going to start wishing the youngster had been posted
elsewhere. Scarlet had been relieved when the
Australian was moved into the IT directorate Captain Magenta headed and onto a
shift pattern that meant he was rarely around when he and Blue were off duty.
Presumably Cerise was employed on similar tasks here…
He
decided it was time to try and find out more about this
Agency
people kept referring to in terms of such disapproval. And, if possible, just
what Blue and Magenta were up to together here…
“Is there something wrong, Captain?” White asked,
his body tensing with uncertainty at his officer’s pre-occupation.
Scarlet’s head snapped up. “You called me
Captain!”
“Force of habit, I’m afraid,” White sighed.
“Although I assure you, Paul, when I have rooted out this canker in Spectrum, I
will ensure you are reinstated with all your seniority.”
“So, I was
a captain, and now I’m a lieutenant.
What on earth did I do to get cashiered?” he muttered more to himself than to
his companion.
“Are you all right, Paul?” The colonel’s continued
use of his Christian name was confusing Scarlet even more – Colonel White was
always so formal towards his officers.
“Things are slightly… hazy, sir. I must have lost
some of my memory in the accident.”
White relaxed a little.
“What is it you are ‘hazy’ about exactly?”
“You could start with who, what, when and where,
and there is one big gap on the whole topic of why,” Scarlet admitted with an
apologetic smile.
Colonel White frowned at him. “Do you remember
anything?”
“Not much, sir, to be honest.”
“Did you report this memory loss to Doctor Fawn?”
“No, sir, I wasn’t really aware then that I had
lost my memory… I remember the recent past, very clearly.”
“Well, do you remember how Ochre kidnapped the
World President a couple of years ago and how Captain Blue rescued him, shooting
Ochre in the process?” White said with some irritation.
“Vividly, sir,” Scarlet reassured him.
“And how Blue was awarded the Valour Star by the
grateful President and how since then, he has been - let us say ‘a law unto
himself’?”
“It’s coming back to me as you speak…” Scarlet
said with a sigh.
Yet that hardly makes him ‘a law unto himself’.
Captain Blue had been awarded the
medal for conspicuous bravery by the grateful World President, much against his
wishes, and the fact still caused him a great deal of embarrassment. Colonel White had insisted he go
to Futura for the award ceremony and Blue had spent a week there, enduring
parties and receptions and making the acquaintance of the only other recipient
of the award -so far – Captain Troy Tempest of the World Aquanaut Security
Patrol. On his return to Cloudbase, Blue had only reluctantly displayed the
medal to his admiring friends, feeling, that by accepting the award he was
somehow celebrating the fact that he had shot Captain Scarlet. As soon as he decently could, he had
buried the award at the bottom of his desk and only ever wore it when etiquette
demanded a full dress uniform.
Scarlet glanced up from his musing to see Colonel White watching him with
narrowed eyes, in which the suspicion was growing stronger. He gave an
apologetic shrug and waited for the colonel to begin again.
Colonel White continued his explanation.
“With a grateful World President in his pocket - and his maternal Uncle now the
World Senator with responsibility for defence procurement – Captain Blue was in
an ideal position to… make use of
Spectrum for his own financial ends. On his return to Cloudbase, he joined
Magenta’s Agency. They make a formidable
partnership, one which combines Blue’s influence with Magenta’s criminal
connections and… muscle. I had
hoped at one time that Svenson would hold out against the Agency, but it was
always a slim chance once it became known that his father’s company was
laundering the gang’s money.”
By now
Scarlet’s face must have shown the astonishment he was long past even trying to
hide. It wasn’t beyond the realms of
possibility that the Magenta here
would have lapsed back into his old ways, given that these personalities seemed
so much more …undisciplined… than the
people he knew. Yet his mind could
hardly conceive of an Adam Svenson who not only condoned, but participated in,
organised crime.
Watching the young man carefully, White continued, “Whatever scam they organise
– even when we have proof that they were involved, no-one will move against them
– they are effectively above the law.
I have tried innumerable times to have them both dismissed from Spectrum – at
the very least - but it has all been in vain.
Blue simply calls in favours from his Uncle or if that fails, from the
President. Recently, they have been using the
powers invested in Spectrum to extort money from the individual Governments
around the World…”
“A protection racket! You’re telling me Captain Blue is
running a protection racket?”
“Blue and Magenta in tandem.
Why should that surprise you?” The
colonel’s suspicion was obvious now.
“Your original mission to Etna was to ensure that none of their operatives
gained access to the volcanic pacifier machine during its installation. Surely you remember how Cerise warned us that they had sent a
message to the Italian Government, threatening that unless they met their
financial demand, the machine would be turned off and the volcano left to
erupt?”
Scarlet, trying to assimilate the information, could only give a weak nod of his
head.
White sighed, his frustration over-riding his
suspicions. “If only the courts had accepted our proof that their
money is being laundered though the SvenCorp banking organisation, we might have
been able to, at least, restrict their activities. It was a complete travesty of
justice that John Svenson walked a free man from that trial.”
Scarlet pushed his hand through his dark hair,
dislodging his cap in the process. “Symphony implied the family were… less
than scrupulously honest,” he muttered in agreement with the colonel’s analysis.
“So, you have been speaking to Symphony Angel?”
Colonel White raised an eyebrow interrogatively.
“She came to Blue’s quarters,” he explained.
“I sent her, to find out just what you were doing there,” White
snapped.
Scarlet shook his head in confusion and shrugged at his commanding officer,
“Sir?”
“You
should have come straight to me, Paul.
I don’t know what good you thought you’d achieve by talking to Blue – of all
people.”
Scarlet flushed as the thought of what he had revealed to Captain Blue hit him
like a sledgehammer. “Oh sh….shoot! I may have put my size ten feet right in the muck, sir!”
“You had better explain yourself, Paul,” White was
his usual peremptory self again and his suspicions were growing.
“Well,
I will try, sir, but I don’t think you’re going to find it very easy to
believe.” Once more Scarlet explained his theory concerning the
situation he found himself in, although, as yet, he revealed nothing to the
colonel that he had not already told the apparently sympathetic Captain Blue.
“Lieutenant Scarlet, have you gone completely
mad?”
Colonel White was aghast at what he was hearing and he looked at the
young man with every sign of annoyance – as if he now felt he was the butt of
some preposterous practical joke.
“No,
sir, at least I hope not. Believe me; I would like nothing better than to find
myself waking up in the Officers’ Lounge, with Blue laughing at me for having
dozed off. But everything is odd and
rearranged – and now Lieutenant Green is a woman!” he
wailed.
“What
should she be?” White asked in surprise.
“A man
– Seymour Griffiths – he came to Spectrum from the WASPs.
It should be Seymour at the controls, not some dolly-bird!”
“I’ll tell her that, Serena will appreciate the
irony of it!” The colonel’s voice was edged with a harsh irony.
“She did come from Marineville, as the best computer operative they ever had – I
was damn lucky to get her. Serena
Seymour-Griffiths is an invaluable member of my command, Scarlet.”
“I’m
sure she is, sir… I never meant to suggest otherwise.
But how can you explain the fact that I know with absolute certainty, that
Lieutenant Green is a man? And why do
I expect Blue to be both my partner and my
friend – except - that in my reality Blue and I are partners, as well as
good friends! It never occurred to me for a second that he would be involved in
criminal activities and… treason.” He
looked in helpless confusion at his commander. “How could such men ever be
accepted into Spectrum? This cannot
be the same organisation as I know…”
White
returned his stare with intense scrutiny. “And exactly what sort of organisation
do you know, Scarlet?”
Realising that he was in danger of making the colonel angry and mistrustful,
Scarlet calmed down and forced himself to give a measured run-down of the
situation he had left. He took pains to emphasise the fact that
his mission - given to him by his Colonel White - had been to destroy the
pacifiers, as they were the subject of a Mysteron threat.
At the
end of his explanation, Colonel White drew a deep breath and looked rather
sharply at the intense young man sitting before him.
Scarlet’s face showed nothing but an earnest desire to be believed and to
understand what had happened.
Charles Grey hardly knew what to believe.
He had known Paul Metcalfe from his earliest youth – and it was becoming
increasingly apparent to him that this individual was not that man.
Even his closest friends would have to admit that Metcalfe was an arrogant man. As the only son of a family with a long
tradition of high military command, he’d excelled in his chosen profession as a
WAAF officer, yet had found it more difficult than he’d expected to adapt to the
low-key hierarchy of Spectrum.
Colonel White had never underestimated just how great a risk they had taken in
creating an organisation staffed with people from both military and civilian
backgrounds, and, in his bleakest hours, he had to admit to himself that it had
not been a one-hundred percent success.
Now this - stranger - spoke of
an organisation where the venture had succeeded and against all odds, five men –
at the pinnacle of their varied professions – lived and worked together, bound
by friendly rivalries, implicit
trust and undivided loyalty to their commander.
A veritable paradise,
White mused, but is it a fool’s paradise?
Metcalfe does not look deranged.
I have to make up my mind – do I trust this man and can I believe the unlikely
tale of the events that had led to his being here? He glanced at him once
more.
Scarlet had not spoken for some time now.
His darkly handsome face remained carefully neutral, showing no sign of the
inner turmoil he was experiencing. He knew that if he failed to convince the
colonel – he would be condemned to incarceration, interrogation and, once they
discovered his retrometabolism, possible death.
He doubted that even Captain Blue would be able to help him – always assuming
that the man here had any intention of keeping his promise. The awful realisation hit him that if he
had condemned himself, he had, by implication, also condemned Garnet. He raised his hand to his forehead and
brushed his short fringe back. The
sigh that accompanied the action trembled on the edge of weeping. He squared his shoulders and clamped
down on his inappropriate emotions. This regeneration had left him very weak and
badly shaken.
Ironically, it was that show of such human emotion that swung the colonel’s
decision in his favour as he decided to rely on his instincts and accept this
unlikely visitor from another world, at least, until he was proven to be a
threat. He drew a deep breath, “It was against my better
judgement that both Donaghue and Svenson were accepted into Spectrum. There was less reason to deny Svenson a
commission – he is at least a damn good pilot and not as tarnished by his
father’s business shenanigans as you might expect - I did hope he might prove an
asset to the service. But
Donaghue,” he shook his head in exasperation, “what had he to recommend him? I see now that it was a set-up to give
organised crime a foothold at the very inception of Spectrum. World Senator Thomas Ellis – Svenson’s
uncle – argued that his criminal past should be overlooked as both his computer
talents, and his insight into organised crime, could be useful to an
organisation such as ours. Our
original brief was to counter terrorism and its unlawful off-shoots – that’s the
same, I take it?” Scarlet nodded.
White
continued, “Ellis used the only arguments that could possibly justify Donaghue’s
inclusion and he managed to convince the World President to grant a pardon and
Donaghue was shoe-horned in.
Once here, he set about perverting the whole ethos of Spectrum. It began slowly
enough and many of my senior officers resisted it – including Captain Blue - but
once they had drawn SvenCorp into their orbit, they had their hold over Svenson. It was after the first Mysteron
attack that he joined the Agency –I don’t know if that was willingly or not. I
have to say, objectively, they make a great team – they don’t miss much and
Magenta is absolutely ruthless in dealing with any opposition.”
Captain Scarlet listened open-mouthed to this.
He knew all about Captain Magenta’s shady past – well, as much as anyone knew,
Pat was quite open about it, if asked - but he also knew that Magenta had made a
determined decision to leave that life behind him.
He had, necessarily, retained a certain… hardness; but it was normally buried
under his boundlessly enthusiastic good-temper.
It had not been easy for him to gain the acceptance of his colleagues –
Captain Ochre being his sternest critic – but gradually even the former World
Police Commissioner came to recognize that
Patrick Donaghue had reformed – and now the pair were almost as fixed a
partnership as Blue and himself.
White
stood and moved away from his desk slightly, to stare out of the Control Room
through the clear observation tube into the never-ending sky-scape beyond. “You
asked what you had done to be demoted to Lieutenant, well, I can tell you – nothing. You were
accused of an assault on a young female technician… but there was no proof
beyond her statement. I was
positive she’d been persuaded to make the claim by Magenta, or one of his
henchmen. They were most displeased when you
refused to join their ‘agency’ and they insisted you were tried for the alleged
crime, and they wanted you dismissed from Spectrum.
But, for once, President Younger stood firm with me, I suspect he was
being lobbied by other interests, probably your Father. It was agreed that you should be demoted
to Lieutenant and denied your seniority.
It was all I could do in the face of the whispering campaign they used
against you all over the base.”
“Did
everyone get invited to join the ‘agency’?” Scarlet asked feeling anger welling
up inside him as he listened to this tale of corruption and deceit.
At least it explains my unpopularity, he thought.
“Not
everyone, but all of the senior captains and most of the colour lieutenants on
Cloudbase were invited,” White revealed with a sigh.
“The band of Refuseniks is a small but
select one. You, me, of course,
Symphony and Ochre, a few colour lieutenants, including Green and Garnet and
Cerise - who works as our spy in the Agency and supplies much of our
information.” It was too late to hide Cerise’s importance now, he realised with
a fatalistic sigh.
“The
other Angels?”
White
shook his head. “Melody and Harmony have been convinced it is in their interests
to join and Destiny does what the others do.
Rhapsody is too busy chasing after Blue’s millions to care what is happening
elsewhere,” his voice sounded tired.
“You
say Captain Ochre is one of the Refuseniks? I find that rather hard to believe given that he was so
unpleasant to me when we met at Etna. I take it all of the Refuseniks do know each other? And yet, I would not expect the Ochre I
know to join in with any kind of criminal activity – he was a policeman and he’s
the most honest man I have ever met, if you ignore the odd illicit betting
incident – but then again, he and Magenta are as much good friends as Blue and
I…” Scarlet was too pre-occupied with this conundrum to notice the colonel’s
eyebrows rise in sceptical surprise. “Are you sure he is loyal to Spectrum?” he
concluded in some confusion.
“Oh,
they wanted Ochre – very much indeed - but the main problem is his intense
hatred of Captain Blue.”
“Whatever for? I know Blue saved Ochre from the control
of the Mysterons.”
“Well,
that’s just it. Ochre cannot accept his
‘invulnerability’, he hates his life and he blames Blue for his fate.” White sat
down again and sighed. “Mind you,
he isn’t friendly with Paul either, but that’s a different story.”
He
glanced at the bemused young man opposite. He was still having trouble coming to
terms with what he had been told, but he could see no reason why his officer
should want to spin a web of such palpable lies. Whatever the truth of the
situation, Scarlet obviously believed his story to be genuine and he would play
along for now, whilst making sure his agents kept a close watch on the young
man.
“It
might be best that you know the whole situation, so I will have to tell you
about Claudia Vecchio.
She and Captain Ochre knew each other before they joined Spectrum. Indeed, they were engaged and lived
together in Chicago, which is one of the reasons she accepted a commission with
us. After his ‘death’, Claudia could not
accept what had happened to him and she broke it off. As if that wasn’t enough
for Ochre to contend with on top of his Mysteronisation, it was not long
afterwards that she started ‘dating’ you… I mean
Paul Metcalfe of course. Ochre
doesn’t know if he should blame her rejection of him on his fate, or on her
preference for Paul. Either way he
has found it hard to deal with the loss of the woman he loved. ”
Scarlet heaved a sigh and pulled a face. “Oh boy – it sounds like an episode of Peyton Place. I always
thought my colonel was too severe in his insistence that his officers’
friendships remain on a platonic level – but maybe the old man is right after
all?” He glanced up with a horrified expression. “I am sorry,” he apologised.
“No offence meant, sir.”
White
grimaced. “I’ve been called worse, so I expect your colonel has too.
Maybe I should ask you for some pointers as to how he manages to control
so many egoists and their rampant libidos?”
“Why
did Symphony refuse to join the Agency?” Scarlet asked, hurriedly changing the
subject.
“She’s
an ex-USS agent who worked for me before Spectrum was started.
And,” White said with a gleam of his dry humour, “I suspect she
discovered that her relationship with Blue was not an exclusive one… not on his
side of it anyway. Hell hath no
fury…”
“Like
Symphony with a grievance,” Scarlet finished for him and nodded. “In that much
at least she is consistent in both Worlds.”
White
gave a silent chuckle and a not too disapproving glance at the younger man. “Can you shed any light on what has happened to ‘our’ Scarlet
and Garnet, Captain?” he asked with some hesitation.
Scarlet drew a sharp breath and told the story of the bodies in the cave.
He saw the colonel’s expression harden as he heard him out in stony-faced
silence. As he came to the end of
his tale, White’s pale face showed considerable pain.
“They were both dead?”
“Yes sir, Garnet and … Scarlet.” He shrugged and
sighed, things were getting too complex for words.
“He is my wife’s nephew; did you know that?”
Colonel White asked bluntly.
“No, sir! I mean I am not
my colonel’s nephew!”
“My wife is his father’s step-sister. I watched
him grow from a boy…”
Scarlet shuddered; the idea of growing up with an
Uncle Charlie who was Colonel White was mind-boggling. “I am sorry, sir.
This must be a shock for you.”
“His family will be devastated.
I am not looking forward to telling them.”
“You accept that what I have told you is the
truth?” The hope in his voice made White smile.
“I see no alternative but to believe you,
Captain Scarlet. What you have told
me about the murders ties in with the report I had from Cerise too closely for
me to doubt that you saw the bodies exactly as you said you did.”
“Did Cerise say who was supposed to have killed
them?”
The colonel nodded. “Captain Magenta has plenty of
hit-men at his disposal - some of them in Spectrum.
It was one of those - Sergeant Ruffolo - from the Naples branch where Garnet
worked.”
Scarlet groaned.
He wanted more than ever to get out of this frustrating world and back to the
everyday irritations of his own reality.
Never again, he vowed, would he complain about the annoying characteristics of
his friends and colleagues.
Colonel White applied his mind to the problem.
He had a young man, who although he looked like his officer, claimed he was not. If this was the truth, then he and his
companion ought to be returned to their own reality with all despatch, before
Blue and Magenta found some devious way of exploiting the couple or their … inter-dimensional portal. He shuddered at his own choice of words
– it was hard enough to come to terms with what had happened without making it
sound like something from a second-rate Sci-Fi movie – but he had no other
terminology to describe the situation.
Scarlet too was considering his situation and reviewing the mistakes he had made
since his arrival. Going to Captain Blue seemed to have
been a major error on his part, although anyone who had seen the misery on Adam
Svenson’s face as he spoke of his dead mother and brother would have been hard
pressed to imagine him as a hardened gangster with no principles.
Surely, the Adam here couldn’t be so different
from his counterpart in the real world?
He
glanced at the older man and seeing his distinguished face set in an expression
of sadness, he spared a thought for this man who had lost a favoured nephew and
wondered if this colonel had any family of his own…
his cousins! He speculated
about his father’s half-sister the colonel had married… a woman who, like the
sister Blue said he had, did not exist in his own dimension.
The
colonel looked up and caught the young man’s eye.
“We have to see about getting you back to your own home, Captain. There will be
people worrying about you, I expect.”
”Yes,
sir, there will be.” Impulsively he reached across for the
colonel’s arm and laid his hand on it. “I just want to let you know, how sorry I
am about…Paul and Claudia …”
“Understood,
Captain,” White nodded and changed the subject brusquely.
“Although, in all honesty, I can’t even understand how you managed to survive
the initial fall through the water to the cave, let alone how you came to be
here.”
Conscious that he needed to be honest with the colonel, Scarlet replied, “Well,
you see, Colonel…” and as dispassionately as he could he told the colonel the
story of the events concerning the World President the way they had happened to
him. White listened with growing surprise as Scarlet revealed his history.
“Are
you telling me, Captain Scarlet that you –
you have the same ability as Captain Ochre?
You can survive any injury?”
“I
have the ability to retrometabolise and my body can recover from most injuries. As far as I know, I have not lost the
ability in this reality. Although
so far it has not been put to any great test,” he added reflectively. “All I can
say, in support of my claim, is that I can’t even show you the bruises I had…
it’s been long enough for them to clear up.
But if you ask Garnet, she can tell you that the fall broke my back, as
far as I could tell, anyway.”
“Did
you tell Blue this?” White asked urgently.
Scarlet shook his dark head. “I must’ve had some of my wits about me, after all. Something made me stop before I had gone that far.”
“Well,
we must be thankful for that, at least. Heaven knows what the Agency would try
to make you do if they knew.”
Chapter Five
There had always been parts of the lower decks of
Cloudbase given over to recreational facilities and now, as part of an uneasy
truce, the colonel had reluctantly acquiesced to the creation of several
restaurants, bars and ‘lounges’, administered by the Agency and allowed to
provide the staff with expensive alcohol, cigarettes, the opportunity to gamble
and the dubious joys of ‘negotiable
affection’.
It was in one of these restaurants that Blue wined
and dined Rhapsody Angel, and then they strolled along the wide corridor towards
the most luxurious of the Agency bars.
The young Englishwoman cast scornful glances at the group of provocatively clad
young ladies who were strolling aimlessly up and down the thoroughfare and, a
good many of whom, called friendly greetings at her escort. Blue seemed to know
several by name and was completely unabashed by his companion’s obvious
revulsion.
Dianne Simms was out of her depth and she knew it.
Her upbringing had been a sheltered one, far from the harshness of the
reality of life on the inner city streets of mid-twenty-first century London.
She knew such women existed, was fairly sure that some of the elegant creatures
she had met at cocktail parties and social functions were - more or less -
involved in the same trade, but at the other end of the scale of financial
rewards. Her father had been involved in a sordid
scandal when she was in her teens and her parents had separated for a time,
until Lord Robert had convinced his aristocratic wife to return to the family
fold for the sake of appearances.
Now Lady Susan lived in the country and rarely came to London, where her husband
pursued his diplomatic career and kept a ‘companion’ younger than his daughter.
Only one thing united her parents these days – the
need to save the family estate from being repossessed by an implacable bank -
and they both urged Dianne to find a husband with the resources to accomplish
this laudable aim. If she was unable to do this on Cloudbase,
they were insistent that she return to London and try her fortune amongst the
wealthy young men of the City firms.
It was not something she wanted to do, and the thought of it made her feel as if
she was no more than a commodity for her parents to barter to the highest
bidder. It was the main reason why
she was so assiduously, if anxiously, encouraging Blue to provide her with a way
out of her dilemma.
She glanced up at her companion as he strolled
beside her with an arrogantly casual air. In his favour, she reasoned, he was
both good-looking and good company.
His family had money to burn and he spent it freely when he wanted to.
He regularly bought her presents, the value of which astounded her, and
he seemed happy to indulge her.
Against that, he was totally self-centred, dedicated to his own pleasures and
had the morals of an alley cat. She
was not so naïve as to believe marriage would change him.
She was not even sure that she cared whether it would or not. But sleeping with Adam would be… much
less of a bind … than sleeping with some unknown chinless wonder from the City,
with less money and all the personality of a stale biscuit. Besides, she
believed that, after the obligatory production of a couple of blonde-haired,
blue-eyed babies – what her father always called ‘the
heir and the spare’ - Adam would be more than willing to let her retire to
the country, much as her mother had done, whilst he pursued his own …eclectic
pleasures.
As they entered the plush lounge-bar, the waiter
led them to a central table and brought a bottle of champagne without being
asked. Blue poured two flutes of the fizzing liquid, winked his eye
and tipped his glass against hers,
“Here’s looking at you, Kid,” he smiled, in the
worst impression of Humphrey Bogart she had ever heard. He drained his glass and
filled it again, encouraging her to do the same.
As she sipped her second glass of champagne, he
chattered on about inconsequential matters, whilst all the time he was checking
the other occupants of the room. He is rather good at making it look natural, the only thing is he forgets I know when he is doing it, because I can
do it too, she thought scathingly.
I wonder who he’s looking for.
Blue had finally found his target.
At a table set back amongst the heavy drapes and subdued lighting across from
the door, he saw Captain Magenta accompanied by a young blonde and a bottle of
bourbon. He smiled at Dianne and
said, “I am sorry,
sweetheart, will you be okay for a time? I
have to speak to Magenta, something’s come up and he ought to know about it. I promise I will make it up to you…
later.” He tipped her chin upwards
and kissed her lips gently.
In
your dreams you will!
she thought as she smiled with fluttering
eyelashes at him. “Well, all right then, but don’t be too long, Adam dear,” she said with a
pout.
He kissed her again as he prepared to leave the
table, “Order what you want and charge it to me.”
Sure,
she thought,
just like those girls out there probably do!
But she just waved coyly at him as he strolled across the lounge.
~oo0oo~
Captain Magenta had seen his partner come in with Rhapsody Angel and he watched
them billing and cooing at each other with a superior distain. Svenson irritated him, but deep within himself, Donaghue was honest enough to admit that he envied the easy-going, amoral sonofabitch. Svenson had always had money and treated it with
an apparently careless contempt that he
could not emulate. He
knew that money would always be his master, whereas Svenson was
undoubtedly the master of his money.
Patrick Donaghue knew he was good at his job – in fact - he was good at both of them. Spectrum was a
far more efficient organisation thanks to his computer skills and, in addition, the Syndicate’s Agency offshoot was now making more money than all of their
terrestrial operations put together, a fact which meant he now had more
power than ever amongst the secretive cabal who ran the Syndicate. Perversely, he was also far more
vulnerable to treachery amongst his peers than he had ever been before. He did not have the traditional
power-base of the other bosses, and if he failed to improve on his results he
would not last long amongst the elite of the Syndicate.
His parents had emigrated from Ireland to New York when he was still a toddler and
he had grown up in the bustling city. Naturally intelligent, he had done well at
school, earning a place at Yale University to study computers – honing a skill
he had developed since boyhood.
He was a passionate young man – idealistic and
liberal in his beliefs. An early brush with the law
- during
protests against Bereznian human rights violations - had earned him a prison sentence, yet though
he considered that almost as a badge of honour; he had vowed never to return to the institution.
His expertise with computers meant that he was finally able to get a job – any
kind of police record was still a barrier to employment - and he
settled for a lowly job
in the financial sector, which had quickly exhausted his interest and taken on
the aspect of mundane drudgery. More as a way of alleviating his boredom, he had devised programs to siphon funds
and cover his tracks; he
had broken encryptions and just occasionally, illicitly re-written programmes –
more to improve systems than to undermine them.
Then his family had got into trouble with a loan
shark. He’d raged against them for
even considering the loan in the first place, but on discovering the extent of
their indebtedness,
he had realised he could not cover their liabilities himself. Days of
feverish attempts to get the cash legitimately had failed and as the deadline
approached he had taken the decision to implement one of his test programs.
One evening under the pretext of working late, he had entered the program into
the system and watched as the money slid through the complex barricades of
numbered accounts he had set up.
He paid the loan shark
the next day.
Then he waited – waited for the knock on the door,
waited for the summons
to the central office, waited to lose everything - including his freedom.
Nothing happened.
The program, once installed, functioned perfectly and remained undetected. The
money piled up in his account. Whole new worlds opened up before his eyes…
decent clothes, nice cars, select apartments and pretty girls on his arm.
He soon
attracted the attention of the local crime syndicate and – after some initial
reluctance on his part – pocketed his ideals and joined them. Within
two years, he
was running one of the biggest syndicates – and doing it well.
He considered himself a businessman and when he
had heard through his government contacts about the proposal to create Spectrum,
he had instantly seen the possibilities. It was not a job he could afford
to leave to others – it had to be
handled with ‘tact’. So he
had decided to join the organisation himself and set up the systems properly.
It hadn’t taken too much hard work to arrange for his politicians to get him a
‘pardon’ and he had joined Spectrum shortly afterwards.
As it had been when he joined the syndicate – it was
a whole new world to conquer and he revelled in it. Once he had total
command of the powerful computer system,
he had begun to undermine the colonel’s
discipline and introduce the scams that now provided the ‘entertainments’ for
the staff.
It had
been a majority vote of the Syndicate that decided to draw the powerful SvenCorp
organisation into their orbit.
Although Donaghue had been providing Senator Ellis with ‘perks’ for some years,
he had deliberately steered clear of
the senator’s brother-in law - the formidable John
Svenson – whose financial chicanery within the letter of the law, was a
source of inspiration to the younger man.
He had agreed to the plan with reservations, especially when he found
that he was expected to work with Svenson’s son – a man whose reputation as a
wastrel was in sharp contrast to his father’s.
When Blue had joined him, he had initially despised him seeing - as many did - the playboy lifestyle and
boyish good looks as the sum of the character he had to deal with. But not
for long. Although Svenson
frequently goaded and tormented him, he
had to admit the man had brains and a gift for making money. To
his surprise, they doubled the Agency profits
within months as the money simply rolled in.
It
was a real shame
that every time he saw the ponce he
just
wanted to throttle him. But both men had soon developed a wary
respect for each other’s abilities; Magenta had learnt never to underestimate
this foppish dandy and Blue had witnessed too many examples of Magenta’s
unrelenting ambition and unforgiving brutality to risk pushing the other man too
far.
Now
Magenta watched his partner approach with a cynical expression on his dark
features. There could hardly be two men more
physically disparate than these two.
Blue was the taller by a couple of inches and of a broader build, his
shock of blond hair and smoky-blue eyes contrasted with the abundant, sleek
black hair and intense dark-hazel-brown eyes of the older Irish-American, whilst
his regular, clean-cut features and tanned skin made Magenta’s complexion look
pale and his high-bridged nose hooked.
“Evening,
Pat,” he drawled lazily, spinning a chair towards the table and sitting astride
it, leaning with his forearms on the back as he gazed across the table at the
bored blonde sitting by his partner.
Seeing the direction of Blue’s eyes and the blush
mounting on the girl’s cheeks Magenta growled, “Go powder your nose,” and the
young woman obediently scuttled away, but not without giving
the newcomer a shy smile under her lashes as she squeezed past him. Blue watched her walk away with a
calculating smile.
“Don’t you ever think of anything else?”
He turned back to the man opposite and accepted a
glass of bourbon from the bottle between them.
“Not often…and not for long,” he admitted.
“She’s new.” He nodded after the young woman.
“Uh-huh, and for once you can wait your turn,”
Magenta snarled grumpily.
Blue laughed, “Oh I have my hands full with her
ladyship…”
“Haven’t you had her
yet?” taunted Magenta adding as if in sympathy, “You must be losing your
touch.”
Blue turned his gaze on to him, his eyes icy with
disdain. “The day I do that, Padraig, you can shoot me.”
Magenta squirmed – Blue knew how that name annoyed
him. “The pleasure will be all mine, Mister Svenson. And I just hope she’s worth
it - but I doubt that – all Brits are frigid anyway.”
“Boy, have you been dating the wrong girls,” Blue
responded, filling his glass again.
“Be nice to her ladyship, my friend – or I won’t invite you to the wedding.”
Magenta gave a snort of laughter, “You
cannot
be serious?”
“Wheels within wheels, Paddy-boy,” Blue drawled.
Magenta’s dark eyes flashed with irritation, but
he needed Blue too much to allow a breach with the annoying
sonofabitch.
Blue watched closely for a long minute and saw the
flush on his partner’s sallow cheeks.
He was adept at pushing Donaghue to the brink of anger and then backing off, and
every time he played the game he pushed that little bit further and that little
bit harder. “But enough of this witty repartee,
Padraig, I want to know what you know about the return of Scarlet and
Garnet. Just what has gone wrong with your foolproof plan?
And, when you have told me all there is for me to know, I will tell you something that will make your Irish
eyes smile like a million dollars in gold….”
~oo0oo~
Across
the plush lounge Rhapsody Angel was still alone at her table and she beckoned
the waiter to bring her another bottle of champagne.
She was getting angry now and when the man placed a fresh bottle before her she
snapped at him and waved him away.
Turning to look across the room she could see her escort sitting at the table
with Captain Magenta, the fair head bent towards the dark as he listened to
whatever Magenta was saying. How could he be such a … peasant
as to leave her whilst he plotted with Magenta? By rights, after the time and energy she had put into making him
like her, he should have been dancing attendance on her and dropping subtle
hints about a future commitment.
Instead, he was wasting time, spending their precious hours together with
Patrick Donaghue! Men, she fumed.
You can’t trust them!
She
filled her glass again, sloshing at least half the bottle over the table in the
process. Then, fired by her righteous anger, she stood and made her way
unsteadily towards the pair of them. As she reached the table next to theirs she
almost lost her balance and grabbed a chair for support.
She sat down heavily and gulped at her wine.
Snatches of their conversation wafted back to her.
“And
you believed him, Svenson? You know
what a tricky customer Scarlet can be – they might be up to another of their
ineffectual plots aimed at destabilising our control.”
“That
was my first thought, right enough.
But he came to me: Mr Holier-Than-Thou-Metcalfe came asking my help!
He genuinely seemed to think we were still friends – as if I am ever
likely to forget, or forgive, the things he said to me when we formed our little
partnership, Padraig. I don’t believe he knew how things stood
around here. Maybe he got a bump on
the head and has lost the plot – but he seemed coherent enough. Besides, you told me Ruffolo would
‘deal’ with them at Etna, and Metcalfe said there were two dead bodies there,
which looked identical to him and Garnet. And that these bodies vanished when
Ochre and his team of interfering do-gooders arrived. At the very least, you
should send Ruffolo down to check if the bodies are still in the cave.”
“If
Ruffolo has been lying to me about doing the job properly he won’t live to
regret it,” Magenta said sharply.
“I will not tolerate being lied to.”
“Forget it, Padraig; no-one would dare lie to you.”
Magenta gave a snort. “No-one has ever tried to do it twice, that’s a truth.” He
twirled the liquid in his glass and drank it in one gulp. “I will send someone
to check – not Ruffolo though. Now,
you thought we might make use of this ‘portal’ - if it exists, which I still say
is a pretty big ‘if’ – what did you have in mind?”
“If I really need to spell it out
you’ve had too many bourbons, me boyo.”
Blue leant back, putting his hands behind his head and grinning impishly. “What
if it not only opens the possibility of moving between dimensions but also
through time? That would give us
the possibility of whole new worlds to conquer…the final frontier, indeed.”
“It is
not me who’s drunk…” Magenta taunted. “You’ve been watching too many re-runs of Quantum Leap.”
“Theoretically, if it moves between dimensions it should also open the time
continuum,” Blue said reasonably, ignoring the jibe.
“I
love it when you talk dirty.” Magenta couldn’t resist needling his partner. Blue
gave him a belittling grimace.
Magenta sighed. “Okay, Svenson, just to please you, we’ll take a look at Mr
Metcalfe’s fantastical portal. Oh, and by the way,” he added with considerable
satisfaction, as he watched the final collapse of the unsteady Rhapsody Angel,
“I think your date’s so drunk, that she’s just passed out.”
Blue
swore. This was really not his day.
Chapter Six
Stingray cruised back and forth across the choppy waters of the Straits of
Medina, with Captain Tempest and Phones Sheridan at the controls.
In the passenger bay, Atlanta Shore and Symphony Angel were, surprisingly,
gossiping like old friends whilst Atlanta painted the Angel pilot’s fingernails
in a selection of the latest fashionable colours.
Captain Blue was leaning on the rail that
edged the forward command section, scanning the horizon with a powerful pair of
binoculars. In theory he was looking for wreckage of
Gaspari and Dincerler’s boat or the volcanic pacifier, but in reality he was
hoping against hope for some indication that Scarlet had survived his fatal dive.
His body will do, he thought
miserably. He was sure that, even if Scarlet hadn’t recovered from a watery
death due to the prevailing conditions, back on Cloudbase Doctor Fawn would be
able to kick start his retrometabolic process and they would get him back. He was desperately trying to ignore the nagging logic in the
back of his mind that kept repeating the possibility that a dead Scarlet might
be trapped beneath these treacherous waters, his corpse a banquet for the local
crabs and lobsters.
Now I know why I don’t like seafood,
Blue thought distractedly.
“One
more sweep ought to do it, Skipper,” Phones drawled.
“By then we’ll have as good a picture of the seabed as we’re going to get.”
“Have
you been able to identify any anomalies?” Blue asked.
“It’s
hard to say, Cap’n,” Phones said reluctantly.
“The coast around here is a mass of boulders and outcrops.
It’s like the Rocky Mountains down there…”
Tempest turned to his friend. He was still concerned at Blue’s continuing
insistence that they would find Captain Scarlet alive.
“If anyone can find what we’re looking for, Phones can.
Stingray is equipped with latest equipment. It is more sensitive than anything you would get on a navy
ship, but even so, not even Stingray can detect a heartbeat down there, Adam.”
Blue
sought reassurance. “But you said there were caverns… under the surface?”
“Oh
sure, Cap’n Blue,” Phones agreed. “The whole side of the coast is honeycombed
with ’em.”
“And
you’ve had experience of underwater caves with air pockets in them, haven’t you,
Troy?”
“Well,
yes… it has happened. But those caves have to be the
exceptions to the rule…”
“If
there is one, Scarlet will have found it,” Blue said firmly and closed the
conversation by lifting the binoculars to his eyes again.
The
two WASP officers exchanged doubtful glances.
An
hour later all of the crew were studying the detailed 3-D sonar maps Phones had
produced.
“The
co-ordinates supplied by Harmony Angel indicate that the boat sank here…”
Symphony pointed at an area on the map with a frosted-pink fingernail.
“And
from what you can remember of where you and Grey searched… the wreckage covers
this area, all leading towards this stretch of coastline.” Troy ran his finger
along the jagged indents of the map. “It would seem the best place for us to
start searching. Any ideas about how you would like to
play this one, Adam?”
Blue
ran his fingers through his hair and leant back in his chair. He had been
considering this matter for some time.
“I was hoping that maybe you and Phones would search for the wreckage whilst I
tried to get into one of those caverns…”
To his
surprise both Troy and Symphony said, “No!” simultaneously.
“I
can’t agree to that,” Tempest said with a bright smile at the pretty Spectrum
pilot, whose face was rapidly turning bright red. “If you are planning to do
anything so hazardous, one of us should really go with you.”
“And I
can’t agree to that,” Blue sighed.
He couldn’t take the risk of someone outside of Spectrum learning about
Scarlet’s retrometabolism – however trustworthy a guy he might be.
“This
is
my ship, I am in
command, Captain, and if you want to go searching near the rocks, you will not
go alone – so make your mind up to that fact.” Tempest’s dark eyebrows sank in a
frown.
“For
reasons I cannot elaborate…” Blue
began his customary explanation for non-Spectrum personnel.
“No,”
Tempest interrupted firmly.
“Captain Blue, I have to agree with Captain Tempest here,” Symphony said.
Overcoming both her embarrassment and her determination to be severe with her
errant boyfriend she continued, “If he says it is too dangerous for you to go
alone, I should come with you…”
This
time it was Captain Tempest and Captain Blue who rejected the suggestion in
unison.
“Certainly not,” Tempest smiled at her.
“I know Adam’s a good diver, I’ve seen him, but I don’t know how competent you
are, Symphony, and I am not prepared to let you take unnecessary risks.”
“I am
pretty good,” she asserted.
“But
inexperienced,” Blue reasoned. “I’d only end up watching out for you and that
would waste the limited time I have underwater.”
“So,
I’m a waste of time now, am I?” she bridled even though she knew she was being
unreasonable.
“Please, Karen, not now.” There was real steel in his voice, despite the polite
words.
Atlanta gave a derisive snort and placed a sympathetic hand on Symphony’s arm.
Her next words came as something as a surprise to all three men present. “I hate
to say it, Honey, but they’re right.
Even I wouldn’t volunteer to go out there right now.”
Symphony’s expression showed just how betrayed she was feeling, but she said
nothing and contented herself with fuming in silence – for now.
As the
silence deepened, Phones spoke up. “Well, it seems to me that if we’re hoping to
find Cap’n Scarlet, that search had better be our priority, so Troy and Cap’n
Blue had better go together and I’ll do the investigation of the wreckage site. Atlanta and Miss Symphony can man
Stingray and maintain radio contact.”
“Absolutely…” Tempest agreed.
“There
are reasons why…” Blue began one final attempt to divert the aquanauts from
searching for Scarlet.
“Take
it or leave it, Captain. We go together or you don’t go at all. I am serious. I’ll have you charged with mutiny and slammed in the brig.”
Troy was only partly teasing as he stood and stretched. “We’ll take Stingray down and closer to the site, to avoid
the tedious decompression time. Do
you have all the necessary gear, Captain, or can we supply you with anything?”
“No, I
have all the things I’ll need, thanks.” Blue was not pleased, but he knew this
was probably the only logical way to proceed. “Let’s get out there as soon as we
can.”
~oo0oo~
Captain Ochre slammed down his beer glass and threw some coins on the bar.
He was sick of the taste of the damn stuff – and as watered down as it
was, the chance of it making him even remotely tipsy was slight. He turned to leave and saw Scarlet
sitting at a table watching him intently.
Annoyed and not a little self-pitying, he walked across and said
fiercely, “What are you
looking at, Metcalfe?”
Scarlet shrugged. “A man in need of a decent drink, I’d say.
I have some Scotch whisky… if you are interested.”
“If
you bought it from these crooks, it is probably watered down paint thinner.”
“No,
this was a birthday present from my father – a man who knows his single malts as
well as you know misery.”
Ochre
bristled and glared at the Englishman.
“Watch it, I am still the superior officer,” he growled.
“And I
can drink you under the table any time you want to try.”
“Wanna
bet?”
“Sure
– come with me and we’ll see who collapses first.”
Ochre
gave a mocking smile. “Maybe you haven’t heard, Metcalfe, but I can drink any
stuff I want for as long as I want and I don’t even get tipsy.
You’d lose.”
Scarlet shrugged again. “If you’re too frightened to try…”
Ochre
grabbed him by the padded collar of his tunic and hauled him upright. “Okay,
Limey… lead on.”
Scarlet shrugged his hands away and led the way back to his corridor, Ochre
walking just behind him and not speaking even in reply to his opening gambits.
Eventually he gave up and walked in silence too.
In his
quarters, Scarlet fished out one of the whisky bottles his father had sent him. He always sent three, every December – one for his birthday,
Christmas and the New Year - knowing his son often enjoyed a slug of whisky
before turning in. He found two
small tumblers, uncorked the bottle and offered it to Ochre, who poured himself
a generous measure and sniffed it appreciatively.
Scarlet fought to curb the smile that rose to his lips; the Ochre from
his world liked his whisky too.
The
colonel was very strict about enforcing the regulations forbidding alcohol on
the base and he only made an exception for these bottles - which Scarlet was
sure he knew about - because he trusted his officer to behave sensibly with
them. One of the perks with retrometabolism was the inability to get really
drunk – alcohol had only the minutest of effects on his body and before it could
become a problem, his immune system cut in and wiped it out of his blood stream. It was great for parties and, on
the rare occasions he and his friends actually got to a party, he was always the
designated driver.
He
poured himself an equally generous slug and tilted his glass in Ochre’s
direction, “Slainte Mhor,” he said with a wry grin.
“Cheers,” Ochre said, speaking for the first time since they left the bar.
He tipped the glass back and drained it.
Scarlet matched him and emptied his glass, although he thought it a waste of
good malt to drink it like that. He pushed the bottle across, inviting
his guest to help himself. Ochre filled his glass again, but this time he sipped
at it and Scarlet followed suit.
They went on this way until the bottle was three-quarters empty. Ochre eyed Scarlet in some doubt; he
expected the guy to be showing signs of drunkenness by now, but the Englishman
remained as relaxed and coherent as he was himself.
Scarlet returned the stare with a wry grimace and said, “I have another bottle…
but it’s the last one, I’m afraid.”
Ochre
put the glass back on the table and said curtly, “Okay – what the hell is going
on here? What have you done to this stuff?”
“Nothing. It’s the finest single malt – you saw me break the seal on
the bottle. Doesn’t it taste right? You’re used to Bourbon, I know, but
you’ve always appreciated a good malt before.”
“Before? I have never drunk malt with you until now,” Ochre protested.
“In fact I’ve never drunk anything with you before… not even Bourbon.”
“Well,
strictly speaking, you are right, I guess.
But I have had the odd wee dram with Richard Fraser before now.
In fact, on your last birthday I gave you a bottle of the stuff…”
Ochre
stood and stared down. “You have never given me anything,
Metcalfe – in fact you only take things from me!”
Scarlet shrugged and emptied his glass, “You mean Claudia?
You may not want to believe this, but she means nothing to me. I have been involved with another woman for some time now…”
Ochre’s punch landed squarely on Scarlet’s jaw, taking him by surprise, lifting
him off his seat and sending him toppling backwards over the chair.
“What
do you mean – another woman? Are you two-timing Claudia?
If you have done anything to hurt her, I’ll thrash you within an inch of your
miserable life, you bastard!” He
advanced with every intention of carrying out his threat and stood towering over
Scarlet who was struggling to his feet.
Well
aware of just how much force to expect from the beating Ochre was threatening
him with, Scarlet braced himself. His own strength had been enhanced since his
Mysteronisation and every time he retrometabolised his stamina returned
unimpaired. He flinched as the first strike landed
on him and each subsequent one, yet he refused to defend himself. He felt sure
that Ochre would only believe his story if he had seen the proof for himself.
“Calm
down, if you will just hear me out…” he panted as he winced under the power of
the blows.
“Fight
me, you craven coward!”
“No,”
Scarlet mumbled through cut and bruised lips.
With a
scream of frustrated rage, Ochre spun away, dropping his head into his hands and
drawing in great gulps of air.
However angry he was he could not continue to thrash this man who refused to
make even the smallest attempt to defend himself.
He was well aware of his ability to kill him with his bare hands, if he wished.
Thankful that he had not misjudged his opponent and that the men in both
realities shared a fundamental decency, Scarlet manipulated his aching jaw and
waggled a loose tooth with his tongue. “Feeling better?” he asked walking to the
bathroom sink and filling and refilling a glass with water, which he drank in
great draughts.
Ochre’s head came up and he turned to look at his opponent, surprised he was
still standing at all. He had not pulled any of his punches. As he stared at Scarlet he could see the
swelling go down on his lips and the bruise around his eye fade through yellow
to the normal skin tone.
“What
the hell…?” Ochre’s face was a picture of confused surprise as his hand went
automatically to his holster. He
drew his pistol and pointed it at Scarlet. “You
are a Mysteron!” Scarlet struck out, knocking the gun from his visitor’s
hand, sending it spinning across the narrow room.
Ochre dived for it, but he was no match for Scarlet in a fair fight and found
himself quickly subdued.
“Listen to me, Ochre,” Scarlet panted, twisting the American’s arm higher behind
his back. “I am no more a Mysteron than you are.”
He
pushed the man away and picked up the gun, throwing it with some contempt across
the table so that Ochre could pick it up if he wished.
“I
don’t understand…”
“I
tried to tell you, but you had... different priorities.
And, may I just say, that if you try that again I
will
defend myself and you won’t know what’s hit you, Fraser. I have always been the better soldier –
and you know it.”
“Who
the hell are you?”
“Paul
Metcalfe… sit down and I will try to explain.”
With a
sigh, Scarlet began to go through his remarkable story yet again.
I ought to get a tape recorder and
just let them listen to that…. he thought ruefully.
As his
story came to its conclusion, he glanced across at the silent Ochre to see that
the man was crying. His dark head
was buried on his arms, resting on the tabletop. He hadn’t expected this kind of
reaction. He had seen the scepticism on the
American’s face as his tale unrolled, but still, he had turned away with
considerate tact as he began to speak about finding the bodies of Lieutenants
Scarlet and Garnet. The unnatural
silence only gradually dawned on him and now, as he turned, he could see Ochre’s
shoulders shaking.
At a
loss, he poured another glass of malt and placed it by the man’s head. If it had
been the real Adam this upset, he would have put an arm around him – but he had
never been that close to Ochre and he didn’t know if this mercurial man would
appreciate it – in either dimension.
He patted his shoulder vaguely and moved away to allow him some privacy. Whatever he thought of this Ochre and his persistent
antagonism, the man had obviously been deeply in love with Lieutenant Garnet,
and he couldn’t help feeling sympathy with his shock and misery at hearing of
her death. He must have believed he
had saved her when they discovered the cave, and maybe even losing her to
Lieutenant Scarlet was preferable to a World without her at all. He felt that
way about Dianne.
Eventually Ochre regained his composure and muttered with some embarrassment, ‘I
apologise.”
“Don’t. I am truly sorry about Claudia – but whatever happened
between the three of you was nothing to do with me - you do see that, I hope?”
Ochre
shrugged. “She couldn’t cope with all the implications of what happened at the
Car-Vu – I’m not sure I can myself even now -so why should I blame her?”
Scarlet sat opposite and poured himself another drink.
“I’ve had it easier than you on the whole, I think, and even I feel like howling
sometimes. I was not involved with anyone when it happened to
me, and I was fortunate enough that when I did fall in love, she reciprocated my
feelings, despite my … condition.”
“Then
she must be an exceptional woman.”
“Yes,
I happen to think she is.”
“And
Garnet, the woman we brought out of the cavern with you?”
“The
first time I met her was when we were marooned in that cave and
- if it helps any – she has never met the Captain Ochre in our World and never
been stationed on Cloudbase, either.”
“You
are sure they were dead? You couldn’t be mistaken?” Ochre
pleaded.
“No,
Rick, no mistake. I’m sorry.”
Ochre
nodded. He drew a deep breath and said, “What do you propose to do?
I take it you are not planning to stay here?”
“I am no expert, Rick, but
everything I do know suggests it would not be a good idea. Besides, I have to get back to… my
duties – and my friends.”
“Am I
one of them?”
“For
my part, I have always considered you a friend – but I guess it is fair to say
we have not always seen eye-to-eye,” Scarlet smiled. “You can be an annoying
practical joker at times – and frankly - at first I thought all this was one of
your pranks.”
Ochre
grimaced. “Oh, I’ve had my moments.
But I don’t feel much like joking these days.” There was a prolonged silence
which was broken by his sudden desolate cry: “How do you bear it?”
Scarlet shrugged. “What choice does either of us have?
It was hard to get used to, I felt like an outsider, a freak. But it seems I was
luckier than you have been, I had - I have - good friends.
I owe them more than I can ever repay.
Without Adam and Dianne and the others, I would feel much as you do,
believe me.”
“Adam? You mean Blue? He’s the man who got me into this
nightmare!”
“That
is where we see it differently,” Scarlet mused. “To me, he is the man who
released me from a possible eternity as the slave of the Mysterons. He would say he was merely doing his duty – which is also
true – but I see myself fortunate that he had the strength of character to shoot
his friend when he had to. Above
all, once I was fully recovered he believed in my redemption – when others
doubted. We are partners, we work closely
together and he has never faltered in his support, or his friendship.”
Ochre
gave a sceptical look at the Englishman opposite and saw nothing but honesty in
his expression. “And Dianne is the woman you love?” he asked quietly.
Scarlet nodded. “She’s my hope for the future and my sanctuary from the horrors
of the present,” he said simply.
“They
must be very different to the people we have here,” Ochre spat. “Those two are a
waste of space.”
“I
wouldn’t say that exactly. From the little I have been able to
discover, circumstances have just made them react in different ways to similar
problems.” Ochre’s sceptical expression returned, but Scarlet pressed on
positively. “You have friends here
– people willing to support and… care for you – if only you would let them,” he
reasoned, remembering the look on Flaxen’s face as she had watched Ochre climb
from the cave.
The
American gave a vehement shake of his dark head.
“Nah, most of the people here have been corrupted or were corrupt anyway. I wouldn’t let them near me.”
“Most,
not all,” Scarlet replied significantly.
“The
colonel means well, but he hasn’t got the authority to stop the Agency.
Whenever we think we have struck home, Magenta’s hit-squads move in or
Blue calls in the big guns. After
all, his Uncle is a World Senator and the World President is so grateful that he
pulled him off the Car-Vu, he won’t hear a word against him!” Ochre shook his
head despondently. “Symphony’s okay
– the best of the Angels, anyway – she’s a bright girl under all that dumb-show.
Her big weakness is Blue. God knows why, but she cares for that creep.”
“Yes,
I thought as much. It seems to be universal truth,” Scarlet
smiled.
“Your
Symphony does too, eh? Poor kid.”
“Not
at all – she runs rings around him most of the time,” Scarlet’s tone was
affectionate as he thought of his friends.
“They make a damn-near-perfect couple – it’s so sweet it’s nauseating.”
Ochre
gave a snort of laugher. “No wonder you were confused. Blue is a sleaze-ball! You cannot trust him on anything.”
“Unfortunately before I knew all of this, I told him what had happened…”
“You
did what?”
“I
went to ask his help, as I would have asked the Adam I know.”
“Holy
shit!”
“Quite. It was fortunate that I had the nous not to tell him everything.
He doesn’t know about my retrometabolism. ”
“You
had the what?” Ochre frowned.
Scarlet blinked in surprise. Adam had quickly grown accustomed to his use of
British-English – and indeed his own speech was occasionally peppered with words
and phrases that had caught his fancy.
“The common sense,” he explained with a sigh.
“Does
anyone else know?”
“Only
Colonel White. Oh, and my Lieutenant Garnet, of course.
She may have spoken to Doctor Fawn, but I haven’t.”
“If
the colonel knows then, it’s my guess that Symphony will know,” Ochre said
confidently. “He confides in her, far more than he
does in me. And if Blue knows, the
chances are Magenta also knows, at least as much as Blue wants to tell him. You have made a dangerous mistake.”
“Then
I must live with the consequences and attempt to ensure whatever they plan to do
goes awry.” Scarlet studied Ochre and added, “Can I rely on your help, Rick?”
Ochre
nodded. “Of course, all the more if it shafts Blue and Magenta!”
Scarlet smiled and passed the malt across once
more.
It was probably as much enthusiasm as he was going to get from his
companion. Now all that remained to
be done was to find a way for him and Garnet to get home.
Child’s
play, really, he thought ironically as he drowned his fears in a large malt
whisky.