Fiction

The Northern Lights: A Doctor in the House Part III

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Nine:  A Doctor in the House Part III

For Part I, click here.

For Part II, click here.

London.

“Now, try not to stand out!” instructed the Doctor.  “The year is 1977 and we are looking for Mr. Derek Riggs, the man who…”

An excited Mike spoke up.  “The very man who would paint all of Iron Maiden’s ‘real’ classic album covers?”

The Doctor, a tall Scottish man with curly white hair in a black coat, sighed in impatience.  “Yes.  Derek Riggs, who was murdered in an altered timeline, in this city, tonight at two minutes to midnight.  Only this time, he won’t be.  This time, we’re going to intercept the killer, and stop them from altering the timeline.  Are we all clear?”

Johnny Homework stood and saluted.  “Got it, Captain.  Err, I mean Doctor!”

“Got it,” said Harrison, never one to use seven words when he can use two.

“Me too,” said Mike in rare brevity.

“Squee squee!” said Ripper the Squirrel, as he raised a paw.  “Squee!”

“Right!” said the Doctor as he placed his trademark sunglasses over his eyes.  “Let’s go.  Oh!”  He stopped and turned.  “If any of you were alive in 1977, try to avoid meeting your past selves.  Terribly complicated stuff that is.  Just avoid it completely.  Okay?”

Harrison laughed.  “No chance of running into me for a few decades!” he remarked.

“Good.  Great,” said the Doctor.  He clapped and turned.  “Alright!  Off we go.”

The group walked a few steps when suddenly the Doctor halted them.  “Oh, fer…not YOU!”

Before them stood another familiar man, walking in the opposite direction.  Dressed in a floppy brown hat, brown coat, and long multicoloured scarf, his brown curls cascaded over his shoulders.  His eyes, already quite wide, grew only wider.  He stopped in his tracks.  “Do I know you sir?”

“Ohhhh no, but you will.  You will…Doctor,” said Number Twelve.

Realizing who stood before him, the man in brown turned away slightly.  “I don’t think we should be meeting like this…”

“Who is it?” asked Johnny.

Mike answered.  “That, my friend, is the Doctor.  The Fourth Doctor.  The legendary Fourth Doctor!  Arguably the best of them all, but that’s between him and Twelve as far as I rank them.”

“Wow,” said Harrison.  “You must be very excited Mike.”

“Yes!  I’m very excited!  But also scared to death!  Should they be meeting like this?”

“Scared is like a superpower Mike, remember that!” said a calming Johnny.  Meanwhile, the two Doctors were eyeing each other.

“What are you doing here?” asked the Twelfth.

“You don’t remember?” asked the Fourth.  “I’m here with Leela and K-9 on a bit of a holiday.”

“Where are they now?” questioned Twelve.

“They’re at a shop having K-9 serviced, you can’t remember any of this?” queried Four.

“No, I don’t,” thought Twelve.  “Someone has been re-writing history.  Why does K-9 need servicing?” he asked.

“It was the oddest thing,” said Four.  “We were preparing to depart for the Lighthouse on Fang Island, but before we boarded the TARDIS, a mohawked thug attacked us with a knife.  He did some minor damage to K-9 and we needed some spare gaskets, we were all out.”

Twelve thought to himself.  “Fang Island I remember.  K-9 being damaged, I don’t.  I wonder if this is connected to what we are investigating.”

Johnny Homework, who had indeed done his homework, raised his hand.  “Umm, Doctors?  The murder we were here to investigate, Derek Riggs?  He was also killed – err, will be killed – in a knife attack.  On this day, tonight.  Witnesses described an assailant with a ‘Mohican haircut’.”

“Same day, same weapon?” both Doctors said simultaneously.  Then Twelve thought to introduce his companions.

“Doctor, I’d like you to meet Johnny, Mike and Harrison.  The little black primitive mammal and supreme troublemaker is Ripper.  Don’t trust that one,” he cautioned.

“Nice to meet you Doctor, I’m such a fan,” said a gushing Mike.  “When I was a kid I asked my mom to make me a scarf just like yours.”

Number Four feigned surprise, but knew his scarf was awesome.  “Why thank you, young man.  Now, I usually hate to defer to someone else’s leadership other than my own, but in this situation you seem to know more about what is going on than I do.  Do we have a plan, Doctor?”

Twelve smiled with phony confidence.  “I always have a plan.”

He did not have a plan.  He had been too busy trying to save humanity, and forgot to think of one.

“That’s great!” said Mike.  “What is it?”

Improvising, Number Twelve plotted.  “The plan is…” he paused, still trying to think of a plan.  “The plan is, we know where Derek Riggs is to be murdered tonight, and we know when, and we ever know how!  With a knife at precisely two minutes to midnight, on the corner outside the Ruskin Arms in East Ham.  So: we hide, we lie and await the killer, and when we see Mr. Riggs, Johnny will tail him from a safe distance to ensure his safety.”  Johnny nodded in understanding.  “Don’t let him out of your sight.  Mike and Harrison, you will stay close with us.  When the killer makes himself known, the Doctor and I will apprehend him and bring him back to the TARDIS for interrogation.  Are we clear?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative.

“Good,” said Twelve.  “Let’s go scope out the location.”

East Ham

It was dark.  The Doctors and companions were alert and hidden.  At the corner of Ruskin Ave and High St. North, they awaited in position, out of sight and silent.  Johnny Homework stood on the corner, waiting to spot Derek Riggs, should he appear as scheduled.  Johnny wondered if all the time travel and interference they had witnessed would mean that Derek Riggs might not show at all.  He pulled his hair back into a ponytail when the English wind kept blowing it in his face.  He wondered why the Fourth Doctor’s hair was always in perfect curls no matter what the wind was doing.  Might be the hat.

The minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow.  They hunched in phone booths, by dumpsters, and avoided lamplight.  They breathed heavy.  Ripper the Squirrel, blending in with the night, leaped from a brown telephone box to a lamp post, the ultimate lookout.  From below, Harrison had eyes on Ripper, awaiting any signal.

Ten minutes to midnight.  Johnny, uncomfortable in his shoes, shifts his weight from foot to foot.  He loosens his collar.  The seconds pass as slow as time-snails.

Nine minutes to midnight.  Mike’s glasses fog up, rendering him visionless.  He takes them off to wipe on his T-shirt, but his breath keeps repeating the problem.

Eight minutes to midnight.  Ripper loses his footing a moment, but regains his balance.  Harrison almost misinterprets this as a signal.

Seven minutes to midnight.  People are streaming out of the Ruskin Arms, as a local band finished their set.  The street crowds with pubgoers in various stages of intoxication.  Johnny panicks.  Too many people.   He can’t make out if Riggs is one of them or not.

Six minutes to midnight.  The Doctors look at each other with serious eyes.  One’s large and protruding, the other’s framed by unruly grey eyebrows, like little wire brushes.  Number Twelve removes his sonic screwdriver from his pocket.  Four follows his lead.

Five minutes to midnight.  The crowd was already thinning as taxis ferried away many of the concert goers.  A few people remained.  One vomits in a garbage can, not far from where the Doctors hide.

Four minutes to midnight.  Derek Riggs, young and skinny, emerges from the thinning mass of humans, and lights a cigarette beneath a yellow streetlamp.  It is like a scene from one of his own Iron Maiden album covers.  Johnny spots him and moves into a better position to tail him.

Three minutes to midnight.  One of the taxis lets a man out, rather than picking someone up.  The man is dressed like a punk and is very out of place for this crowd.  He has a mohawk and walks in Riggs’ direction.  Ripper gives the signal.  With fear as his superpower driving his actions forward, Johnny Metal walks in the direction of Derek Riggs.  The Mohican does the same.  Johnny has to hurry, or the punk would reach him first!  Derek smokes unawares, still deafened by the show.  The Doctors, Mike and Harrison all rise from their positions.

Two minutes to midnight.  Johnny runs to Riggs….

It was like time, frozen.  Everything unfolded in a few blinks of an eye.

“Hey, Derek!  How ya doing?” said Johnny as he rushed Derek Riggs.  Riggs looked up.  Johnny was in the air, tackling Riggs and pushing him out of danger!  Johnny and Derek both hit the pavementm, a little harder than intended.  Both men were winded from the fall.

The punk was soon on top of them both.  Pinned beneath his knees, the assailant cared not whether he killed one or two people tonight.  Maybe he’d be paid more if he killed both of these men.

He raised his knife in the air, readying to kill the smaller man, Riggs – his primary target – first.  Then, when he was bleeding out, he’d finish with his long-haired friend.  He prepared to strike, but suddenly froze in pain.  He threw the red-hot blade to the ground and screamed, as his hand burned.

The Doctors emerged with their sonic screwdrivers, which had caused the knife to heat up to 200 degrees in an instant.  Mike kicked the blade away from the punk, while Harrison attended to Johnny and Riggs.  The punk, in pain but also in survival mode, pushed past the two Doctors, and ran down Ruskin Ave.  Mike gave pursuit, as the two Doctors recovered their balance.  Johnny and Harrison then tended to Derek Riggs, and brought him back inside the Ruskin Arms while Mike lost ground to the fleeing punk.

Thinking he had evaded his pursuers, the mohawked punk ducked in a doorway to catch his breath.  The pain caught up with him; his right hand sizzling from the hot knife.  He held in a scream, but it didn’t matter.

From above, Ripper the Squirrel leaped onto his mohawked head.  With only a thin line of hair to protect him, Ripper’s claws made deep scratches in his scalp, and then his face.  The punk tried to swipe Ripper away, but he was training in the art of Australian Ninjitsu.  He easily hung onto the punk, digging deep furrows into his face.  Soon the punk was surrounded, with two sonic screwdrivers pointed directly at him.

The Twelfth Doctor approached the punk and smiled.  “Got you.”

The punk spat.  “Get stuffed mate!”

“Oh, we will.  We will.  On tea and cakes when we return from this mission, I specifically requested hot tea, and cakes are just expected at evening with hot tea,” sneered number Twelve.

“What, old man?” asked the punk.

“He’s not a man, he’s a Time Lord.  And you’re coming with us,” said Mike.  “And you’re gonna answer our questions.  And if you don’t, Ripper will persuade you that it’s in your best interests.  Follow me…mate?”

The punk nodded in grave understanding.

The punk was restrained aboard the TARDIS.  Both doctors and all the companions surrounded him.  Number Twelve had assumed control of the interrogation.  Ripper sat atop the punk’s head, messing up his mohawk.  The punk was already bleeding from the punishment he took back at the Ruskin Arms.

“Now, I’ll cut to the chase.  You don’t look like the time travelling type, now are you?” questioned Twelve.

“Wot?” asked the punk.

“Didn’t think so.  So you’re being paid, yes?”

“Y-yes.”

“By whom?” said the Doctor with grave sincerity.

“Get stuffed mate!”

“Is that a first, middle and last name?  Or should Ripper ask you this time?”

Ripper licked his fangs.

“Listen…he…he…told me if I ratted him he, he’d kill me ‘e would!”

“Well, then it’s a question of how you’d rather die.  Death by squirrel claw is quite slow and…stingy”  Ripper raised a paw in response.

“Alright!  Alright!  I’ll talk.  He’s called…I call him General Pepperpot.”

Mike had had enough.  “Oh come on!  That’s not a name!”

“I…I don’t know his real name!” said the punk.  “I call him General Pepperpot!  Not to his face, but I don’t know his name!”

“But you know his face?” asked the Fourth Doctor?  “You’ve seen…you’ve seen this General Pepperpot’s face?”

“Yes but I don’t know his real name, believe me mate!” pleaded the punk.

“What does he look like,” asked number Four.

“He’s…blind…literally his eyes are gone!  He’s in an electric wheelchair…” the punk stopped talking.  Then he yelled “I don’t know his real name!”

“He’s lying,” said Mike.  “He knows more.”

Ripper prepared a claw, and aimed it at the punk’s eyebrows.

“OK!  OK!  Like I said it’s not a name I ever heard before!  Hard to remember but starts with a D!  Not David…not Dennis…  Something with a D, I can’t remember mate, I swear, it’s a weird name blokes!”

The two Doctors spoke simultaneously.  “Davros!”

The punk’s eyes suddenly exploded in size.  “N…N…No…”

“It’s Davros!” said Twelve.  “That’s who’s behind this!  We ran into the Daleks on the last leg of this trip.”

“Davros,” said Four.  “We must be cautious.”

“We must,” agreed Twelve.  He turned to the punk.  “Tell us where to find Davros.”

“I can’t.  He’ll kill me,” cowered the punk.

The Doctor sighed.  “Ripper…convince him.”

It only took Ripper minutes to divulge all the needed information from the punk, who they left at the local police with his face mostly intact.  The Doctors and companions considered their next move.

“If Davros is behind all this, then we can be assured that the Earth and its future are at stake,” said Four.  Twelve nodded in agreement.

“Maybe the universe itself,” added the older Doctor.

“So what do we do?” asked Mike.  “Do we just knock on the door and say ‘Hey Davros it’s us, can we come in’?”

Four looked at Twelve.  “Why not?  Let’s do just that.”

“Are you serious right now?” asked Johnny.

“Yes.  Perfectly,” said Twelve.  “Apparently they were supposed to meet at a specific warehouse, for which we now have the address thanks to Ripper.  Let’s go meet Davros.”

The Twelfth Doctor manned the TARDIS console while the Fourth watched.

“I must say,” said Four as he cast his gaze about.  “I don’t like what you’ve done with the place.”

“It suits me,” said Twelve.  “I tire of the old plain white, stainless steel, that you and your predecessors are so fond of.”  He pulled the controls, and the TARDIS made the quick jump to the warehouse on the south side.

The crew soon disembarked, and approached the darkened warehouse door.

“Should we knock?” asked Four.

“Nae,” answered Twelve.  The two raised their sonic screwdrivers to the door.   They each activated their devices, but they had no effect.  They each tried again, only to fail a second time.

Mike approached the door on his own.  He knocked.  Then, in the worst accent he could muster, he shouted.  “Oi!  Davros!  Riggs is dead ‘e is, open the door and lemme in.”  He paused.  Everyone cringed at his punk rocker impression, but suddenly the door opened before them!  Shrugging, Mike led them inside.

The group walked cautiously through the doorway, into the warehouse.  They looked around, when suddenly a side door opened on the right.  From the door emerged two Daleks.

“THE DOC-TOR!” alerted one.

“TWO DOC-TORS! alerted the other.  “EXTERMINATE!”

“ALERT DAVROS!  HE MUST EVACUATE!  EVACUATE!  EVACUATE!”

One Dalek turned to attend to Davros, while the other turned to face the Doctors and companions.  The first Dalek disappeared behind the closing door while the other aimed its eyestalk at Twelve.

“YOU…YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.”

“Well that’s rather presumptuous of you to say,” replied Twelve.  “Now get out of our way.  We have a visit with Davros scheduled and we hate to be late.”

“EXTERMINATE!”

But then, from the rafters above, leaped Ripper the Squirrel!  He landed directly on the Dalek’s weapon, deflecting the shot awkwardly onto the ground.  On cue, Johnny, Mike and Harrison attacked the Dalek, with Johnny ripping the weapon from its socket while the other two restrained the Dalek.  Harrison then knocked the Dalek’s eyestalk askew using Australian Kung-Fu, blinding the alien machine.

“BLINDED…BLINDED…” cried the Dalek in its digital voice.

“Come on!” commanded the Twelfth Doctor!  “To Davros!”

The party ran through the side door, but it was too late.  Davros’ lab was there, but empty.  Abandoned.  They had escaped.  Davros always has an escape route.  The group sighed in disappointed dejection.

“All this for nothing?  No Davros?” asked Mike.

“Not for nothing,” answered Twelve.  We stopped him from killing Riggs, and next would have been David Walker, which would have prevented him from joining Black Sabbath.”

“Look!” shouted Four.  “Davros may have escaped but he left everything behind.”  He pointed at a screen.  He motioned Harrison to come forward.  “Do these names look familiar to you?”

Harrison looked at a screen, and placed his hands on a console.  He gasped as he looked at the names on it.

“Ozzy Osbourne…Ronnie James Dio…Geezer Butler…Tony Iommi…” Harrison paused and read ahead.  “He has everyone who was ever going to be in Black Sabbath…all of Deep Purple…Iron Maiden…Judas Priest…Fleetwood Mac…even the singer from Rush.  The list goes on and on!  Riggs and Walker were just the start of a mass killing spree!”

Johnny Homework spoke up.  “It would have been a heavy metal holocaust.  All of our favourite bands.  But why?”

“There’s more here…so much more…” said Harrison.  Suddenly, three of the screens above them came to life.

“Doctor!  You have failed again!”  It was the eyeless visage of Davros, encased in his Dalek armor.  He was taunting them.

Number Four spoke up.  “But why, Davros?  What did you hope to gain?”

Davros laughed.  Suddenly, the console on which Harrison had been working heated up.  “Stand back!” said Harrison.  The console exploded into sparks.  The screens over their heads went black.

“Davros.  He destroyed the data!” said Mike.

“Not all of it!” said Harrison.  “Quickly, I need to tell you everything I read!”

The Doctors and companions stood in a circle aboard the TARDIS.  Harrison sat in the center, recalling every detail he could remember.

“OK, deep breath,” said Harrison as he began.  “Here comes the exposition part.  My friends and Doctors, we are in a time loop paradox.  It started when we arrived in 66,000,000 BC and changed history.  Then, when we arrived in the alternate 1977, some time-traveling Daleks were already there.  They found an unpopulated Earth, and they told Davros all about it.”

“But we prevented that alternate timelime,” said Johnny.

“It wouldn’t matter,” explained Twelve.  “The Daleks sent a message through time and space, and our Davros, in our time received it.  Thus, informing our Davros of Earth’s possible alternate future.”

“And that is exactly what happened,” confirmed Harrison.  “But there is more.  Not only was Davros now aware of Earth’s possible future, but he also became aware for the first time of a certain superhero team called the Northern Lights.”

“Oh, no.  I was afraid you were going to say that,” groaned Mike.

Harrison continued.  “He came to 1977, a critical period in time for so much of the music that drew us all together.  He contacted local thugs and began his intended, but now prevented, murder spree.”

“But why?” asked Johnny.

“A two-fold answer, a possible win-win for Davros.  Before we prevented his killing, the death of Derek Riggs and Dave Walker got our attention, and set us off on this mission.  It was his hope that we would cause the de-population of the Earth, 66 million years ago, leaving it ripe for his taking.”

“My God!” cried Mike.  “And if those Daleks back in…back in that other 1977, if they got us, even one of us, they very well might have succeeded.”

“As I said, time travel paradoxes,” said Harrison.

“Very timey-wimey,” confirmed Twelve.

“Ah, but I’m not finished yet, good Doctor!” said Harrison.  “This goes even further.”

“Yes, you mentioned a win-win for Davros,” said Mike.  “What is the other win?”

“Davros learned enough about the Northern Lights to know that we all connected in the first place because of music.  Not just the three of us, but all of us.  John Williams was on the list.  In 1977 he composes Star Wars.  Mike, would you and Rob Daniels have been friends without that soundtrack?”  Mike shook his head.

“Probably not…” guessed Mike.

“John Williams was the next name on the list.  Number three,” finished Harrison as Mike gasped.  “Davros’ secondary goal was to prevent the Northern Lights from ever forming.”

Mike shook his head.  “I don’t understand.  Why does he care about us?”

“When Davros scoured the universe for information about us, he also learned of Unicron.”

Both Doctors perked their ears in interest.  “I’m not familiar with that name, are you?” asked Four of Twelve.  Number Twelve shook his head in the negative and asked, “Who or what is Unicron?”

Mike explained.  “I tried to tell you earlier.  Unicron is a cosmic entity from another universe.  A planet eater.  He has the powers of a dark god and an army of living robots.  Of course Davros would ally himself with a mechanical being like that.”

Harrison resumed explaining what he learned.  “Unicron offered Davros technology that would have made today’s Daleks look like antiques.  He offered them Cybertronian robotics.  How could Davros refuse the chance to take the Daleks evolution up to the next stage?  All Unicron asked him to do was destroy the Northern Lights.  Us.”

“It seems you’re all a little bit more important than I first assumed,” said the Twelfth Doctor.  “However, you have demonstrated courage, strength, fortitude, creativity and intelligence beyond my meager expectations.”

“Thank you?” said Johnny with a chuckle.

“And that wee beast!”  He pointed right at Ripper.  “That troublemaker, at the center of this whole time loop.  That thing is a viscous creature, so keep an eye on it and keep it well fed!”  He stopped and looked at the group before him.

“The Earth is in good hands,” finished Twelve.  “We may cross paths again.  Then again, we may not.  Your friend, the 80s Metal Man, knows how to contact me.  As for now, we need to get this old brown-coated relic back to Leela and K-9.”  He gestured at Number Four, who raised his hands in mock insult.  “And, we need to get you back to your time.  Davros failed to deliver, to this Unicron, on all counts, so that may be the end of their transactional relationship.  If not…if not, one of us will be in touch.  Just not sure which one of us it will be next time.”  The Twelfth Doctor smiled.  “You have plenty of adventures ahead of you yet.  Good ones.  Righteous ones.  Scary ones!  But remember what I said about being scared.  It’s your super power.  You’ll see.”

Epilogue.

Mike and Harrison sat with Tim Durling, in person this time.  Alone, in his office, with only his assistant Rufus in the room with them, Tim tried to absorb all this new information.

“You know, it was only yesterday that I even learned Doctor Who was real, so this is all rather mind blowing.”

“It’s just ‘The Doctor’,” corrected Mike.

Tim waved his hands. “Too much information.  Give me the bottom line.  Did we succeed?”

“Well, let’s test that theory.  Who replaced Ozzy Osbourne in Black Sabbath in 1977?”

“Oh that’s a good one,” said Tim.  “But easy; David Walker of Savoy Brown and, of course, Fleetwood Mac, who I wrote a book on.  You can buy it on Amazon.  My new book is about Toto.”

“Yes, we know,” Mike nodded in approval.  “Question two:  Who is Angine de Poitrine?”

“One of our favourite new bands.  Those two alien guys with the polka dots.  YOW!” answered Tim.

“And they’ve never been on an Iron Maiden album cover?” asked Mike in a followup question.

“What?  No, that’s absurd.  Why would you say that?” asked Tim.

“Then I can assure you, our mission was a complete success.  The timeline has been restored.”  Harrison and Mike both agreed.

Tim took a big sigh of relief.  “Excellent.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I like to rock, and I’d like to get back to that.”

“Mind if we join you?  I’m a hard rock kid, after all,” said Mike.

“Excellent!” smiled Durling.  “How about some April Wine?”

And with that, the three friends embarked upon a night of great music and even greater relaxation.

The end.

Or not the end.

66,000,000 BC.

The female Purgatorius lay in her comfortable nest.  Mother of all, she was pregnant, and needed her rest.  What she would never know was how important her next generation was to the destiny of the Earth.  The entire future of humankind was locked in her womb, awaiting its inevitable evolution.  She had no conception of this.  Only the instinct to nurture and protect.  At this moment, that was all she knew.

She also would never know who the father was.  It could be her nest mate, the male with whom she shared this forest.  Or, could it be that strange black-coated creature, that she briefly explored that big blue box with?  She would never know.  In time she would forget about that big blue box, Ripper, and their adventure completely.

Timey-wimey.  How about that.

There are things that we’ll never know; never meant to know.  Perhaps it is better to leave these questions unanswered, open, and begging for your imagination to wander with them through time.

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

The Northern Lights: A Doctor in the House Part II

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Nine:  A Doctor in the House Part II

For Part I, click here!

The TARDIS roared as it completed its 66 million year journey back through time!

The Doctor stood proudly, aboard this blue box:  his time machine, and with his companions for this mission.  With him were Northern Lights team members Mike the Brainiac II, Harrison El Moustachio, and Johnny Homework, ready to disembark after an unexpectantly long trip.  Having blown a temporal fuse, the TARDIS accidentally took them 66 million years into the past, instead of to 1977 London as planned.  The layover cost them some hours, but all seemed to be well now.

Harrison looked around.  “Now where is Ripper?  We have to get going.  We can’t stay in the TARDIS.”  Indeed, Harrison’s trusty squirrel companion had not been seen by the crew since Johnny and the Doctor killed some time by having an informal jam session.

The Doctor strode with confidence to the door.  “Come now, off we go te solve your mystery!”  The Northern Lights had come to 1977 London to investigate changes in the timeline centered on that year.  Musicians and artists that should be alive, were dead or missing.  Someone was doing this to change the future, and the Doctor had stepped in to help them.  He opened the door to the TARDIS to find an unexpected scene.

Instead of bustling downtown 1977 London England…was a completely empty marshland, by the side of a flowing river.  The Doctor’s mouth was agape.  He used his sonic screwdriver to scan the scene before him.

“The Thames…” he whispered.  He ran to the control panel while his companions tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Doctor?” asked Harrison.

“We’re in…we’re in 1977.  This is London.  That’s the Thames…” he answered.

That doesn’t look like London, thought Mike, afraid to speak the words aloud.

“Come on.  All of you.  We’re going outside.  We have to find out what transpired here.”  He motioned them to join him.

“What about Ripper?” asked Harrison.

“Safer for the wee creature if he remains inside,” answered the Doctor.  “Come on.”

The three men and one Time Lord stepped outside.  The air was cold, much colder than they were used to.  “Because there’s been no artificial introduction of carbon dioxide to the atmosphere,” mused the Doctor out loud.  “The industrial revolution never happened.  Humanity itself…never happened!”  The Doctor was beginning to look panicked while the others did their best to stay calm.  Inside, they were terrified.  Finally, Johnny spoke.

“What’s going on here Doc?”

The Doctor spun with burning intensity in his eyes.  “Something, or someone, has altered time.  Humanity…has never existed.  This land…is uninhabited by man…but teaming with wildlife, large mammals, megafauna that mankind hunted to extinction!  Humanity has been erased from history!”

“But how?” asked Johnny.

“I…I don’t know!” answered the Doctor, having lost control of the situation and showing it.  Johnny could sense this.

“Doc, I’m…I’m kinda scared,” he said.

The Doctor whipped around again.  “Scared?  Let me tell you about scared.”  He grasped one of Johnny’s hands in his.  “Your heart is beating so hard — I can feel it through your hands!  There’s so much blood and oxygen pumping through your brain, it’s like rocket fuel!  Right now, you could run faster and you could fight harder. You can jump higher than ever in your life.  And you are so alert, it’s like you can slow down time.  What’s wrong with scared?  Scared is a super power!  It’s your super power!  There is danger in this place, and guess what?  It’s you!  Do you feel it?”

Johnny nodded with confidence.  He breathed deep.  “I feel it, Doc.”

“Good,” replied the Doctor, feeling better himself having had the chance to give one of his legendary speeches.  Remarkably, Mike was the most calm this time.  He spoke up.

“Hey Doctor…I’ve watched your adventures on TV enough to know that usually you just start walking around, discover clues, encounter beings, and solve the mystery.  Maybe we should…walk around?”

“That’s…that’s a good idea!” said the Doctor.  He raised his sonic screwdriver, scanned around himself, and pointed.  “That way,” he motioned, and the three joined him as they trekked inland away from the marsh and the Thames.  “This land was an important trade route to the Romans, in our timeline,” explained the Doctor.  They built a bridge here and called it Londinium.  Today’s London Bridge would be right over there.”  The companions marveled in wonder, even as their entire history was erased.

The Doctor thought aloud as they strolled through the mucky ground.  “Who could have done this?  The Daleks?  The Cybermen?  The Master?  The Borg?”  The Doctor’s thoughts were interrupted by a cold, digital voice.

“DOC-TOR!  EXTERMINATE THE DOC-TOR!”

“The Daleks it is,” said the Doctor.  From behind them, swarmed a squadron of eight deadly Daleks.  Their conical shells shone in the English sun, while their domed heads sported weapons and eyestalks pointed directly at the Doctor and his companions.

“Daleks!” shouted the Doctor.  “Get behind me!” he instructed his companions, wielding his sonic screwdriver.  “Hear me Daleks!  What have you done here?”

“DOC-TOR!” exclaimed the lead Dalek.  “WHAT IS IT YOU HAVE DONE?”

“What?” asked the Doctor.

“WE FOUND THIS PLANET UNINHABITED.  IT SHALL BECOME THE NEW DALEK HOMEWORLD.  IT WILL BE NEW SKARO.  YOU DID THIS AND IT CANNOT BE UNDONE NOW.  WE WILL NOT ALLOW IT.”  The Daleks floated forward in threatening motion.  “EXTERMINATE THE DOC-TOR!”

“Wait!  Wait!  Shut up and listen to me!” said the Doctor with both hands making a “stop” motion.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!  This is Earth!  We found it uninhabited but it is supposed be…teaming!  Teaming with humans, with people!  What have you done to the people?”

“THE DOC-TOR TRIES TO FOOL US!” said the lead Dalek.

The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver.  “No tricks!  No deceit!”

“YOU DID THIS!” proclaimed the lead Dalek.  “YOU CANNOT UNDO IT.  EXTERMINATE!”

The Doctor turned to his companions.  “When I say run…RUN!” he ordered.  The companions set afoot, running as fast as they could towards the TARDIS.  A Dalek blasted a shot towards Johnny, who fortuitously slipped in the mud, just as the shot went inches overhead.

“Come on Johnny!” said Mike as he stopped to help him up.  “We gotta run!”  The pair caught up to Harrison and the Doctor, who had reached the TARDIS door.  Everyone with only one heart was breathing heavy, exhausted from adrenaline and overdrive.

“EXTERMINATE!” repeated the Daleks as they fired another volley of shots at the fleeing Doctor and companions.  “THEY MUST NOT ESCAPE!”

“Get in!” ushered the Doctor.  Mike and a muddy Johnny jumped through the doorway, almost colliding with Harrison.  With everyone on board, the Doctor slammed the door shut and ran to the central control panel.  He pulled a lever, and the TARDIS dematerialized into the fog as the Daleks closed in.

“THE DOCTOR HAS ESCAPED…” said the lead Dalek.  “INFORM DAVROS THAT THE DOCTOR HAS ESCAPED…”

The quartet dried off their muddy shoes and boots inside the comfort of the TARDIS.

“Doctor, did the Daleks really erase humanity?” asked Mike of the increasingly angry Doctor.

“You saw them with your own eyes.  They must have.  Oh, they said they didn’t, but Daleks lie!  It is what they do.  It comes from their own, inbred hatred of all things.  Honesty isn’t something they excel at.”

“Doctor, I’ve watched movies too,” said Harrison.  “If humanity was erased, how come we’re still here?”

“You were protected by the TARDIS from any temporal fluctuations that happened.  Wait a minute…which means…which means this happened while we were aboard the TARDIS!  Could it be…”

Mike was connecting the dots along with the Doctor.  “Do you think…do you think we might have caused this?  When we went 66 or 69 million years back in time?”

“It was 66 million years…” said the Doctor as he too began to pick up the pieces.  He snapped his fingers.  “66 million years ago!  Precisely when the first primate, Purgatorius, evolved!”

“So…like a butterfly effect, if we squashed one with the TARDIS?” asked Mike.

“No, no, not possible.  The TARDIS has safety landing measures built into the system to avoid such as catastrophe.  Even with the temporal fuse out, that failsafe is on a designated system,” assured the Doctor.

It was at that exact moment that Ripper the Squirrel emerged from the catacombs of the TARDIS, having tired of exploring every nook and cranny.

“Here Ripper!” smiled Harrison.  “You missed everything!”  Ripper ran towards his best friend…followed by his new friend.

“Umm…” said Johnny.  “How many squirrels did we bring with us on this trip?” he asked.

“Just one…” answered Harrison.

“Then, who’s that?” followed up Johnny, pointing towards tiny, playful Purgatorius Prime.

The Doctor stood up and raised his arms in caution.  “Careful, gentlemen.  No sudden moves.  Stay seated.”  He knelt to the ground and smiled at the small creature.  “Remarkable.  Now how did you get in here?” he asked the creature who stared, not understanding.  The Doctor glanced up towards little Ripper, on Harrison’s shoulder.  “Never mind.  I think I know.”

The Doctor spoke to his companions.  “My friends, I would like you to meet someone very special.  Possibly the most special person…the most special creature in all your planet’s entire history.  I introduce you to your own ancestor.  Gentlemen, meet your great great great to the millionth power great grandmother, Purgatorius.”

Mike’s jaw dropped as it often does.  “Are you saying…”

Johnny continued the thought.  “That this little creature…”

Harrison finished.  “Is the ancestor of all humanity?”

The Doctor smiled.  “Not just that, El Moustachio.  Of every primate that ever lived on this planet.  Every ape, every chimp, every orangutan, and yes, every person.  This very creature.  Of all the creatures, of all the Purgatoriuses that we could have encountered at any point in space and time…and we happen to find the one that survives and goes on to populate the planet with her progeny.  Purgatorius Prime.  Remarkable.”  He shook his head in disbelief, and finally he stood again.

“Well, the solution here is clear!” concluded the Doctor.  “We bring this wee little beast back to the exact point of our departure, 66 million years ago, and bring her home.  Timeline restored, we finally come back to the proper 1977 and get on with our mission!”

“To find out who’s been changing history in 1977 and putting a stop to it!” said Mike.

“That’s right young man!” answered the Doctor, apparently having promoted Mike from “boy” to “young man”.

“Then let’s get prehistoric again!” shouted Mike.

The Doctor smiled.  “Harrison, you mind that wee beast!  She has all humanity in her genes.  Let’s go!”

“Allons-y!” shouted Mike.

The Doctor stared.  “That’s my line.”

“It was your line,” contended Mike.  The Doctor paused.

“Fair.  It’s your line now.”

“Allons-y!” said Mike one more time as the TARDIS departed for 66,000,000 BC

The TARDIS stood in all its blue glory, stark against the green backdrop of the lush, prehistoric cliff.  The air was clean, and there was not a single plane or satellite in the sky.  The Doctor and his companions stood in the doorway of the TARDIS, to release their stowaway back to her home.  Back in the past to restore their future, back on the cliff where this misadventure took its left turn.

“I hope you appreciate this moment, boys,” said the Doctor to Mike, Harrison, Johnny and Ripper.  “We’re restoring time to its proper flow, having saved one of the most important animals of all time.  Purgatorius, the ancestor of all primates.”

A little brown creature, no larger than a squirrel but roughly the same in appearance, scooted out of the TARDIS, back to its home.  It waved goodbye to Ripper the Squirrel, who looked terribly sad to be losing his new friend.  History had to be repaired, and this little creature had an important destiny ahead.  She jumped, and scooted into the leaves.  Out of sight, and safely back home.

The Doctor clapped his hands and spoke to his companions.  “Right!  Again!  Everyone back to your seats, we’re off to the races…again.  Setting year for 1977, London, Oxford street.”  The doctor confidently manipulated his controls, and pulled the levers.  The TARDIS groaned once more, and disappeared in both space and time.

Where the TARDIS stood in the lush green, there was a clear, square depression in the ground.  A T. Rex roared in the distance, while a male Purgatorius nosed its way, sniffing the ground where the TARDIS had been, searching for his mate.  Suddenly, she too appeared from the leaves, searching for him.  Finally reunited, the pair went off into the forest to fulfill their destiny.

To be concluded….

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

 

 

The Northern Lights: A Doctor in the House Part I

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Nine:  A Doctor in the House Part I

“Gentlemen, I’ve called you with the most urgent of missions.  We must act with haste.  The fate of the world is at stake…again.”  Tim Durling, head of the Durling Foundation, was not kidding around this time.

“Again?  Merde, I feel like all we do is save the world!” cried Jex Rambo via video call.

“You can say that again!” agreed Mike, the Brainiac II.

“Merde, I feel like all we do is save the world!” repeated Jex Rambo.

“Easy Jex,” calmed Mr. Durling.  “I haven’t even told you the mission yet.”

On the call were a spate of the Northern Lights’ highest ranking members.  Its leader, Tim Durling, was front and center.  The lines on his face spoke of sleepless nights and stone-cold serious days.  He has clearly been burning the midnight oil.

Surrounding his window were the trusted Northern Lights high command:  the long-haired Harrison Holden, also known as El Moustachio from across the world in Australia.  His ally Ripper the Squirrel must have been scuttling about the floor somewhere, for he was not perched upon Harrison’s shoulder as normal.   Behind him: his beloved portraits of Disney’s Stitch, and Iron Maiden’s Maiden Japan.

From Northern Lights Kincardine HQ were an unlikely quartet, gathered together by their last mission to Georgia via Kincardine habour. Mike, the “Brainiac II” and Specialist Jen were front and center, flanked by Robert Daniels the King of Sharks, and Max the Swinging Axe.  He was, of course, a big deal.  He was hanging around to assist Rob on his next mission: salvaging his ship the HMS Visions In Sound from the bottom of the Atlantic.  He had a priceless soundtracks collection aboard her, fortunately sealed in vaults when the ship went down.

From the UK came the 80s Metal Man (also a Michael), rarely seen on these calls as he was usually quite occupied on his side of the world.  He had a wise, teacher-like appearance.  He wore a suit jacket and tie.

Jex Rambo, shirtless as usual, was coming through from Owen Sound, Ontario.  He was stationed there at Aaron’s Archive, and had set up a mini-gym in the basement, from which he was broadcasting.  Mr. Aaron Books was upstairs in another room, broadcasting from his own office.

The Snowman was in attendance, recently cleared of suspicions that he was a spy on behalf of Unicron the Planet Eater, loud and clear all the way from the Stone Mountains in Georgia.  His internet had just been reconnected, this time with a reliable company and not an affiliate of the Decepticons.

The Nothern Lights newest member, Johnny Homework was there on this his first call.  By his side was his trusty protocol droid R0-GR, calling in from Alabama.  Johnny’s hair has been growing quite luxurious.  Meanwhile, the red-bearded droid R0-GR sat silent in his gold skin – his usually loud voice being necessarily muted for this call.

Only absent from this meeting was Bernard the Knight (who hadn’t even mastered 18th century technology yet, let alone the 21st), and the mysterious Night Ranger.  Supposedly off on a mission.

Supposedly.

“Metal Man, why don’t you take it from here?” motioned Durling.

“Very well,” answered the Metal Man.  “As you know, my jurisdiction is monitoring other planes of reality, such as Rock and Roll Heaven.  I am also charged with temporal affairs.  I have noticed slight changes, and indications that someone has been messing with time.”

“Slight changes?” asked Rob, the King of Sharks.  “Such as?”

“This one is minor, but more are coming.  Tell me, can you remember who Iron Maiden’s mascot is?”

Mike jumped up.  He and Harrison were big fans.  “Of course!  Iron Maiden’s mascots are Khn and Klek de Poitrine, the alien duo!  They’ve been on every album cover since the debut, and their appearance on Powerslave was legendary!”

Harrison pointed at an album hanging on his wall.  “There’s Klek de Poitrine right there on the cover of Maiden Japan.  The classic image of him with his samurai sword.”  Easy question.  What was the Metal Man getting at?

“WRONG!” answered the Metal Man.  “Iron Maiden’s mascot should be a living corpse named Eddie.  Eddie the Head, as illustrated by Derek Riggs.”

“Who?” asked Tim Durling.  “Never heard of him.”

“Exactly!  Derek Riggs has been erased from history!  According to newspapers from the era, he was murdered in 1977 and they never found the killer.  Therefore, he would never paint the Eddie that would become the first Maiden cover.  Angine de Poitrine modeled for a different painter instead.  Now here is another question.  Who replaced Ozzy Osbourne in Black Sabbath in 1977?  Clue – it’s not Dio.”

“I got this one!” said Johnny Homework.  “Rod Evans from Deep Purple.”  Johnny was absolutely certain of the facts regarding this obscure lineup change.  “Rod was only in the band for long enough to do one TV appearance, a rendition of a new song called ‘Junior’s Eyes'”.  Johnny crossed his arms in confidence.

“Wrong again!” answered the Metal Man.  “Ozzy was initially replaced by Dave Walker, of Savoy Brown and Fleetwood Mac.”

“Impossible,” interrupted Durling.  He shook his head to make his point.  “I wrote a book on Fleetwood Mac.  I would know.”

“Yes you would, if someone didn’t change history.  Dave Walker disappeared in 1977, never to be found.  But it should not have been that way.  Dave Walker recorded an early version of ‘Junior’s Eyes’ for television.  Or, he should have if he didn’t disappear.”  Metal Man switched his display to a timeline chart, and continued to speak.  “Gentlemen, someone has gone back in time to 1977 and is changing rock history.  We’ve seen something like this before, so we know we can undo it!  It is your job to go back in time and stop the killer, or killers, from doing this.”

“There’s more,” added Durling.  “Your secondary mission is to find out who is behind this, and why.  However, your primary mission remains your top priority.  Prevent the killings.  Restore history.”  He was firm.

There was a grave understanding on the group call.  Then, the stoic Harrison spoke.  “I suppose I’d better get reading the logs of our original adventures and review how time travel works.  It was complicated,” he sighed.

“Not anymore!” answered the Metal Man.  “Here in England, we have certain contacts that you do not have.  Gentlemen, please meet my newest friend.”  He paused for dramatic effect.

Suddenly, at Northern Lights HQ in Kincardine Ontario, a groaning sound was heard.  A light began to flash in the center of the room of the old cottage.  Mike, Jen, Rob and Max turned and stared as a blue telephone box faded into existence in the middle of the room.  All of this was captured via webcam and broadcast to the others.  The Metal Man smiled smugly behind his camera, while everyone else’s jaws dropped to the floor.

“Putain de merde!” cried Jex.  “I know that telephone box!”

“Technically a police box,” corrected Metal Man.

There was steam in the room, clouding the view of the legendary TARDIS.  With a crack of light, the door opened.  Out stepped a tall, skinny older man with curly white hair atop a long face, aged with wisdom.  Wearing black sunglasses and a red guitar, the older man smiled.  Mike, Jen, Rob and Max all stood and stared at their guest that had suddenly appeared in their living room.  Everyone was dumbstruck.

“Well?” said the older man, breaking the silence in a Scottish accent.  “Aren’t y’going t’say anythin’?”

It was Rob who spoke first.  “It’s you!  The Doctor!”

“The Twelfth Doctor, to be precise!” answered the man, the spitting image of an actor named Peter Capaldi.  But that was surely coincidence.  Only the Snowman seemed to not know who had just arrived.

“Doctor?  Who?” he asked.

“Precisely!” answered the Doctor.

“Woah!” said Max the Axe.  “What’s in the box, Doc?”

The Doctor removed his sunglasses.  He stepped directly in front of Max.  His bulging eyes were framed by eyebrows like old grey caterpillars.

“You want to know what’s in that box? I’ll tell you what’s in that box! It’s a time machine! It also travels in space! And it usually contains a man who just wants to get on with his work of preventing the end of the world — but keeps on getting interrupted by boring little humans!

“Now if you will, I’m a busy man, and I’d like t’get on wit’it.  You!”  He pointed at Mike.  “Get in.  The rest of you, I’ll have him back by supper time.  I’d like a hot tea when I return.  You do have tea here, don’t you?  Of course you do, you’re not savages.  Now, come on!” he gestured.  “Get in!  We have to go pick up your Australian friend.  And, we’re going to need to pick up that guy too.”  He pointed right at Johnny Homework on the screen.  “You sir, with the nice hair.  Suit up!”  Johnny made a “who, me?” gesture, but the Doctor wasn’t wasting time to clarify.

“C’mon, don’t you know you have a world to save?  Are you waitin’ fer a custom invitation?  Pick up your jaws and go!”

“It really is bigger on the inside,” marveled Harrison.  Ripper the Squirrel stood upon his shoulder.  The little fellow just wanted to run and run and run through the infinite catwalks and corridors of this time machine, but he was wary of the grumpy old man in the black coat.  After all, he had never seen an episode of the TV show chronicling the adventures of the legendary Doctor.

“I reckon it’s bigger in here than the stadium in Atlanta where I saw Metallica!” marveled Johnny Homework.

“I’ve dreamed of this place since I was a kid,” said Mike.

The team were in place.  Mike, Harrison, Ripper, and Johnny were the companions of Number Twelve.  The Doctor.  Who?  Just the Doctor.  A Time Lord, from Gallifrey, with a time travelling machine called the TARDIS:  Time and Relative Dimensions in Space.  An actual time machine.  The Doctor was working the controls, but seemed frustrated.

“Blast,” he exclaimed, apparently not aware that he said it aloud.

“Is everything going smooth over there Doc?” asked Johnny.

“Nae bother,” answered the Doctor.  Then he turned and gave them all a big toothy smile.  “How’d you boys like a little detour first?”

“Detour?  I thought you said we had to hurry?” asked Mike.

“Nae, nae,” answered the Doctor.  “I said I was in hurry.  This is a time machine, boy!”

“I’m 54,” answered Mike.

“And I’m 4.5 trillion years old,” said the Doctor.  “Or 1000.  Depends on who y’ask, but that’s not important.  Aaanyway, this is what’s happened.  The TARDIS, y’know, she’s a little eccentric and she blew a temporal fuse.  We’re slightly off course, so we’re goin’ te land somewhere safe until she can regrow the fuse.”

“OK, but where…or when are we?”

The Doctor did that cagey smile again.  “Well that’s the thing isn’t it?  Without the temporal fuse, ye can’t tell time, can ye?”

“I wouldn’t know,” answered Mike.  “I guess you can’t?”

“Of course you can’t my boy!”  The Doctor stepped closer in dramatic fashion, the tails of his black coat falling behind.  His angry Scottish attack eyebrows were shockingly close to the Brainiac’s face.   “So we’re going to do it the old fashioned way.  We open the door and look outside!”

A thud was felt as the TARDIS set down on ground, somewhere and somewhen.  The Doctor smiled in false confidence and sauntered to the time machine door.

Outside, they were on the edge of a cliff over a lush, green valley.  The Doctor grinned and gestured to the door.  “Told you,” he said.  “It’s Earth.  And by the smell and taste, I’d guess we’re somewhere in North America.  First century AD.  Shortly after the birth of Christ.”  He raised his finger in the air.  “Tuesday.”

His analysis was interrupted by a great roar.  A roar unlike anything these men had ever heard before.  A Time Lord though?  The Doctor was well familiar with that roar.  He smiled again, trying to project confidence.

“OK, I’m off by a few million years give or take, but I still say it is a Tuesday.  It tastes like Tuesday.”

“What is that?” cried Johnny Homework.

“That my good boy is a Tyrannosaurus rex, female if I had to guess,” answered the Doctor.

“Close the door!!” yelled Johnny Homework.

“Right,” said the Doctor.  “So, this places us exactly 69 to 66 million years ago.”

“That’s not exact,” said Mike with growing anxiety.  The Doctor ignored him.

“So listen up,” continued the Doctor.  “We just need to to wait a wee bit while the TARDIS regrows the temporal fuse.  Now, you seem like some serious music men.”  His bulging eyes looked the group up and down, one by one.  “Let’s have a jam, if any of you play.  I have some guitars…”

Johnny stood up, “Sure, I could jam, why not?  It’ll relieve the stress.”  The Doctor handed him a jagged guitar, white and black.  It resembled something that Canadian guitar journeyman Sean Kelly would have played.  Johnny admired it a moment.

Harrison sat next to the Doctor for an optimal view.  The Doctor and the Student strapped their axes on.  Then, the Doctor started.  “Key of E,” he said.  “Follow me.”

And so the Doctor and Johnny made beautiful music together, weaving blues chords over light dreamy melodies.  It was quite something to see.  Mike danced like nobody was watching, while Harrison just sat and enjoyed.  A rare smile approached his lips.

Meanwhile, while his shipmates were lost in the music, Ripper took the time to explore the TARDIS.  Of all the crew, Ripper was the only one who did not understand the existential circumstances they were in.  He heard the roar, but didn’t fear it.  He did fear and trust this strange Doctor, and was intensely curious about the green scenery he had seen through the door.  With little trepidation, Ripper decided to explore outside as well as in.

Opening the door a crack, Ripper stepped outside and sniffed the oxygen-rich air.  The sun was brilliant and high in the sky.  The moon was visible too, and larger than he remembered.  Ripper would not understand that in 66 to 69 million years from now, the moon’s orbit would drift slightly further away.  The air here was pristine, like nothing he had ever smelled before.  With tentative steps, Ripper sniffed the ground and explored the perimeter of the TARDIS.  In the distance he spied tall mountains, and even a distant roaring volcano.  There were deep valleys, rolling streams, and not a single human in sight.  It was so strange and wondrous.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ripper spied movement.  A small brown creature approached from the leaves.  It looked like a squirrel, but it was not.  Scientists of the 21st century would call it Purgatorius, the first primate.  Laymen would mistake her for a squirrel or perhaps a chipmunk, but as the first primate, inside her genes lay not just the entire future of mankind but also every ape, chimpanzee and gorilla that ever lived.  In a very real sense, this small creature now frolicking with Ripper was Eve.  Yes, Eve, to every primate yet to be born: Purgatorius Prime.

“Squee squee?” queried Ripper in curiosity.

“Squor-quor!” answered Purgatorius Prime.

Having made friends, the two ran circles around each other in playful chase.  Meanwhile, inside the TARDIS, the sound of a great jam session was reaching its apex of melodic drama.  Johnny Homework dug deep into the fretboard, bending the strings hard, while the Doctor grinned in great approval.  Ripper’s ears perked up.  He didn’t want to miss this!

“Squee squee?” invited Ripper, as he gestured inside the door.

“Squor-quor!” answered Purgatorius in agreement.  The pair ran inside, and the door shut behind them.

Johnny Homework strummed some final chords as the Doctor played an outro lick.  Mike and Harrison cheered in approval.  Ripper and Purgatorius ran into another room, unnoticed by the others, in playful excitement.

“Well done Johnny!” applauded the Doctor, removing his black sunglasses.  “We’ll make a rock star of you yet.  Now!  Let’s check on that temporal fuse.”

The Doctor walked to the center console and looked under.  “Almost half way there,” he shouted from underneath.  “We’ll be underway in an hour…maybe two.”

Harrison stood to stretch.  “Has anyone seen Ripper?” he asked.

“Not recently,” answered Mike.  “He went off to explore the TARDIS.”

“OK, good,” said a reassured Harrison.

“Hey Doctor, I have a question,” said Mike.  “If you don’t mind.  If you’ve been real this whole time, how come you never helped us in the past?  Like when we were battling the forces of Satan, or when I…” he paused.  “When I died.  Or when there are wars?  How come?”

“A fair question my boy,” answered the Doctor as he took a seat.  “And the answer is, who says I didn’t?  And, who says time isn’t unfolding exactly as it always has?”  He smiled as reassuring a smile as he could muster.  “I’m a Time Lord.  I’ve never claimed to be God.  Just a madman, with a box.  I’ve run across the universe and dimensions you cannot even picture in your most vivid of dreams.  One of the trillions of trinkets of wisdom I’ve picked up along the way is this:  Trust people to find their own way.  Humanity is a wreckless, warlike, sometimes filthy race…”  Mike looked shocked a moment, but the Doctor continued.  “…still as individuals, you continue to shine.  And that is why I have chosen Earth as my home, and not Gallifrey.  It’s certainly not the weather.  It’s the people.”  The Doctor laughed aloud.  “Have ye seen the weather in London?  You cannae see where you’re going half the time with the accursed fog six days a week.”

“I get it,” said Mike.  “Free will and all that stuff.  Humanity has lessons to learn, etcetera.”

“More than that,” smiled the Doctor.  “But so long as blood pumps through my two hearts, Earth will remain defended.”

“So we can count on you in our upcoming battle to save Earth from…”

The Doctor waved his hands and cut him off.  He grinned that grin, the prickly one you give when you’ve tired of talking.

“My boy, I think you’ve watched enough movies to know that I can’t tell you about your own future.”

Mike looked dejected, but knew when a line of questioning was at its end.  “Can’t you…can’t you just say something more reassuring?”

It was then that Harrison spoke up with his own particular Australian perspective.  He turned to Mike the Brainiac.  “I understand your pain.  We’ve all lost someone we love.  But, we do it his way.  The future may be ours.”

Mike nodded.  “That’s somewhat familiar for some reason.  OK.  I trust Harrison.  And he trusts you.  If he’s good, then I’m good too.”  Harrison nodded.  He was good.

A panel on the TARDIS beeped and the Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from a pocket.  He pointed it at a display, got a reading he liked, and clapped his hands.

“Right!  Everyone back to your seats, we’re off to the races again.  Setting year for…1977.  London, England.  Oxford street.”  The doctor manipulated his controls and pulled the levers.  The TARDIS groaned and disappeared in both space and time.

Where the TARDIS stood in the lush green, there was a clear, square depression in the ground.  A T. Rex roared in the distance, while a male Purgatorius nosed its way, sniffing the ground where the TARDIS had been, searching for, but not finding, his mate.  Adam had lost his Eve….

To be continued…

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

The Northern Lights & Star Trek: The Next Generation: A Northern Lights Multiverse Adventure [Original 1993 – NO AI]

Earth 1701.

MAD DOG MIKE WILL RETURN IN THE MULTIVERSE SAGA…

Harrison and Mike have always prided ourselves in our “NO AI!” stance when it comes to our art.  (Not just visual of course, but also the written word.)  Much like Queen with their “Nobody played synthesizer,” we have caved – partially – on AI usage in the Northern Lights series.

Harrison and Mike wanted to begin including multiversal variants of ourselves in the Northern Lights based on the concept of us being crew members on one of the Enterprises.  This reminded me that in 1993, I drew a comic of me as a shuttlecraft pilot.  It would fit seamlessly into the Northern Lights multiverse with little alteration – just some changes to the front cover to give it a Northern Lights comic header.  But damn, was it ugly when I scanned it.  Blue ink on lined paper, bleeding through to the other side.

“Could you clean it up and colour it, Harrison?”

“I could but it would take a lot of time.”

“Well, we’re trying to reduce your workload, not increase it.  I hate to say it, but I’m going to ask AI to clean it up and colour it.”

Which is what I did.  I went to…(I can’t believe I’m admitting all this, but I always to my best to be transparent with my work)…I went to Chat GPT and entered this instruction.

“I drew this comic based on Star Trek.  Please clean it up and colour it.”

That sent me down a rabbit hole.  I did not keep track of how many revisions I had to tell it to make in order to get something presentable.  I learned quickly that AI cannot make simple changes to your image without redrawing it completely, and this means something that looked OK on the last revision looks wrong now.  But let’s start with what I got when I told AI to clean it up and colour it in.

I got:  A female me in one panel, constantly changing uniform colours, Geordi’s skin tone being inconsistent from panel to panel, and a continuous lack of understanding of what Geordi’s visor actually was.  AI had multiple visors in most panels, and I had to settle for what I was getting.  In the end, I used Microsoft Paint to cut and past the best renditions into one panel, because AI kept changing my face and making me more conventional.  See image below:

Then we moved onto the cover image, which AI never got right and I had to give up and finish it manually.  I asked it to clean up the cover image, and colour it similarly to the last one.  I also asked it to remember that my character was the same person as the prior image, so it wouldn’t make me female again.  (I was hot.)  The AI got it more or less right, and then I wanted to make selective changes here and there.  Only I couldn’t.  The straw that broke the camel’s back was that AI could not change the title box on the left without changing everything else.  You can see the image below is what I was left with when I gave up.  All I wanted to do was change the title box on the top left!  It cannot do that.  It continually changed the shape of the Enterprise, the face of the alien, and my face as well, going further and further away from my original on every attempt.  A huge fail for AI.  The alien in particular got creepier and more vampire-like on some revisions.

It’s also worth noting that AI took many liberties in cleaning and colouring my image.  It knew to darken the background and make the stars white.  It added more stars, and two planets that I did not ask for.  It removed panel lines that I wanted on the alien’s UFO.  It changed my face quite a bit, and I had to continually tell it to make the face look more like my original sketch.  The text was formatted by the AI to look more like a comic, but I liked it and it wasn’t worth customizing.  I had reached the point where AI couldn’t get closer to what I wanted without ruining everything we had already got.   Diminishing returns.

Then, I went in for a second round of edits, to further hone in on what I wanted.  In the end I finally got close enough for rock and roll.

In a perfect world, I would have preferred to have Harrison clean up and colour the originals manually, but that wasn’t feasible.  To see what AI made, click here.  Thank you for your understanding or scorn, whichever it may be.

Mike 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Northern Lights & Star Trek: The Next Generation: A Northern Lights Multiverse Adventure [AI ENHANCED]

Earth 1701.  [For the original AI-free version of this comic, click here.  For an explanation to “why AI?”, scroll to the bottom]

 

 

 

 

MAD DOG MIKE WILL RETURN IN THE MULTIVERSE SAGA…

Harrison and Mike have always prided ourselves in our “NO AI!” stance when it comes to our art.  (Not just visual of course, but also the written word.)  Much like Queen with their “Nobody played synthesizer,” we have caved – partially – on AI usage in the Northern Lights series.

Harrison and Mike wanted to begin including multiversal variants of ourselves in the Northern Lights based on the concept of us being crew members on one of the Enterprises.  This reminded me that in 1993, I drew a comic of me as a shuttlecraft pilot.  It would fit seamlessly into the Northern Lights multiverse with little alteration – just some changes to the front cover to give it a Northern Lights comic header.  But damn, was it ugly when I scanned it.  Blue ink on lined paper, bleeding through to the other side.

“Could you clean it up and colour it, Harrison?”

“I could but it would take a lot of time.”

“Well, we’re trying to reduce your workload, not increase it.  I hate to say it, but I’m going to ask AI to clean it up and colour it.”

Which is what I did.  I went to…(I can’t believe I’m admitting all this, but I always to my best to be transparent with my work)…I went to Chat GPT and entered this instruction.

“I drew this comic based on Star Trek.  Please clean it up and colour it.”

That sent me down a rabbit hole.  I did not keep track of how many revisions I had to tell it to make in order to get something presentable.  I learned quickly that AI cannot make simple changes to your image without redrawing it completely, and this means something that looked OK on the last revision looks wrong now.  But let’s start with what I got when I told AI to clean it up and colour it in.

I got:  A female me in one panel, constantly changing uniform colours, Geordi’s skin tone being inconsistent from panel to panel, and a continuous lack of understanding of what Geordi’s visor actually was.  AI had multiple visors in most panels, and I had to settle for what I was getting.  In the end, I used Microsoft Paint to cut and past the best renditions into one panel, because AI kept changing my face and making me more conventional.  See image below:

Then we moved onto the cover image, which AI never got right and I had to give up and finish it manually.  I asked it to clean up the cover image, and colour it similarly to the last one.  I also asked it to remember that my character was the same person as the prior image, so it wouldn’t make me female again.  (I was hot.)  The AI got it more or less right, and then I wanted to make selective changes here and there.  Only I couldn’t.  The straw that broke the camel’s back was that AI could not change the title box on the left without changing everything else.  You can see the image below is what I was left with when I gave up.  All I wanted to do was change the title box on the top left!  It cannot do that.  It continually changed the shape of the Enterprise, the face of the alien, and my face as well, going further and further away from my original on every attempt.  A huge fail for AI.  The alien in particular got creepier and more vampire-like on some revisions.

It’s also worth noting that AI took many liberties in cleaning and colouring my image.  It knew to darken the background and make the stars white.  It added more stars, and two planets that I did not ask for.  It removed panel lines that I wanted on the alien’s UFO.  It changed my face quite a bit, and I had to continually tell it to make the face look more like my original sketch.  The text was formatted by the AI to look more like a comic, but I liked it and it wasn’t worth customizing.  I had reached the point where AI couldn’t get closer to what I wanted without ruining everything we had already got.   Diminishing returns.

Then, I went in for a second round of edits, to further hone in on what I wanted.  In the end I finally got close enough for rock and roll.

In a perfect world, I would have preferred to have Harrison clean up and colour the originals manually, but that wasn’t feasible.  In the end, I do feel a weird sense of satisfaction, seeing a close approximation of my 1993 cartoon, coloured and cleaned.  Thank you for your understanding or scorn, whichever it may be.

To see the original, non-AI version of this comic, please click here.

 

Mike 

 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

 

 

 

 

 

Adventures of the Northern Lights: Georgia On My Mind

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Eight: Georgia On My Mind

“There is no way I’m driving to Georgia,” said Mike as he sat at his desk at Northern Lights HQ.  He leaned back in his chair and waited for someone else on the call to speak.  As it turns out, it was Jex Rambo who spoke first.

“Mon ami, you are the one amongst us that knows him the most.  It has to be you!”  Jex had a point there, but he was also missing the point.  Mike was getting testy and frustrated.

“Hello!!  McFly!”  Mike made a mock-knocking motion towards his camera.  “I’m not disputing that!  It’s the driving I’m objecting to!  I’ll go to Georgia, begrudgingly, but I’m not going by road.  You set me up with a jet, a spaceship, I don’t care what it is as long as it gets me there quickly without having to stop for gas.”  Mike stood firm.  “Or charging!” he added, thinking of all the alternatives.

Tim Durling, head of the Durling Foundation, shook his head.  “The world is in a state of chaos right now.  I’m not eager to violate US air space today, even with the stealth jet.”

From his screen in Owen Sound Ontario, where he was currently stationed, Jex raised a hand.  “I have an idea!  Georgia is on the coast – Can we have Mike go by sea?  The King of Sharks has been standing by for weeks, waiting to be sent on a summer mission.”

Durling snapped his fingers.  “That’s a brilliant idea, musclehead!  Alert Rob Daniels.  Tell him to suit up and prepare for a mission.  And Mike, you’ll need backup.  The Snowman’s resources are bottomless, even with his recent and very expensive move to his new location in Georgia.  And…he strikes me as slightly unstable.”

“He’s crazy, sir,” said Mike.  “Let’s not mince words.  The man is nutty as a fruitcake.”

Durling nodded.  “Pick your team.  You have the King of Sharks, and who else?  Pick your third.”

Mike considered for a moment.  As much as he enjoyed working with his sister Dr. K and her army of Schnauzers, the idea of being at sea with a pack of terriers made him queasy.  Harrison, unfortunately, was unavailable on a side quest with Ripper the Squirrel.  Aaron was busy…Jex and the Night Ranger were with Aaron…the list was shortening.

“I’ll take…I’ll take Bernard,” sighed Mike.

“You want to take a guy who wears steel armor over the water?  I don’t think that’s wise,” said Tim.  “Besides he doesn’t carry electronic devices and we can’t reach him very quickly.”

“Fine!” shouted Mike in exasperation.  “We both know there’s only one guy who’s available and on call right now.  I’ll take…I’ll take Max the Axe.”

Durling smiled.  “He’s kind of a big deal.  Jex, make the arrangements.  Get Mike and Max to the coast immediately where they will rendezvous with the King of Sharks.”

“Copy that,” said Jex.  “Over and out.”  Jex disconnected.

Durling turned to Mike.  “Mike, this might be your most dangerous mission yet.  It’s up to you.  Only you can find out if the Snowman has betrayed us.  Godspeed, sir.”  Tim disconnected.

Mike sat alone on the front deck staring at his blank screen.  Snowman could be a traitor, and his backup was Max the Axe.  What a mission.

“Great…” he sighed.

Max the Axe stood ready at Kincardine Harbour.  He waved as the yellow Volkswagen Beetle with the bright red Autobot logo approached.  Max was packing his axe guitar, and a large duffle bag.  The Beetle kicked up dust and came to a stop right by Max’s bag.  The passenger door opened and out stepped mission-ready Mike.

“Thanks for the ride, Dr. K!” he said as he slammed the door shut.  Dr. K drove off, leaving Mike to get re-acquainted with Max the Axe.

“How’s it going man!” said Max, leaning in for a hug.”  “I got two new hips you know!  Titanium!  Like on the Titanic!”

“The Titanic wasn’t make of titanium, Max,” said Mike as he returned the hug.  “Good to see you though.  I can smell that you got the skunk out of your clothes.”

“Yeah!  And I brought you some presents too!” said Max.

“Save the gifts for later, we don’t want to unpack until we’re on board,” instructed Mike.  He looked around.  The harbour was busy today, with tourist boats and fishing vessels, but no sign of Rob Daniels, King of the Sharks.  “Do you have any idea what we’re waiting for?” he asked.

“Nope,” said Max.  “Durling just said to wait here, and Daniels would pick us up.”

The pair waited a while.  It was a beautiful day and Mike regretted that he had to leave.  But duty called.  The lake was a stunning vibrant blue.  Gulls circled overhead.  A kid was flying a red kite, which dove and sailed in the sky above.  Max was sweating under his heavy head of hair.

“I’m gonna go for a quick swim,” announced Max.  He took off his black T-shirt and shoes as he made his way towards the sparkling water.  Testing his new hips, he slowly and cautiously stepped.

“Great,” sighed Mike again.  “My backup, who is recovering from hip surgery, has decided to go for a swim.  This is gonna go great.”  Max was now in the water, splashing and waving.  “At least he’s having a good time,” said Mike.

“Hey ladies,” shouted Max to a nearby gaggle of splashing girls.  “I’m kind of a big deal!” he finished, but had none of their attention.  Suddenly though, a large wave began to form several meters out at sea.

“SHARK!  SHARK!” yelled Max as he and his titanium hips quickly made their way out of the water.  This time the girls listened, as the wave grew larger and closer.

“Ah, this must be our ride,” said Mike as he picked up his belongings.  “C’Mon Max!  Shirt up – our ride is here!”

Indeed, the Brainiac was right, for heading towards the beach was a sleek, shiny black mechanical shark!  It was the size of a decent submarine.  It could only belong to the King of Sharks himself, Robert Daniels.  As the mechanical shark beached, its mouth opened to form an egress.  In the gaping maw stood Rob, in his full battle gear with trident at hand.

“All aboard!” shouted Rob.  Max was toweling off, but Mike wasn’t waiting for him.  Running up the bottom jaw, which was now a ramp, Mike hugged his old friend.

“Good to see you again Rob,” said Mike with a pat on the back.  “This is going to be a fun trip.”

Rob shook Max’s hand as he boarded.  “Hi Max, welcome aboard the HMS Visions In Sound, my ship.”  He turned his attention back to Mike.  “Is it going to be a fun trip?  My orders were to take you to the Snowman’s new headquarters in Georgia, and investigate him as the possible leak in the Northern Lights.”

Suddenly Max’s eyes opened wide in attention.  “Leak?  This shark has a leak?”

Mike shook his head.  “No, Max.  We think Snowman is the guy who has been leaking our intel.  We’re going to find out.”

Max nodded in understanding, Rob had questions.

“How come we don’t just feed Snowman some bogus intelligence?  Then we’ll know if he’s the leak for sure.”

“Not necessarily, Rob.  We think the enemy got the info they were after when they attacked me at summer HQ, and have ceased operations.  Also, of all of us, I have known Snowman the longest and I felt that I should deal with this personally, this time.”  Mike was serious.  He had known the man called John Snow for 15 years.  He didn’t relish this meeting, but it had to happen.

“Well, if we’re all aboard now, I’ll show you to your guest quarters and we can get underway,” said Rob.

“Aye-aye, Captain!” said Max with a salute.  He quickly sauntered off to look at Rob’s impressive soundtrack library, adorning the walls inside the shark.

“Don’t touch the soundtracks with wet hands!” asked Rob.  “And don’t play the pipe organ either!”  Indeed, towards the front cabin was a mighty, massive pipe organ.

“Impressive!” said Mike, nodding in approval.  “Most impressive!  Batten down the hatches and make for the ocean!”

Cruising at an impressive speed, Rob’s shark, the HMS Visions In Sound, made its way through the Great Lakes locks, into the St. Lawrence River and out to sea.  When there were storms, it simply sailed beneath the tempests.  Thus far it had been an uneventful, though scenic, trip.  Captain Rob chose a route that allowed them to observe several remarkable shipwrecks.  He played a number of soundtracks from his personal collection.  Meanwhile, Max had somehow managed to get permission to play the pipe organ, which he did – quite well, in fact.  It was, all things considered, quite a pleasant mission so far!

The calm was broken by a flashing light.

“What’s that?” asked Mike, pointing.

“Proximity light,” answered the Captain.  “That means we’re approaching American waters.”

“Already?  Wow…” said Mike, amazed at how quickly they made it to Georgia.  “After we land in Savannah, we’ll need to make our way to the Stone Mountains, three hours from Atlanta.  They’re actually made of granite! Mr. Durling should have some local transportation pre-arranged for us.”

Rob sat a moment and pondered a question.  “Are you saying we’re going to be on American soil, illegally?”

Mike answered with confidence.  “Oh sure, but we’ve done that for virtually every US mission so far!  We have to stay under their radar.  I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, but it is imperative that US government agents don’t know we are here.”

“And if something goes wrong and we’re arrested?” asked Rob with concern.

“It won’t come to that,” assured Mike.

“Unless John Snow is the traitor?” pressed Rob.

“…Yeah, unless John Snow is the traitor and turns us in.  But he won’t.  I have…a feeling…about it.  I’ve been getting premonitions recently.  We will be OK.  And if Snowman does call the fuzz on us, Durling assures me he has an extraction plan.”

“Well I don’t share your optimism,” revealed Rob.

“Trust the Force!” said Mike.  “Also, doesn’t the King of the Sharks have any kind of diplomatic immunity?”

“The ‘King’ title is more of an honorific, bestowed upon me by the sharks themselves.  I have their loyalty, and they have mine.  But on land?  I’m as vulnerable as you are, and subject to law.”

“It’ll be OK,” shushed Mike.

An alarm sounded.

“What’s that now?” asked Mike.

Rob checked his coordinates and confirmed.  “We are now in American coastal waters.  Full stealth mode is active.”

“A stealth shark.  Who would have imagined?” said Mike.  “Hey Maxie!  Lay off the organ.  It’s mission time.”

Max the Axe hit a few final notes.  A new masterpiece.  He tied his hair up in a ponytail.  Not exactly navy regulation, but nobody was going by the book on this mission.

Rob began giving orders.  “Max, I want you on sonar.”  He pointed towards a console.  “Mike, I need you at battle stations.”

“Cool!” said Mike.  “What is this thing armed with?  Torpedoes?”

“That and more,” answered Captain Rob.  “My greatest advantage is an ocean full of sharks.  They’re violent creatures, but effective.”

Max and Mike familiarized themselves with their stations and Rob took the shark up a few hundred feet.  A school of curious jellyfish trailed them harmlessly.  It was beautiful under the sea.

“Hey look!  It’s James Cameron!” said Mike, pointing out a porthole.  “Just kidding.”

“Hah-hah,” deadpanned Rob, while Max tried to find James Cameron on his sonar.

“Found him!!” cried Max in victory, looking in deep concentration at his sonar.

“Wait…found who, Max?” queried the Captain.

“Mike said James Cameron.  That must be him on my radar,” answered Max, pointing.

Rob ran over to the sonar station and looked.  “That’s not James Cameron!  That’s a Colossal Squid!”

“Dangerous?” asked Mike with concern.

“Unknown,” answered Rob truthfully.  “These creatures are so rare that they’re almost never seen, and only fleetingly.  We’re about to get a close-up.”  Rob paused a moment.  “Yet we’re not deep enough to be in its natural habitat.”

“It’s following us!” theorized Max.

“I can’t rule that out…” said Rob with great concern.

“It’s gaining on us!” said Max as he checked his sonar again.

“Rob, if you summon a school of sharks, they can take that thing down,” suggested Mike.

“I’d prefer a non-lethal solution!  This is a rare, endangered species.  We have to avoid harming it.”  Rob considered his options while Mike stood ready at the weapons bay should they be needed.

“Mike, fire a blast of compressed air straight aft!” commanded the Captain.

“Aye aye, Cap” said Mike as he locked and loaded.  “Fire!”

From the rear of their craft, a large bubble of compressed air shot straight and true.  The squid swam straight into it, but quickly recovered and resumed pursuit.

“Squid still behind us Cap!” said Max on sonar.  “Further behind, but speeding up again!”

“He thinks we’re food!” shouted Mike.

Rob snapped his fingers.  “Who said it’s a he?  It could be a female, protecting its young!”

“Can we use that to our advantage?” asked Mike.

“Let’s try it.  Launch the probe!  Send it directly behind us, retracing our course!  If we disturbed this squid’s territory, we might be able to scare it into returning to protect its eggs.  Turn on all its tracking lights and let it loose!”

Mike found the controls and settings.  With the press of a button, he launched the probe directly aft.  With speed, it sailed directly behind the squid, and into the cold black depths.  The squid turned a moment and stopped.  And then, just as hoped, it turned to pursue the probe!  Max confirmed all this via his sonar console.

“High five!” cried Max.  “Your plan worked, Cap’n!”

“Well, let’s not congratulate anyone yet,” cautioned Rob.  “The sea gives as easily as it takes away.  Without bias, at its whim.”

“Woah…” said Max in contemplation.

“Alright, stations on alert.  Keep your eyes open people!  On course for Savannah, Georgia!” commanded Rob.

They travelled silently beneath the waters for several minutes without incident, when suddenly Max spotted something on sonar.

“Uhhh, guys, our friend is back,” he warned.  “And I think she’s mad.”

Indeed, the same blip had returned, and it was moving faster than ever.  Mike ran to a rear porthole to see if he could catch a view.

“Oh shit…” said Mike.  He could see blazing lights following behind.  The lights of their probe.  “That thing got our probe and she’s right behind us again.”

The squid discarded the broken probe, pushed out a cloud of ink, and accelerated.

“Captain with respect, I think we need that lethal option,” said Mike to Rob.

“Not yet!” cautioned Rob.  “We’re not out of tricks.  Stand by.  Max, how many meters?

Max studied his console.  “It says she’s only 35 meters behind us!  No…33…no…32.”

“Mike, stand by to electrify!” ordered the Captain.

“I know where you’re going with this, I’ve seen 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea too!” answered Mike.  “Standing by!”  He held his hand over the switch.

Moments later, the sub shuddered as the squid grasped it!  They came to a lurking halt!  The hull groaned.

“ACTIVATE!” shouted Rob.  Mike hit the switch and the interior lights went out!  Red emergency lights came on as the hull electrified!  The squid, caught by surprise, ejected a cloud of ink and released the sub.

A light flashed on a panel.  Rob leaped from his seat and looked with alarm.  “We leaking in the aft quarter!  I’m sealing those sections off and attempting to pump out the water!”  Rob furiously worked the control panel.  “Mike, take the helm!”

Mike jumped from the weapons console and took the center seat.  Electricity returned to the bridge, and every control panel began screaming.

“Uhh, Rob,” said Mike with urgency.  “Looks like we’re descending fast!  I’m trying to pull up, but the control surfaces aren’t responding!  I think that squid did more damage than we realized.”

“Max, what’s our location?” asked the Captain.

“Uhhh…about two clicks from shore…” answered the Axe.

Rob considered his options.  “Control surfaces are barely working…OK, Mike, keep her nose up.  I’m changing into my diving suit.  Once I am changed, then I’ll take over the controls, and you change.  Max, get into your diving suit.  We’re disembarking.”

“Copy that!” said Max.

Five minutes later, the trio had suited up.  Rob led the way to the airlock, and opened the outer hatch.  One by one, the three swam out of the shark sub.  From there, they could see the damage.  The rear was crushed.  Air bubbled out from numerous panels.  The HMS Visions In Sound was going down.  Rob saluted the good ship as it cruised, empty, towards the bottom.

“My axe guitar…” lamented Max.  “What now?” he asked.  “We swim?”

Rob snickered in his diving mask.  “Swim?  No.  We ride!”

The three divers noticed another trio swiftly approaching.  Three hammerhead sharks!  With some trepidation, Mike and Max each mounted a shark.  Rob was in total control of the majestic beasts.  To them, the hammerheads gently nuzzled them in a friendly manner.  It was remarkable.

“If only Jacques Cousteau could see this!” exclaimed Max.

“You’re right, Max!” said Rob.  “Now just hold on and let the sharks do the swimming!”

“Wooooo hoo!” shouted Mike as the trio shot off in the water.

It was a scene as if from an Avatar movie.  The three riders held steady on their undersea mounts.  In what seemed like mere minutes, they were in sight of the shore.

“Stay under the water,” instructed Mike.  “We can’t be spotted.  Find a secluded location for us to land.”

“I see a small cove ahead,” said Rob, who today truly was the King of Sharks.  “Wait a sec…what’s that?”

“I see it too.  What is that?” answered Mike.

The three slowed their approach as they spotted something very strange on the seafloor ahead.

“Is that…that’s an undersea internet cable, isn’t it?” asked Mike.

Rob, using the HUD (Heads Up Display) in his helmet, examined the anomaly before them.  “It looks like an undersea data cable,” said Rob.  “But it’s unregistered on any records.  It’s not supposed to be there.”

“Don’t worry about it then,” said Max.  “Let’s keep going.”

“Wait a minute…not yet.  This cable starts here in Savannah.”  Mike was thinking.  “Rob, can you send some sharks to follow this cable and see where it ends?”  Mike could see it bent and went south.

“Easily!” answered the King of Sharks.  In moments, a squad of great whites arrived for their instructions.  Then, they bore due south, following the undersea cables the men had discovered.

“Why are we wasting time on this?” asked Max impatiently.  “I want to be back on land.”

“Just a hunch,” answered Mike.  “I’ve been having a lot of hunches lately and they’re usually right.  Rob, how long before we hear back from the sharks?”

“Several hours at least,” answered Rob.

“OK.  Let’s press ahead.  Let’s follow this cable to land, if we can.”  Mike pointed the way forward, and the three rode their hammerheads towards shore.

Only a few meters from the shoreline, the undersea cable disappeared under rocks.  Presumably, it continued underground from there.

“Damn,” said a frustrated Mike.  “Any ideas?”

Rob spoke up.  “Yes, I think we resume our primary mission, which is contacting the Snowman.  Call Mr. Durling, and tell him to send a car with some dry clothes.  Let’s get ashore, out of these suits and get to the Stone Mountains.”

“Good plan, Captain,” said Max.

The three stood at a roadside.  A black limousine pulled up to take them to their destination.  Now in clean clothes, and playing the soundtrack to James Cameron’s The Abyss in the background, they enjoyed a brief respite before resuming their mission.  Rested and refreshed, they were all in better moods.

Before long, they had arrived at the Stone Mountains.  Snowman owned the whole nature preserve.  He had really done well here.  The land was beautiful.

“This is it,” knocked Mike on the limo driver’s window.  “This is Snowman’s address.  His lair, so to speak.”

The three disembarked the limo and looked at a driveway that seemingly led into a mountainside.  A callbox was installed on the cliff face.  Mike shrugged and walked over.  Pushing the button on the callbox, he spoke.

“Hello?  This is Mike, Max the Axe, and Rob Daniels.  We’re friends of the Snowman and we wanted to check out his new place.”

Immediately, a giant opening appeared in the mountain face!  Large enough to drive several vehicles through.

“After you,” said Max.  Mike led the trio into the mountain.  The door closed behind them.  The interior was spacious, well lit and made entirely of granite.

Rob looked around.  “I dunno Mike…this is like the supervillain’s lair in a Bond film.”

“Well, he’s eccentric,” shrugged Mike.  There were at least a dozen supercars here.  “This must be his garage…look, he even has the KISS Plymouth Prowler.”  Indeed, Snowman had an immaculate KISS Prowler, with trailer, just sitting there in this mountain.

As if on cue, the Snowman appeared from an elevator.  “GENTLEMEN!  So good to see you!  Come in!  Have some sweet tea and Simmons Soda with me!”  Then, Snowman ran to Mike and gave him a big hug.  “Old friend, always good to see you!”

“A version of me, at least!” said Mike.  Come here man…give me a bigger hug.”  The two embraced.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being back,” said Snowman.  “A couple of years ago I watched you die in my arms.  You never quite get over watching one of your friends die.”

“It’s all good Snowman, I’m here just like old times.   As if it never happened!” said Mike, who was a multiversal variant of himself known colloquially as ‘Brainiac II’.  “Trust me, I know.  In my universe, of all of us, I was the only survivor.  Until Harrison arrived and brought me here.  I know loss better than anyone.  But enough of that.  How was your move to Georgia?”

“It was awful!  I had to sell the Super Duper Vault,” said a saddened John.  “Not one transportation company was willing to ship it here into the mountains.  So I sold it.  There was only one buyer dumb enough to pay.  Scott Ian.  From Anthrax.”

“Makes sense,” said Mike.

Snowman showed them to the elevator.  He hit a button, and they were on their way up to the penthouse on the 100th floor.

“This place is amazing,” said Max in wonder.

“It sure is John.  How much did you pay for this place?” asked Rob.

“A lot more than Scott Ian paid for the Super Duper Vault,” answered John.  “Let’s just say that I’ll still be paying for it long after I’m dead!”

The penthouse was beautiful.  It was a room atop a mountain, with open spaces and a stream running through.  It was a stunning sight.  In the center of an open space was a table with four servings of sweet tea.

“This is familiar,” said Mike.

The four sat and enjoyed the breeze.

“So what really brings you here?” asked Snowman.  “This is a long way to come for a casual housewarming visit.”

Rob began to speak, but Mike interrupted with a question of his own.

“Just curious John…who installed your internet here?  It must have been quite a challenge to get service in the Stone Mountain like this.  Solid granite!”

John grumbled a bit.  “Oh, that was a pain!  This new company came to install the internet.  They were called Prime Nemesis Internet Service.

Mike was startled.  “What?  Prime Nemesis?”

“Something like that.  Nemesis Prime, maybe.  Anyway, they were jerks!  They sent two robots to install it.  Not even humans!  Two guys named Mr. Rumble and Mr. Frenzy or something stupid.   Total jerks.  I asked to speak to their boss!  They claimed their boss’ name was Mr. Soundwave.  Can you believe that?  And then after they installed the internet, everything started running super slow!”  I do not recommend Prime Nemesis Internet.  I think they went bankrupt, because I can’t contact them anymore.”

“Can you show us what they installed, John?” asked Mike.

“Step into the elevator, friends!” said John.

They then went 101 floors down into the basement.  Stepping out, Mike, Rob and Max spotted something familiar.

“Look!!  The cable!” shouted Max.

“Does that look familiar, Rob?” asked Mike.

“Sure does,” answered the King of Sharks.  “That’s the exact same cable that we followed undersea.  Identical.”

“I had a hunch…” said Mike.  “Snowman, you’ve been hacked!  The Decepticons are stealing your data.  If you had read the Marvel comics I sent you, you would have known who Rumble and Frenzy and Soundwave were!”  Mike growled in frustration.  “However, the good news is this:  Snowman isn’t the leak.  Or, at least he wasn’t knowingly.  You’re cleared, Snowman.”

“Cleared?  I was suspected of something?” screamed the Snowman.

“Don’t worry about it,” assured Mike.  However, you’re going to have to do without internet until you can get a reliable company to install it.  Rob – cut the line.”

Rob Daniels pulled a large knife from his belt, and cut the internet cable.

“Aww,” said the Snowman in sadness.  “I was bidding on a KISS pinball machine on Ebay.”

“There will be other machines.  Sorry John.  This is for all our safety.”

With mission accomplished, the four finished their tea.  Snowman took them on a tour of his new home.  It was enormous.  The entire tour took three days.

Rob, Mike, and Max the Axe gathered at Northern Lights HQ.  Jen was there, monitoring outer space as always, and meanwhile the three friends gathered at a table.

“Well,” began Rob.  “The great white sharks have followed the cable south to its final destination.  And you won’t believe where it led.”

“I bet I can,” said Mike.  “Florida.  Mar-A-Lago Florida.”

“Bingo,” answered Rob.  “So we know they’re in cahoots.  The Decepticons are working with Mar-A-Lago.”

Mike felt like the walls were closing in.  Like his worst fears were being realized in real time.  He gulped.

“OK.  Inform Mr. Durling.  We are at war with the Decepticons, and we need reinforcements.”

The words chilled everyone in the room.  The impending threat could be felt palpably in the air.  There was no turning back.  The war was well underway and there was no stopping it now.

Mike grimaced.  “Things are about to get bumpy,” he warned.  “Let’s get some rest.  We’re going to need it.  We’re going to take the fight to them now.”

Epilogue

The grey and purple shuttle orbited Earth, undetected by primitive human technology.  It did detect the termination of one of its data streams.  The one that ran from the human settlement in what they called “Florida” to their plant within the “Northern Lights” resistance group.

“Alert Soundwave,” said the robot in the pilot seat of the shuttle.  “The humans have interfered with our operation on Earth.  Ensure it doesn’t happen again.  Out.”

The pilot, in the darkness of the cockpit with no inner lighting activated, grumbled in a subsonic tone.

“Unicron would not be pleased.  So he won’t find out.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

 

 

 

 

 

 

Adventures of the Northern Lights: Jex Feels It Again

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Seven: Jex Feels It Again

Jex Rambo was on high alert.

The last few days were a flash!  One moment he was finishing up paperwork for Mr. Durling and the Durling Foundation, and the next he was on a plane with the mysterious Night Ranger on his way to Ontario.  There were some very important documents kept at Aaron’s Archive in Owen Sound.  Jex and the Ranger were assigned to protect the Archive.  Much to his shock and disbelief, their friends Mike and Harrison had recently been attacked by a Transformer.  An actual alien robot disguised as a truck.  Anything goes now, thought Jex.  What was fiction is real, and he could not rest.

And so he patrolled, outside, keeping a close eye on every vehicle, person and animal he spotted.  Shirtless, of course, Jex Rambo didn’t even break a sweat in the hot sun.  The consummate professional.

He reached to his belt and pulled out his radio.

“Rambo to Ranger, Rambo to Ranger, come in Night Ranger,” he spoke.  “Over.”

“Night Ranger here,” replied the mysterious figure.  “On the roof.”

Jex looked up and shaded his eyes from the bright mid-day sun.  A figure in black could be seen, crouching, watching.

“Got you in my sights,” confirmed Jex.  “You got this area covered mon ami.  I’m going to widen my patrol.  Will report back.  Jex out.”

While he missed the ocean, Owen Sound wasn’t so bad.  There was water, and the people were friendly.  Not to mention, he got to hang out with Aaron again.  In theory!  Aaron was currently with his family at a hockey game.  The Owen Sound Attack.  Not as great as the Moncton Wildcats, but not bad, thought Jex.  He hoped his friend was having a good time.  Meanwhile, it was his job to make sure the Archive was secure.  It was a modest house in the outskirts of town, but the Durling Foundation had spared no expense with a top-notch security system.  Not to mention, the best security that money could buy:  Jex and the Night Ranger themselves!

Jex’s radio crackled again.  “Jex Rambo here,” he spoke.

“Hey, it’s me again,” said the voice on the other end:  the Night Ranger.  “Listen, I hate to bug you, but since you’re out there…”

Jex shrugged.  The Ranger had a habit of sending him out on errands while he sat on the roof.  “Yeah…” sighed Jex.

“It’s no big deal if you can’t, but I was browsing Discogs and you won’t believe it.  There is a local seller here in town with a Japanese picture sleeve promo copy of ‘Don’t Tell Me You Love Me’ and Mr. Durling would really like to have it.  Since it’s right here in town, you understand.”

“Yeah…” sighed Jex again.  “Give me the address.  I’ll go pick it up.”

Jex was seated in the vehicle that the Durling Foundation had sent them for local travel.  As was his penchant lately, Durling was using cars designed after original Generation One Autobots.  And so, he found himself behind the wheel of a yellow Lamborghini with a huge silver exposed engine in the back.  “Sunstreaker” was what Durling had called it.  Jex was driving in the least inconspicuous vehicle in all of Ontario right now.  At least it was a sweet ride.  Stopped at a traffic light, a gaggle of girls swooned at his manly visage in the yellow supercar.  He raised his sunglasses, winked and gunned the engine.  Yeah, this wasn’t a bad ride at all.

He glanced again at the GPS.  “Ray” was the contact, and the location was only a few more lights away.  It was a popular bar called The Big Prize.  According to a Google search, their karaoke contest every Friday night always drew a crowd.

“Maybe I’ll stay and have some wings,” thought Jex.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had a good half-pound of chicken wings.  “Night Ranger always sending me out on these errands for Durling.  You never see him going out.  ‘Oh I can’t show my face.’  What an excuse.  Just a reason to make Jex do all his work!  I’m going to get hot wings.”

There it was just ahead:  The Big Prize Karaoke Bar and Grill.  Looked alright.  It was midday and so there was ample parking.  He pulled the yellow beast into a perfect spot right in front of the entrance.  Stepping out and shirtless, Jex easily drew the attention of passers-by.

“Sorry ladies, I’m here on business!” he chided as he cooly crossed the sidewalk to the entrance of the bar.  One fainted, but was caught by her friend.  Jex didn’t notice, however, because he soon found himself thwarted in his mission.  By a sign.

“NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO ENTRY” it said in big, bold yellow text.

“Merde!!” stomped Jex.  “Foiled by a stupid yellow sign!”

Jex had to park the Lambo way back in the Walmart parking lot.  Durling would be furious if he got a scratch or a ding.  But, he needed a shirt.  Walmart would have a cheap T-shirt he could throw on, surely.

He strolled up to the big entrance, now starting to sweat a bit in the afternoon sun.  The doors swooshed open and he strode into a blast of cold air.

“O, ça fait du bien!!” he exclaimed as the Walmart air conditioning bathed his skin.  “That feels so good.”

He smiled and walked through the gate, only to be halted by a little old lady in a red vest.

“I’m sorry sir, you can’t come in without a shirt!”  She tapped a yellow sign with a marker in her hand. Jex pulled his sunglasses down his nose to take a closer look.  “Qu’est-ce que c’est??” The sign read SHIRTS AND SHOES MUST BE WORN IN THIS ESTANBLISHMENT.

“Merde again!!” swore Jex.  He swiftly felt bad for it.  “Oh, sorry lady, pardon my French.  It’s just that I need a shirt!”

“Oui, you do!!” she returned to him in a sarcastic tone.  “Don’t make me tap the sign again.”

“Touché ,” said Jex.  Just then, a kid entered and walked up to Jex.  He poked him in the arm.

“Hey mister!” he said with excitement.  “Is that your car out there?”

“It sure is!” smiled Jex.  “Hey wait.  Kid – you wanna make a little extra money today?”  He handed the kid two twenties.  “Go in and buy me a T-shirt, large size.  Bring it back to me and you can keep the change.”

“Sure thing mister!!”

The kid ran into the store.  Jex smiled at the lady, and waited.

And waited.  He tapped his toes to the muzak.  Waited some more.

10 minutes.  Now 20.

“I don’t think he’s coming back,” said the lady.

“Sacré bleu!” stomped Jex again.  “Hey…lady…would you mind?  I really need a shirt, as you know, and you can keep the change.  Please…help a guy out?”  He pleaded.

The lady, smirked.  She pretended to think about it a moment, and then said “Gimme $50 and I’ll go get you a T-shirt.”

Jex winced, but pulled two more twenties and a ten from his wallet.  “Merci madame, merci.”  And you’re welcome, he thought to himself.

The lady took his money and grinned.  Five minutes later she was back with a Walmart shopping there.

“Thank you for shopping at Walmart, your receipt is in the bag, have a nice day sir,” she said, handing him the plastic bag.

“Merci,” Jex repeated, and ran back to the Lambo.  He opened the bag and pulled out a shirt.  A white T-shirt with Barney the dinosaur on it.  The receipt fell out of the bag, onto the ground.  Jex bent over and picked it up.

“Sacré bleu again!!”  He read it aloud:  “SALE – FIVE DOLLARS!?”  It didn’t take a calculator to do the math.  He was down $85 because of a $5 T-shirt!  He drove the Lambo up to the entrance, squealed the tires, and flipped the old lady the bird.  Her mouth fell agape in shock, but Jex didn’t feel badly this time.

“I’ve had about enough of this day,” said Jex to himself.  The cool air blasted his face inside the Lambo.  “Well, at least all I have to do now is pick up the record.”

Once more, he parked the yellow Lambo in front of The Big Prize Karaoke Bar and Grill.  He stepped out and grimaced as he slipped on his brand new Barney the Dinosaur T-shirt.  It fit, but…wow.  This time, a flock of girls laughed as he entered the bar.

“Haha, yeah, it’s a funny shirt,” he waved.  “I’m wearing it ironically of course.”  They giggled some more.

A server greeted him at the front desk, but tried not to stare at his shirt.  “Hello and welcome to the Big Prize!  Can I get you a table?  Karaoke room is popular today.”

“Actually, I’m a bit late…long story…but I was supposed to meet a guy named Ray here.  Is he still here?” asked Jex.

“Oh!  Ray the owner?  Yes he’s right over there, in the karaoke room.”  She pointed to a man in the adjoining room.  He was slender, with sunglasses, and a shaved head.

“Oh he’s the owner!  Merci!” said Jex, “Can I order some hot wings too?” he asked.

“I’ll put the order in now!” she replied.  Ray noticed them from his seat, and made a signal to someone.  Then he motioned for Jex to come to his table.

Jex removed his sunglasses and smiled with hand extended, as he approached Ray the owner.  Ray stood, and removed his glasses.  He did not look happy.  Jex could see that.

“I’m really sorry that I’m late, long story,” said Jex in way of apology.  But Ray wasn’t hearing any of it.  He looked Jex straight in the eye.

“I don’t know Tim Durling…but you?  I never forget a face…mister…Rouselle?”

Jex gasped.

“Ray Coburn…” he whispered.

It all came back in a flash.  It was years ago, but it did happen.  A viral video.  Jex mocking the song “Feel It Again” by Honeymoon Suite… especially making fun the of keyboards.  A song Ray Coburn wrote.  Ray Coburn, the keyboard player for Honeymoon Suite.  Coburn called him out online.   Jex issued a second video in way of apology, but it failed to take.  “It wasn’t your keyboards, man!  It’s the fact that there were keyboards in the first place!” pleaded Jex in the video, not ingratiating himself to Ray in any way.

Ray smiled at him coldly.  “Please…have a seat.”  He motioned to the chair across from him.  “I am well chuffed to finally meet you in person.  What a surprise!”  He grinned wide and clapped his hands together.   Jex sat awkwardly, as a lone bead of sweat worked its way down the left side of his face.

“Comfortable?” asked Coburn.

Jex squirmed in his chair a bit, trying to get settled.  “Yes…thank you.  Ummm, Mr. Coburn, I am truly sorry….”

Ray interrupted.  “And I thought my day couldn’t get any better!  I just booked a fall tour playing keyboards for Larry Gowan.  And now the famed music critic Jex Russell walks through my door!  What are the odds?”

Jen cleared his throat.  “Yeah, about that, I truly do apologize…”

Coburn shushed him.  “Oh, I know you do, especially now that you need something from me.  Durling already sent the funds.  The Night Ranger 7″ promo.  My friend Harry Hess…you know, from Harem Scarem?  Another band you criticized.  Harry brought this back from one of his Japanese tours.  He gave me a whole box of records in fact.  When Mr. Durling offered to buy it, he didn’t mention that he was sending you of all people to pick it up!  A bonus, so to speak.  Icing on the cake.  A treat for me, to finally meet the great music critic in person!  The honour is mine.”

Every word dripped with sarcasm.  Jex was extremely uncomfortable.  The server brought him his hot wings, but sensing the tension at the table, said nothing besides “enjoy”.  She made a swift exit, and left Ray and Jex alone.

“Have a chicken wing,” instructed Coburn.  “When I heard your order, I asked the chef to make them extra special just for you.”

“Oh…yay…” said Jex as he looked at the plate beneath him.  The wings steamed on the plate, and the capsaicin in the sauce fumes burned the sensitive skin inside his nose, as he inhaled.  He coughed.  Ray smiled.  Jex looked him in the eye as he steeled his face.  He grasped a drumstick with both hands and raised it to his mouth.  He bit and pulled half the meat off in one bite.  Before the heat could hit his tongue, he took a second bite, finishing the rest of the meat and skin.  He dropped the naked bone onto his plate, and returned his gaze to Ray.  He coughed.  He coughed some more.  He was choking and there was no water on the table!  Ray smiled.  Jex’s fingers were covered in sauce.  Wiping them on Barney the Dinosaur’s stomach, he made a drinking motion, asking for water.  Ray signaled the waitress, who brought a glass filled with water and ice.  Jex grabbed it with desperation and gulped every last drop of cold liquid.  The relief was temporary as the burning returned.  Jex was sweating from his scalp, and tears were forming in his eyes.

“Sacré…bleu!” he croaked.

“Spicy, right?” chided Ray.  “That’s Pepper X extract, my personal stash.  2,693,000 Scoville heat units.  I’ll let you Google how hot that is when you gain control of your face again!” he chuckled.

That face was red and leaking fluid from every orifice except his ears.  Jex thought he knew what pain was.  He sucked back an ice cube from his water glass.

“Listen, Mr. Coburn, truly you’ve made your point and I’m sorry!” he coughed.  “What does it take for me to prove that?”

Ray smiled.  He had been waiting for Jex to ask that very question.

“You’re going to get up there on the karaoke stage, and sing ‘Feel It Again’.”

“Merde,” said Jex.  He still had sauce on some of his fingers, but most of it was on his shirt.  “Yeah, OK.”

“Great!” said Ray.  “Send everyone in!”

“What??” exclaimed Jex.  Soon, the whole kitchen staff, all the servers, and a large number of guests had gathered in the room.  Ray got up on the karaoke stage.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and patrons of all ages!  We have a treat for you this afternoon at The Big Prize karaoke room!  We have an online celebrity with us.  The great music critic, Jex Rambo!  He is a big Honeymoon Suite fan, and he is going to sing ‘Feel It Again’, which I wrote.  Jex…come on down.”

Jex smiled sheepishly and waved at the crowd as they clapped modestly.  He had to blink through the tears still forcing their way out of his eyes.  The hot chicken wing sauce continued to burn his throat, but he had already drank all the water.  He stepped up, glanced at the lyric monitor, and gripped the microphone.  He focused.  No little pepper sauce was going to stop him from completing his mission.  This stupid errand, that the Night Ranger didn’t want to do himself!  Well, he didn’t need the Night Ranger to save him.  He held the microphone to his mouth and glared at Ray.

“Let’s do this,” he said with steel in his eyes.

The song started.  Derry Grehan’s opening guitar licks were backed by Ray’s…wonderfully dominant keyboards.

“If you would just be sensible, you’d find me indispensable,” coughed Jex.

“I pray deep down in destiny, that places you with me, Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”  OK, that line went better.  Jex got more comfortable as he sang each line.  Too many keyboards!  But he powered his way into the chorus.

“Waiting so long…to feel it again!  I thought that this heart would never mend!  TO FEEL IT AGAIN!  I KNOW, IT IS THE LIVING END!” Jex threw in some dance moves as he began to own the stage.  He sensed the crowd’s reaction.  Then, during Derry’s brilliant guitar solo, Jex went full on!  Moonwalking across the stage, Jex had the audience going nuts!  Someone tossed a bra up on stage, and Jex knew he’d finally got the job in hand.  His confidence restored, he tore off the Barney shirt and threw it back.  A lady fainted.  He flexed and finished the song.
“To feel it again…feel it again!  I thought that this heart would never mend.  To feel it again, I know it is the livin’ end!”  And with a flourish, he was done.  The room erupted into applause.

“Thank you!” bowed Jex.  “Thank you downtown Owen Sound, the pleasure was all yours!” he shouted as he leaped off the stage.

He made his way back to the table.  Ray handed him some napkins for his saucy hands, and the vinyl record.  After Jex had sufficiently cleaned the sauce off his fingers, Ray extended a hand.  Jex grasped it and shook.

“Well done Mr. Rambo.  The wings are on the house.  You’re welcome back here any time.  Tell Durling to enjoy the record,” said Ray.

“I will Mr. Coburn, and thank you.  You can finish the wings!  By the way, you were great when I saw you with Kim Mitchell,” replied Jex.

Coburn nodded in appreciation, and Jex headed back to the exit.  And then he realized, he had in fact been inside without a shirt.  Small triumph, but still a triumph.

Another girl fainted as Jex stepped into the yellow Lambo.  He winked as he burned rubber down the Owen Sound road.

“Not a bad day after all,” said Jex to himself.  “Mission accomplished, back to base and a big, cold glass of milk!”

The Lambo was soon out of sight, and quiet returned to the town.  Adventure would wait for another day.  The Night Ranger would have to be on duty tonight.  Jex had other plans.  “Racing after midnight,” he smiled.  Gripping the wheel, he revved the Lamborghini off into the sunset, into the Ontario countryside.

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

 

Adventures of the Northern Lights: TRANSFORMATIONS

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Six:  TRANSFORMATIONS

When I first got here, to this new universe of mine, I couldn’t tell the difference at first.  Everything was the same.  My home.  My belongings.  My Jen.  Everything seemed reassuringly the same at first.  Comforting.  Like I have never lost anything.  Like it was all just a horrible nightmare.

But there are small differences.  Mint tastes slightly different in this universe.  More earthy.  The grass seems a slightly deeper shade of green here.  Maple syrup is sweeter.  Interestingly, all the differences seem to be plant-based.  Chew on that.

It has been pretty easy to adjust to my…return.  They consider it a return here.  They treat me exactly as the original Mike.  It feels odd, but I’m slowly getting used to it.  In time I think I’ll forget I’m from a completely different universe.  One that didn’t fare as well as this one.  Aside from the taste of my pancakes and a few other minor differences, there’s no place like home, and this is home.

The winter passed quickly, quietly.  A completely uneventful season.  Now the air is warm, and the sky has returned from its previous grey to a bright glowing blue.  I walk alone, down the familiar path to the beach.  Northern Lights Summer HQ is very much occupied.  Jen is busy collating data.  She loves working with numbers, and her experience in space quickly forced her to become an expert in astronomical data.  Harrison was around too, though today he’s off on a “side-quest” as he puts it.  He brought Ripper the Squirrel with him, and so it is a little less hectic today.  Summer HQ, located on the shores of Lake Huron near Kincardine, Ontario, is the perfect location to scan the sky for threats.  The lack of pollution (both light and the regular kind) made for clear images.  The only anomaly presently is the complete lack of any anomalies.

I can feel the wind on my skin as I pass through the trees, into the grasslands before the beach.  With nothing to stand in its way, the wind scoured the beach.  Storm coming.  Back at headquarters, the trees made the wind unnoticeable.  They protect the cottage from the sandblasting power of the winds today.  No flying my drone, that’s for sure!  Not today.  Funny how the trees protect the inland from the wind.

“Just like us,” I found myself saying aloud to nobody.  “The Northern Lights protect the people of Earth from…everything out there.”

I look up.  The moon was visible in the sky, brightly lit and nearly full on this clear day.  As I approached the beach I could see wave after wave hammering the piles of rocks peaking through the water.  The power of air and water.  Powered by the moon.  Remarkable.

The moon.  Jen and her team had cleared the moon of any alien interlopers.  It was clean.  I read the mission reports.

Then why did the moon always make me feel so…uneasy?  I wasn’t so sure that the aliens were gone.

I shook back to reality a moment, and grounded myself.  Stretching my arms out, I felt the air.  The wind rushing through my fingers and rippling my shirt.  “There’s no place like home…” I uttered.

As I centered myself, I allowed my mind to admit it consciously:  I was anxious.  And it wasn’t that this place didn’t feel like home.  It felt like there was a threat, just waiting for us at the door.  Just out of reach.  Just out of the range of our sensors, and senses.  Close…yet far.  It felt good to finally acknowledge this.  I am certain now.  My instincts have guided me all my life.  They speak to me now, clearly as the day itself.  Something is there, just out of reach.   It can see us, but we can’t see it.  Not yet, anyway.  Not yet.  Close, yet far.

Feeling accomplished, I run back up the path to the cottage.  I admired the car as I passed, another one on loan from the Durling Foundation.  Mr. Durling always had a penchant for Transformers, and was collecting a fleet of cars modeled after the full Generation One line.  In the driveway was a vintage Porsche 935 decoed up as original Autobot Jazz, famously voiced by Scatman Crothers.  It even had an Autobot logo.

“Sweet,” I smiled.  I stepped up onto the deck, into the front door.  Jen was hard at work in the kitchen.

The kitchen, of course, is where she set up her space surveillance gear.  It had the best lighting and the most table space for the four laptops she had set up.  There she worked diligently, scanning for anomalies as she has been all spring.

“Hey sweety,” she smiled as I walked in the door.  As usual, she had the TV on one of the “hard rock” channels.  They always played the same damn songs.  I preferred listening to my own music collection, but she likes the TV.  It would be nice if they could play some different songs every once in a while.  Always the same hits, by Faster Pussycat, Bon Jovi, Guns N’ Roses, Aerosmith and…wait a second.

Who said that I wasn’t right?I’ve lived for years without a life,Don’t have a soul on my side,Still ridiculed despite how hard that I have tried.

“What’s this song sweety?”  I asked.  I know this song.

“Not sure,” she said as she went to reheat her coffee.  “It’ll say who at the end.”

I didn’t need to wait to the end.  Just the chorus.

Close yet far,Drop me a line and tell me how the hell you are.

“I know this song!  It’s ‘Close Yet Far’ by CKY, Jess Margera’s band.  I bet I haven’t heard this song in like 20 years,” I mused out loud.  “I probably put it on one of your mix CDs when we were dating.  I did stuff like that for the ladies to make them thing I was still cool.”

“You are still cool,” dismissed Jen.

Close yet far,Drop me a line and tell me how the hell you are.

Waitaminute.  “Close Yet Far”.

“Something is there, just out of reach.  Close, yet far,” I whispered to myself, repeating myself from the beach.  The universe was speaking to me now.  I was sure of it.  I seemed to be attuned to this new universe in ways that others here are not.  “Close Yet Far”.

“Did you say something?” Jen asked as her coffee finished warming up.

“Yeah…no…yes…” I muttered.  “No time to explain.  Call Harrison, wherever he is.  I need him here, now.  And…I need to send you away.  Something is coming.  I am not going to let you come into any danger so I need you home.  You’ll be safe there.  But you have to go, now.  Something’s coming, imminently.”  I spoke quickly.  On the edge of panic, but not quite.

“Are you sure?” asked Jen as she dumped her hot coffee down the sink.  “I have scanned every wavelength and used every satellite to scan the sky, the ground and the water.  I haven’t seen anything that should make me leave.”

“I know…but something about this is…elusive…invisible to our scans.  It’s more than a feeling, I know something is coming, and it is close.  I need to you leave right away.  It can’t wait.  Don’t pack – you’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“OK I trust you,” said Jen.  “But I have to call Harrison first, you said to call Harrison.”

“Yes, call Harrison,” I affirmed.  “Then, I want you to take the escape pod.  It’s the fastest and safest way out of here and it’s programmed to take you home.”

“I love you,” said Jen.

“More,” I winked.

“Hello?  Hello?” answered Harrison as his phone rang sporadically.  Shaking it to no avail, he hung up, with no signal.  “Dear me, I have the worst phone reception in this building.  Spotty Canadian cell towers too mind you.  Now what were you saying sir?”

“It’s $5.00 for the minifig head, $10 for the trans-clear-blue windscreen, and 50 cents each for the little boomerang pieces.”

“Highway robbery!” exclaimed Harrison.  He considered trying a Jedi mind trick, but his hands were full of phones that kept ringing, with no-one on the other end.

“I have an honourable compromise…” tried Harrison, but the man cut him off.

“18 bucks, take it or leave it,” said the Lego dealer, firmly.

Frustrated, Harrison put the phones away into his many-pockets jacket pockets, and reached into his pants pockets.  He removed his wallet – a leather folded wallet with a moustache emblazoned upon its front side.

“Pay the man,” he requested.  A black squirrel suddenly darted out of one of his jacket pockets, which grasped the bills in Harrison’s hand.  Then the wee beast jumped off his arm and onto the counter of the quite startled Lego salesman.  Ripper the squirrel dropped the bills and swiftly ran back up Harrison’s arm.  Perching on his shoulder, he awaited Harrison’s next words.

“Highway robbery, I tell you!” scolded Harrison as he turned to leave.  He sighed.  “Just walk away,” he told himself out loud, shaking his head.  “None are here without sin.”  The shopkeeper stared, mouth agape, as the Australian walked out of his store with a squirrel on his back.

Out in the bright Canadian sun, finally Harrison’s phones acquired signal.  He chose one to answer.  “Hello?  Hello?”

Ripper stared in silent concern as Harrison’s brow furrowed.  With his hands full, Harrison was unable to brush his hair out of his face from the wind.  Ripper ran atop his head to assist.

“I understand,” nodded Harrison.  “I’ll be there within the hour.  Moustachio out.”

He pocketed his phone and urgently ran to his beige off-road 4×4 vehicle.  It was the spitting image of Autobot Outback, complete with logo.  The pun of the lord of the wasteland driving a vehicle based on the word “outback” was too much for him to turn down, despite his preference to drive his V8 Interceptor.  Undeniably though, that car drew a lot of attention here in rural Canada compared to a beige SUV.

He has learned over the last year to trust his friends’ instincts.

I walk alone back at the cottage.  The wind was now rustling the trees.  The sky had become overcast.  Jen had checked in safe from home two minutes ago.  No sign of Harrison yet.  Thunder in the distance.  Only a matter of time before lightning appears.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I muttered.  “Time to go check on Dr. K.”

My “sister”, Dr. K.  She was slowly getting used to the new me.  I was no longer unwelcome at her place.  I took a quick jog over to her cabin.  I stepped onto her new porch.  She preferred not to formally join the Northern Lights.  Northern Lights-adjacent was more her style.  Independent, but willing to work together.  In her driveway was a yellow Volkswagon with a red Autobot logo.  Durling had loaned her Bumblebee.

“Man, Mr. Durling’s really collecting them fast,” I remarked as I knocked.  The sound of about ten different dogs greeted me.  The door opened and Dr. K appeared, holding a new dog.

“Hello!  She said, “This is Lord Alfred!”  She held the poor frightened animal up and I patted its cute head.

“Well hello Alfie!” I answered in a baby-talk voice.  “How you today?”

“He’s anxious,” answered Dr. K.  “I think you’re right.  Something’s coming and it’s not just a storm.  All my dogs are anxious.”  They all yipped in agreement with her.  “BABIES!  Calm down!” she scolded them.  Sometimes she forgot that her animal army were ferocious killers.  But for them to be scared, at a time like this?  This was alarming.

“I hear you, Alfie,” I comforted.  Returning my focus to Dr. K I tried to speak over the sound of the wind.

“Here’s what’s happening,” I shouted.  “Harrison’s on his way.  He’s in Outback.”

“Which one is Outback again?” asked Dr. K.

“The beige ‘jeep'”!  I responded.  She shook her head in confusion, not really knowing any of the second-tier Autobots.  “It doesn’t matter, he’s on his way and won’t be long now.  I have an idea though.  Do you have your bass clarinet here?”

“Of course!” she answered.  “I had a recording session this afternoon, before the storm ruined that chance!”

“OK, good!”  I responded.  “Question two.  Can you summon portals to the multiverse with it?”

Dr. K grinned.  “Sort of.  I can access the Schnauzerverse.  From there I can travel to the rest of the multiverse, but not many people can survive the natural wildlife of the Schnauzerverse!  I think I know where you’re going with this!  If you’re anything like my ‘real’ brother, you’d want to send whatever is coming far away!  If something bad is coming, then I can send him off to the Schnauzerverse!”

I snapped my fingers.  “Brilliant!  Hold tight, keep the dogs at bay!”  The sky cracked with thunder.   “Harrison’s gotta be on his way, we just gotta give him more time!”

Ripper sat anxiously on the headrest of the passenger seat inside the Outback car.  The rain was pounding the windshield, making it hard for Harrison to see.  This limited the speed at which he could travel.

“Squee squee!” cried Ripper as the rain worsened.

“I know, my friend,” calmed Harrison.  “I’m doing my best here under difficult circumstances!”  He applied the brakes as he slowed, coming down an incline.  “Have you heard from the Brainiac?  Does he know yet what we are facing?  Is it connected to this storm?”

Ripped shrugged.  How should he know?  He was just a squirrel.  But he knew what to do.  He pushed the numbers he memorized and called the Brainiac.

“Harrison!” said a distorted Brainiac over the speakerphone.  “Good to hear from you!  What’s your ETA?”

Ripper listened carefully.  His squirrel senses have been on high alert.

“Hard to say!” answered the moustached man.  “The storm is getting worse!  Is this connected to your imminent threat?”

“No!” came the response.  “Jen looked at this in detail before she left – she’s safe by the way.  This storm has been forecast for over a week.  The only connection we can fathom is someone using it against us for tactical advantage!”

Ripper looked back at Harrison for his reaction.

“I actually find that reassuring,” he answered.  “I’d rather an an enemy that uses a storm as a tactical advantage, than one who can summon a storm at will.”

“Good point!” came the Brainiac’s response.  “I’ll let you get back to driving, safe travels!”

With that Ripper disconnected the call, feeling somewhat more confident that they were going to survive this.

At Northern Lights HQ, the sky had darkened to an angry blue-black.  I watch the tempest roll in safely from inside the plate glass windows.  Thanks to an atomic generator provided by the Durling Foundation, the power remained on.  The first Jurassic Park film is running on one of the movie channels.  Any neighbours, save Dr. K, had vacated hours ago.  Only I remain, and I remain vigilant.

“Where are you, Harrison?  Something wicked this way comes.” I whispered to myself as I grow concerned.  It wasn’t like the Australian to be late, or to stop sending updates.  “He was not even that far away.”

A crack of lightning hit nearby.  My eyes are temporarily blinded by the flash.  And suddenly…I am surrounded.

“Oh no…not you guys again…”

I am surrounded by five aliens.  The little grey kind.  I know from my reading that my predecessor had dealt with these guys before.  They were one of the many possibilities that Harrison and I had anticipated.  I lower myself into a power stance, ready to launch myself at the intruders.  My legs are springs…steel springs.  Fast as a leopard.

“Hello boys,” I wink.

“Seize the human!” shouts the lead alien, who has a marking on his head, differentiating him from the rest.  A rank, perhaps?

I was prepared for this.  When the storm hit and the generator kicked in, I grabbed some night vision goggles in case I needed an advantage in the dark.  I smile as I drop them onto my face and kill the power with a remote stuffed in my front pocket.

“Peek-a-boo!” I shout as I nailed the lead alien right in the head with a swift kick.  He flies back and falls over a table.  His head makes an awful sound when it hit the varnished hardwood.  He’s not getting back up.

Two more aliens grab my neck from behind.  Their long, slender fingers are cold.  “Cold blooded…that’s interesting…” I say out loud as I try to pry their fingers off.  One jumps onto my back as he choked harder.  I feel myself getting lightheaded…going….

“Give us the schematics!  We know you have them!” whispers the alien on my back in a slippery voice.  It’s so unnerving, feeling its breath on my deck and its voice to so close to my ear.  Every hair on my body is as if raised by static.  Even so, as my skin crawls, I begin to laugh.  My guffaws startle them.  I reach back and pull the two aliens’ arms free of my neck.  I turn, and push both away from me.  Breathing again, I feel a surge of energy!   I mock the four surviving aliens as I see them regroup in front of me.

“The schematics!?” I laugh.  “Of Unicron, you mean!  Sure!  The magazine is right over there, on the scanner bed.  Take it!”

The aliens stare at me puzzled a moment.  “What is this trick?” says one, second from the right, in a lower voice than the others.

“No trick!”  I assure them.  “Take it!”  I raise my hands in mock surrender.  “Take it now, and you can leave this place in peace.  Or, you can join your friend on the floor over there as we go for round two?”

The low-voiced alien, who seems to have taken command for his fallen comrade, motions to the alien on the far left to get the magazine with the crucial Unicron blueprints inside.  Cautiously, the left alien waddles over to the scanner where the magazine is seated.  He picks it up slowly and examines it with his huge, almond-shaped alien eyes.  The eyes grow suddenly wider.  “This is the document we were sent to retrieve!”

“I have a question,” I query with hand araised.  “How did you know we had that?”  There are only a handful of people on Earth who know we had those schematics and why they were important.  I grow concerned.  Harrison has long suspected that there was a mole in the Northern Lights.  But who?

This time the aliens laugh…a strange, unnerving sound, like grasshoppers rasping in the sand.  The low-voiced one raises a device to his mouth and speaks some alien words.  Suddenly there is a flash of light and they were gone.  Even the dead one had been beamed up.  Now, the room has a strong smell of ozone.  Reaching into my pocket, I turn the power back on.  The lights flicker back to life.  I take a shallow breath, and feel around my neck, still sore from their alien grip.  I cough, and finally I laugh.  I laugh with all my lungs.

“What a bunch of dumb-asses!” I cry with tears now forming in my eyes from the hilarity.  “We took electron-scans of every page of that magazine and uploaded it to the cloud!  Those blueprints are on a thousand servers now!  There’s no way to delete them now.  We just finished scanning too…good thing Harrison pushed us to finish the project.  I’ll have to apologize for calling him a slave driver.”

 

Harrison, meanwhile, was in a heap of trouble all his own.  Though his Outback car had a solid grip on the rainy ground, he spotted headlights behind him, closing in.

“Ripper…I don’t like the way that vehicle is gaining on us.  Not in this storm.  Launch a probe.”

Ripper the squirrel nodded in acknowledgement and hit a button.  Outback’s roof cannon emerged from a slot in the vehicle’s top.  Ripper used his paws to control its angle from a tiny touchscreen, and launched.  From the cannon came a rocket-powered probe no larger than a tennis ball.  With several 8K cameras aboard its tiny fuselage, the probe was a disposable device once it finished its flight, but would transmit all the images direct to Ripper’s screen.  The squirrel watched as the probe sailed closer to the eerie headlights following them.  Though it flew over its target in a fraction of a second, it captured dozens of images as it did.

“SQUEE!” exclaimed Ripper.

“I can’t look at them now Ripper, I have to keep my eyes on the road.  Tell me what you see.”

Ripper made many excited sounds and gestures, and Harrison nodded in understanding.  He had spent months learning Squirellese.  He and Ripper could communicate as easily as you or I.

“An armored black truck with a Decepticon logo, well that’s not alarming at all,” said Harrison with a rare use of sarcasm.  He glanced into his rear view mirror.  “It’s almost on us.  I can’t go any faster, Ripper, or we’ll fly off the road!”

Ripper squee’d some more.

“I don’t know what they want Ripper.  Contact Mike at HQ.  Inform Lord Brainiac that we have company.”

Ripper went back to his control panel and worked the screen, but let out a frustrated “SQUEE!”

“Jammed?  Communications are jammed?  Oh, not good.”  Harrison grimaced as he took a curve in the highway at a speed far exceeding anything considered survivable.   He smiled a moment at the idea of the upcoming meeting between Autobot and Decepticon.  He frowned again when he realized that he was hopelessly outmatched.

“We have only one course of action Ripper,” he said in a calm voice.  “We can’t beat Scourge, and we can’t ungun him, so we have to lose him.  Kill the exterior lights.  Hold on tight.”

The squirrel grabbed onto the door handle and prayed a little prayer to Squirrel God.

The tires screamed in unholy pain as Harrison hung a hard right.  The vehicle streaked across the blacktop sideways as it struggled to regain control.  Suddenly the tires bit asphalt again, and Outbook lurched down the side road.  Soon Harrison was traveling at top speed once more, having at least put some distance between them and their pursuer.

“Even if we don’t lose him, he won’t be able to corner like we can, and we can gain back some ground.”  Ripper nodded in understanding.  “Are we still jammed?  Contact Mike!”

Back at HQ, I continued to worry about Harrison’s lack of communication.  Something stinks like a rat.  A traitor.

I was awaiting a callback from Mr. Durling, currently at the Durling Foundation on the east coast.  When I attempted to call, an assistant who claimed his name was “Rufus” wouldn’t put me through.  Said Mr. Durling was in a high stakes negotiation for a Night Ranger Dawn Patrol 8-track cartridge.  I killed time by cleaning up alien splooge.  Fun fact:  when you knock an alien out against a table, they excrete an unpleasant slime like a hagfish.  It has been a fun evening.

Suddenly the video phone lights up!.  It is Durling.  He is smiling.  He must have won the tape.  By his side is Shirtless Jex Rambo, the Jexciter, doing a flex.

“Jex!  Mr. Durling!  Good to see you guys!  It went well?”

Durling’s grinning.  “Let’s just say I had to bring Jex along to guard the massive amount cash we needed to acquire the tape.  Cash only.  No e-transfer.  Guy was a bit eccentric, but you have to be a little bit if you’re in this hobby.  What’s up?”

“I have news and none of it is good,” I begin.  Jex drops the smiling flexing schtick and speaks.

“Oh no mon ami, what happened?”

I catch them up on everything.  The storm, the alien attack, what they were after, and my suspicions.  Durling and Jex are two of the only people in the world who knew about the schematics.

“This is most concerning,” says Durling in a serious tone.  You could never imagine he just bought Dawn Patrol on 8-track by his face.  “Jex – as head of security, how many people know about those diagrams?”

Jex takes a moment to count on his fingers.  “Onze – eleven.  Those who discovered it – Mike, Harrison, Jen, Dr. K, Max the Axe, and the little squirrel.  You and I.  Then we shared it with a limited number of original Northern Lights members on a need-to-know basis.  These were Aaron and the Snowman.  We decided they were the only ones who needed to know.  Mr. Books, being our book archivist, was responsible for buying up every other copy on eBay as you recall.  Snowman was informed as part of our partnership deal.  As his financial contributions to the Northern Lights constitute 33% of our budget, he has access to all our secure data.”

There is a silence, and then I speak.  “OK, so right off the bat you can scratch Harrison and I off that list.  And obviously Ripper too.  I hope you trust us that much.  I can vouch for Dr. K.  She wants nothing more than her revenge, and she remains aligned with us.  I can’t see that changing.  Aaron is as solid and trustworthy as anyone.  I can vouch for him.  Max the Axe though…he’s…well he’s kind of a big deal, and…”

Tim cuts me off abruptly.  “Can you get Max in on this call, Jex?”

Jex laughs.  “I can try.  Who knows where that guy is though at any given time!”  Jex hits some buttons and tries to connect us to Max.  Suddenly a new window opens on my screen.  It was Max.  Max the Swingin’ Axe.

“Hello?  Tim?  You buying some tapes today?”

“Hi Max, no.  Listen, do you remember that magazine with the Unicron schematics that we got from you?  Starlog, July 1986?” asks Tim.

“I got lots of those!” says Max happily.  “Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“No, no,” continues Tim patiently.  “You sold us one.  The July 1986 Transformers Movie special.  Did you tell anyone else about that?”

“Yeah, I told you about it, remember?” says Max.  “And then you bought it from me.  It was after I got sprayed by that skunk.  I had to buy new clothes.”

Jex, getting impatient, interrupts.  “Max, mon ami, nobody else knows you sold us that magazine?  Focus, buddy.”

Max takes a moment to think.  I can see the concentration in his beady eyes as he squints in concentration.  “No, Jex.  Why would I?  I’m kind of a big deal and I have big stuff going on.  Hey Tim, you got any reel to reel players that work?”

“We might, I’ll have Rufus  check our warehouse,” says Durling.  “Thanks Max.  And I must stress to you – tell no one.  Don’t even tell anyone about this conversation.”

“What conversation?” asks Max.

“Good man!” said Tim as he disconnects Max.  Turning his attention back to Jex and myself, he looks grim.  “Gentlemen, what are the chances that Snowman has turned on us?”

The words hit heavy.  The Snowman was a founding member.  The eccentric Kiss fan had been an adversary in the past, but was a cornerstone of our team.  The Northern Lights had always counted on the Snowman.

“The Snowman is moving,” I inform the team.  “He sold his big houses and moved to Georgia.  Different state, different taxes.  He’s basically out of contact for now.  Snowman’s spending 12 hours a day packing up Kiss memorabilia and the other 12 sleeping.  It took him 13 days to pack up his Gene Simmons Super Duper Vault alone.  Consider him out of touch.”

“Well that’s no good,” says Durling.  “It’s like herding cats here.  Regardless, even if you lost your original copy, Aaron has archived every other known copy on earth, and we have detailed scans on multiple servers.”

“Mes amis,” says Jex, “Allow me to go to Aaron’s Archive to protect him.  If any more aliens come for the magazines, he will need my help.”

“Yes, yes,” nods Tim.  “And take the Night Ranger with you.”

“Very good,” I say.  “I’m going to try and contact Harrison again.  Over and out.”

The rain was coming down harder, but Ripper had finally acquired a signal.  A weak signal, but he was connected!  “Squee!  Squee!” he exclaimed.

“Great!  Put him on speakers!” ordered Harrison as he concentrated on the road.  It was Mike.

“Harrison!  Ripper!  You guys OK?  What’s happening?” asked Mike over the phone.

“We had to take a minor detour,” demured Harrison.  “We’re being pursued by Decepticon forces.”

“Oh great!” said Mike with exasperated sarcasm.  “And I just got attacked by aliens looking for that Starlog magazine with the Unicron blueprints.  And, there’s more…”

With great concern, Mike filled the pair in on their suspicions about the Snowman and everything that has transpired.

“Well, I know you and I didn’t say anything to anybody, and I agree with your character assessments of Dr. K and Aaron,” said Harrison.  “I find it hard to believe that the Snowman could have turned traitor,” he continued.  “He has been by our side since some of our earliest adventures.  He has been generous with his support financially and technologically.  What could be his motive?”

“This is going to sound weird,” said Mike.  “I had a dream the other night that Snowman was captured by Decepticons and they put a cerebro-shell into his brain.  Could be just a dream, but I’m starting to think that there are no coincidences.”

“We can’t use that as legitimate evidence,” dismissed Harrison.  “A dream might only be a reflection of something else that happened elsewhere in the vast multiverse.  Listen, I’d love to chat, but I’m in the middle of a deadly car chase in a rainstorm.”

“Acknowledged,” responded Mike.  “I’m getting Jazz and Dr. K.  She can summon a portal to banish your Decepticon to the Schnauzerverse.”

“Good plan,” said Harrison.  “Over and out.”

“Are you sure about this?  Trusting our fate to an Australian that I hardly know?” asks Dr. K as she buckles in.

“That’s a bit of hyperbole, isn’t it?  I’m driving, I’m the one you’re trusting your fate to.  I’m just going to drive Jazz here, to home in on Harrison’s location.  There…tracking on.”

“The Queen of Schnauzers wouldn’t approve,” protests Dr. K.

“Well the Queen of Schnauzers trusts me.  You should too,” I proclaim.  I have no idea who the Queen of Schnauzers is.

“Well I don’t approve…” I hear her grumble.

“Listen.  Don’t worry.  I have lots of experience driving in storms!” I say in the most reassuring voice I can muster.  I turn the key, and the Porsche 935 roars to life like a demon.  I’ve driven in lots of storms…but, driving a Porsche 935 in a storm…that I’d never done before.

“Can you at least put some good music on?” complains Dr. K.  I had Priest on previously.  She hates Priest.

“Of course!”  I select Glass Tiger.  “Don’t Forget Me When I’m Gone”.  Probably the weirdest choice ever for an upcoming battle, but I like absurd contrast.  “Let’s go!  Allons-y!”

Once we hit the open highway, I open up the throttle.  “Woah, this thing really moves!  Check the console – tell me how far out we are.”

Dr. K check the screen and frowned.  “He’s 15 minutes away…but moving further.  He’s going in the wrong direction.”

“He’s trying to lose that Decepticon.  We have to catch him!” I exclaim as I try to keep from panicking.

Don’t forget me when I’m gone
My heart would break
I have loved you for so long
It’s all I can take

Glass Tiger’s Alan Frew sings the melody with pop perfection, as I drive straight into possible death.  Perfect!

Outback raced down the gravel backroad, pelted by stones.  The beige finish was dented and dinged by numerous pebble projectiles, as Harrison took it as fast as he could without losing control.  The truck behind, seemingly immune to the flying rocks, continued to gain ground.  A large stone hit the windshield, cracking it.

“Woah, that was a bit too much!” said Harrison as he focused.  “But I can’t slow down!”

“Squee squee!” cried Ripper.  He was handling the controls for the roof cannon, but the unstable road and high speed made it near impossible for him to land a solid shot.  All he was doing was kicking up stones which was doing nothing to slow down their adversary.  It continued to pursue with unearthly persistence.  “Squee squee!” he cried again.

“Oh, of course,” said Harrison, sounding defeated.  “We’re jammed again.  Tracking too?  Can Mike still find us?”

Ripper shrugged.  He had no way to know.

They could hear Scourge’s engine now as he barreled down the road, closer and closer, stones just bouncing off his frontal armor.  Little Outback was no match.  Scourge was so close behind now that Ripper could hardly miss.  He took another shot.

Harrison heard the cannon fire and the shot connect.  He turned his head.  Hair blew behind him from the wind now coming in through the cracked windscreen.  He saw an explosion.  “Yes!  Direct hit!  That’ll slow him down!”

Indeed, Scourge swerved slightly as he struggled to remain on the road.  The rain could not keep down the dust as it pillowed out behind the truck, now filthy with dirt and mud.  Harrison hit the accelerator, but Outback was slowly losing power.  It ran on electric, not gas, and the battery was at less than half.  The tires had been taking a beating and one was getting closer and closer to the red failure zone.  They were almost out of ammo.  Phones and radios all jammed.  Despite the wind coming through, Harrison’s face was covered with sweat as he struggled to maintain control.

Behind them, the black truck gained ground once again.  Ripper fired off another shot which went high.  With GPS out, and Harrison unfamiliar with the roads, they were lost.  Mike told them that if they ever got lost in the countryside, always head towards the water if you could see it.  In this storm, there was no way to navigate.  They were driving blind with no idea what was ahead now.

Another shot, this one impacting the road right in front of Scourge’s front left tire.   It took a dive into the newly created pothole, and Scourge leapt into the air from the impact.  Trying to avoid the crash, the truck transformed into robot mode and took the landing rolling.  Scourge crashed into a roadside tree, completely taking it down and several hydro poles.

“Yes!  That shot was one in a million!” shouted Harrison.

“Squee squee!” agreed Ripper.

“It was our last shell?  Well at least you made it count!” said Harrison to his friend.

Behind them, Scourge was recovering from the crash, and resuming chase on foot.  He began running, with a loud stomp.  Suddenly, just as Harrison was beginning to gain ground, they heard another loud explosion.

“Front tire out!!” cried Harrison.  Their speed dropped dramatically.  Suddenly Scourge was gaining ground again.

“I’m afraid I’m all out of tricks,” said Harrison.  He checked the side door.  His trusty boomerang was stored there.  If worse came to worse, that was all he had left for a weapon.  It had saved his life many times in the past, against demons and knights, but could it even dent one of Unicron’s minions?  The car was crawling now, and Scourge was running.

“Squee!  Squee!” exclaimed Ripper, pointing at his screen.  “Squeeeee!”  He was studying an image from the rear car camera.  He had it zoomed in on Scourge’s head.

“What is it, little friend?  …Oh, really?  I see it.  It is worth a shot.  Literally.  Take the wheel.”

With that, Harrison transferred control of Outback over to Ripper’s little screen.  He retrieved his boomerang from the side door and gripped it firmly.  Just as Mr. McElroy had taught in fifth grade boomerang class.  He opened the window, and leaned out.  As the glass slid down, rain and wind poured into the car, jarring it slightly on its course.

“Hold tight Ripper, and keep it steady,” instructed Harrison.  He leaned out the window, boomerang arm outstretched.  He focused his eyes on the mighty robot, each booming step bringing it closer to their crawling car.  Harrison took a deep breath.  He was one with the boomerang.  Before he knew he was even throwing it, he had released it true on its course.  He watched as the object, too small to be worthy of Scourge’s attention, sailed closer and closer to its target.

Impact.

The small antenna mounted to Scourge’s head was knocked askew, disabling it.  With that, suddenly all communications returned!  Ripper had correctly surmised that the extraneous antenna was jamming all their signals.  And with another one in a million shot, Harrison had just given them another chance.

Suddenly the phone burst to life!  Ripper answered in glee.

“Harrison!  Ripper!  It’s us!  Mike and Dr. K!  Come in!”

Harrison could hardly hold in his relief.  “Oh thank Primus!  We just un-jammed our Decepticon friend but he remains in pursuit and is in robot mode!  We have minutes!”

The phone crackled.  “We have your location…” said Mike, cutting out.  Ripper looked behind and saw that Scourge had stopped to re-align his jamming antenna.  “…stay on course…” crackled Mike.  “Look for the signal…”  Crackle!  “…hit the ditch…”  came more words.  “…keep going!”

“I don’t understand!” said Harrison, but it was too late.  They were jammed again.  Harrison hit the accelerator.  Behind them, Scourge was back in truck mode.

Harrison pushed the pedal down as hard as he could, but it was no use.  The truck’s front bumper was now in contact!  Harrison felt the car lose control as Scourge pushed him down the highway.

Suddenly there was a light ahead.  Headlights blinded Harrison and Ripper.

“Mike said to hit the ditch, this must be it!”  Harrison swerved off the road.  Rolling into a ditch and landing in a cornfield, the chase was over for Outback.

Meanwhile, behind them, Scourge was blinded but kept going at top speed straight down the highway.  Passing the headlights of Jazz on the left hand side of the road, Scourge barreled straight into a sparkling, orange portal.  At roadside, Dr. K. was using her Sling Clarinet, opening a portal into the Schnauzerverse.

“Noooooo!” screamed Scourge as he sailed through.  With a flourish, Dr. K closed the portal as quickly as she opened it.

“He’ll be sleeping in the doghouse now!” punned Dr. K.

“Don’t forget him when he’s gone!” said Mike, high-fiving his sister as he got out of the car.  “Harrison and Ripper!”

Mike took off at a run into the cornfield, where he could clearly see the headlights of Harrison’s car.  Still carrying her bass clarinet, Dr. K joined him.  Outback lay in the corn on its side, wheels still spinning.

“Squee squee!” they heard coming from the car.  “We’re OK!”  said Harrison from a broken window.   “Bruised but not broken.  Very very sore.  A tad thirsty.  Perhaps slightly concussed.”

Mike’s log, stardate…can’t remember.  A couple days after the encounter with the aliens and Decepticons.  It’s been a whirlwind but, things have settled down.

I sit again on the front porch of Northern Lights HQ, vigilant as before.  Jen has returned, and the storm has passed.  Harrison and Ripper have returned to Australia for recovery.  The little guy is fine, but Harrison is worse for wear.  His boomerang arm is expected to make a full recovery.

It is alarming how easily Unicron’s minions can access our universe.  Mr. Durling is very concerned as well, or at least I am told he is concerned.  I wasn’t able to speak with him directly, but I did call up Jex and the Night Ranger, who are currently staying with Aaron at the Archive.  All is well there.  The Snowman is out of contact during his move to Georgia.  I understand he’s starting a peach farm.

Et tu Snowman?…could you have betrayed us?

I don’t want to think about that.  For the moment, that’s not my fish to fry.  That’s Jex’s ball for now.

Durling has sent us more tech to protect HQ.  Shield and hologram projectors.  We can cloak the entire place now.  To outsiders, it now looks abandoned and empty.  Meanwhile, the bad guys don’t have a clue where Harrison is.  Which gives us the advantage.  For Harrison’s safety, this information is being isolated from Snowman’s access.  Person to person, mouth to mouth, no paper trail, no digital trail.  Even Durling doesn’t know.

I write these words in my log and I smile. I walk to the roaring fireplace steps away, and I throw the entire log into the fire.  I stand, and watch the flames grow bright.  The heat on my face is comforting.

“We have to be careful from now on,” I say as I poke the fire and ensured every last paper burns.

And there I sit, by the fire as it slowly burns out.  I activate the new shields and cloaks.  We are safe.  And I intend to keep us safe.  I’m going to end this war, and I’m going to need help.

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

 

 

 

 

Adventures of the Northern Lights: Night Ranger: Heroes of the World

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Five:  Night Ranger:  Heroes of the World

Written and illustrated by HARRISON KOPP

 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

 

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

 

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

NEWS: 50 Years of Iron Maiden announce 50 more years of 50 Years of Iron Maiden

BREAKING:  April 1, 2026 – Canada/Australia.  Mike and Harrison, co-hosts of the YouTube channel “Grab A Stack of Rock”, have announced that their popular programme, 50 Years of Iron Maiden, will take them at least 50 more years to complete.  This works out to approximately 51 years of Maiden-related programming once completed.  We reached out to both of them, to ask about this inconceivable task.

“Yes, it’s true,” confirmed Mike.  “We keep acquiring more and more Maiden stuff, meaning we have to keep adding more and more bonus episodes.”

Harrison added, “As the pedantic one, I don’t like the idea of a show called 50 Years of Iron Maiden taking 51 years to complete, but I do understand the necessity to document every nook and cranny of Maiden.  They really are one of the bands that deserves to have their discography looked at so thoroughly and completely.”

We asked the duo if 50 Years of Iron Maiden had turned out to be a blessing, or an albatross around their necks?

“A bit of both!” laughed Harrison.  “This is far more than I signed up for, but at least it means I have to do fewer ‘contractual obligation’ episodes.  I really wanted to wrap it all up in just 16 months, but here we are at month 16…”

Mike added, “I’m just waiting until the albatross does finally fall from my aching neck.  But, according to the math, I’ll be 104 years old when we do our final episode in 2076.”

“We’d better get working on the next bonus episode, Mike,” concluded Harrison as he pulled his co-host out of his chair.

“No rest for the wicked,” said Mike as a farewell.  “Oh wait, no that’s Ozzy.  Or Helix.  Or both.  I haven’t slept in two days.”

And with that, we look forward to the next 50 years of 50 Years of Iron Maiden!  Coming soon in 2076.

 

Preview:  Look for a bonus episode soon…