Parody Week 2: Temporal Anthropology

21.04.15
The Expedition

34 Dunei 3860 - New Capitol, Rathea

I was approached just five days ago by a friend of mine, Hanhoa Sheiwu the theological historian from the Academy of History, not as a subject but as friend seeking counsel. She had discovered an old carving with circular pictographs which looked uncannily like Gallifreyan writings, and asked me if I could translate it for her. I told her that the symbols looked like shorthand ideograms for celestial objects, like stars and planets, then asked her where she had come across such writing.
Hanhoa explained to me then that the carvings were over three thousand years old, and that she’d hypothesized that Gallifreyans had visited Rathea millennia ago and seeded neroth (i.e. native Rathean) life upon it. I was intrigued, so when she informed me that, she would lead an archaeological expedition to test this hypothesis, traveling to find the source of these pictographs from original dig site at the Howling Mountains, I announced my intention to join this expedition.

As a Gallifreyan myself, I was curious to see if one of my fellow time lords had visited Rathea before me. But, more than anything, I suspected that these were not the results of other time lords, but rather some venture into the past on my part that I was yet to make. If that was the case, it was best that I see what mess I was going to make. If not, well, I have to say that my scientist’s curiosity had peaked.

I assigned the Marquess to keep command in my absence, but when word spread that The Duke of Rathea was to set off on a scientific expedition, Hanhoa’s project gained a great deal more support and volunteers in a very short time, as well as a few minor political detractors. She quickly accumulated a team of intelligent and talented expeditors to join us. There were archaeologists, paleontologists, biologists, historians, dune-walkers, squid-hunters, ice-haulers, warriors, caterers, sumpter herdsmen, navigators and even two publicists. Our expedition numbered just less than forty, myself included, but I had faith in every single one of us.

Our journey began at the gates of New Capitol, where my people were waiting to see us off in a grand ceremony, all of the citizens of New Capital had gathered to fare us well. After an impromptu speech and some cheering, we left the city by large sand-skimmers, hovering across the Capitol Expanse towards the Brum’hara Desert. The soldiers and squid-hunters stood vigil by the open deck of the skimmers, keeping an eye out for sand-squid, for they have a nasty habit of killing those that disturb them, even when hovering above their sand.
It took a full day and night of travel across the Brum’hara; over the Great Southern Salt Lake and through the cracked mud-plains of Entropy before we arrived at the Howling Mountains.

In early morning, we set up a base of operations on a clearing with a solid rock base that no sand-squid could penetrate, and spread out to search. The mountains are named for the sounds the severe winds make as they whistle past the curved, mountain crags, and we heard the roar and howl of the stormy sands as we spread out through the range. Hanhoa directed the teams of scientists around the mountains. and into the mouths of caves, looking for the original site where the etching was found, as the sands had been unsettled in that time. There were scattered remnants, but nothing we could identify, due to erosion of the artefacts.
It was nightfall before we found what we were after. In one of the cave systems, there was evidence of an abandoned settlement. However, upon inspection the paleontologists declared that, rather than nerothkin, this was the ruins of a homas settlement.

The evidence was clear due to the height of the cave drawings; also a makeshift graveyard, within which we discovered several worn down and fossilized bones, including a jawbone which, unlike a neroth mandible, was not split in the middle; a sternum with notches for 7 rib pairs rather than 9, and even a section of pelvis too wide for a neroth. Also, the fact that the remains had been buried rather than burned was enough to convince the historians.
It was then that the biologists pointed out that the settlement, despite having great shelter, had no fertile ground, no plentiful supply of fauna to hunt &, as homas could not retain water like a neroth, there was not enough fresh water to sustain them. They suggested that, since there was fertile lands across the mud plains of Entropy and that Gamera - a small, homas populated city was there - it was likely that the original settlers of this encampment had trekked there to resettle, and were the ancestors of Gamera citizens.
Some were doubtful, as such a walk would take almost a week, even riding on a sumpter beast, and many more were disappointed at discovering homas ancestry rather than neroth, but Hanhoa was excited to be so wrong, and she took two squid hunters, three biologists, a historian and myself to the city by sand-skimmer to speak to the locals.

Although the entirety of Rathea is within the boundary of my duchy, I have seen a scarce fraction of my full domain. So, although the homas fall under the reach of the throne, this fact-finding venture was the first time that the homas had been formally introduced to their duke, or me to them. So, when I met with a homas ambassador, Due to my time lordship, their words were easily translated to me; but also, I recognized the people from the timeship’s database, they were catalogued in the system under “homo sapiens”; I knew then that someone had been meddling with the sub-light species, as these homas “ape aliens” originated from a far-flung world in the Mutter’s Spiral. I translated for my fellow scientists as we asked about their recorded history. Their only memory of the past was by oral tradition, told in song, legend and verse.

Their oldest legend was one of being born when Ego (their creator god) spoke, and the thunderous voice bore them amidst a fire. Then a bolt of lightning lifted them up and they, sailed the sky in the eye of a storm, calm through the turbulent torrent, as Ego calmed the chaos of the world. They were then left on a green and empty land, and were told by Him to live and prosper. There, a chosen few, lead by a prophet, were lead to a magic well, which they dived through to find this new, promised land. Although this land was empty, after wandering the sands, Ego was graceful and He gave them the tools to live and prosper.
Although the story was forgotten and misremembered, their religion said that they stepped through an empty door to find great Mount Mosi, and Hanhoa was convinced that they had come from somewhere within the mountain.

At my behest, the ambassador came with us back to the Howling Mountains with two masters of the church, and he inspected our progress that afternoon. After some short discussion to take possession of the “useless” artefacts that had eroded away in the sands, the local homas told more detailed stories of their journey to Mount Mosi. They said that the prophet had told them to take the well and the pearl and guided his people deep into the caverns, to keep these relics from the dangerous beasts beneath the sand.
With this information, the homas lead a search to the tallest mountain in the Howling Mountain Range, in the hopes that this was the legendary Mount Mosi, and that whatever Gallifreyan influence that brought them could be found there.

We found a deep and twisting cave system under the mountain, but with the guidance of the homas masters of the church, with their knowledge of homas superstition, they found the path of their ancestors and we came upon a deep shrine underground. We set up torches and equipment in that opening, and finally found what we were looking for.
The walls and floor were decorated ceremoniously, but against the back wall and in a divot that had been carved into the rocky ground, we found the legendary “magic well”. It was A great silver ring, seven metres wide, with intricate technology laced within it and nine golden lanterns evenly spaced around the edge within a chevron-shaped frame; and, on an inner ring there were thirty-three panels, and on each was a Gallifreyan ideograms for celestial objects and galactic waypoints.

After observing the technology closely, I was quite impressed by the workmanship. It was obviously due to the ostentatious use of precious metals that this was the work of some proud, renegade time lord, and by its circuitry I identified its function as a wormhole generator. When I also discovered a spherical hologram projector resting on the floor in front of it, I told my fellow scientists to stand back, and I activated the projector. The sphere rose a metre off the ground, then hung in mid-air and projected a holographic interface in a flower-like pattern of thirty-three blue hexagons, each with a symbol on it identical to one present on the wormhole generator itself.
By accessing the dialing computer’s sub-directory, I quickly found the last address dialled, then I entered it into the interface. The lanterns either side lit up consecutively as each symbol was dialed, and as the top lantern was illuminated, a rush of unstable blue energy filled the middle of the ring then the unstable vortex burst forth in a great geyser before receding back into the ring and stabilizing into a rippling event horizon.

We declared the expedition a success and after deactivating the wormhole, Hanhoa declared her expedition an outrageous success and began preparing to transport the wormhole generator to the Capitol for study. However, as my work was done and I needed to return to my duty, I left them to collect the device themselves. So, I boarded a sand-skimmer, alongside the publicists and several soldiers to announce our find to the peoples of Rathea.
It seems that this trip into our past will undoubtedly pave the way towards a more connected future. I am proud to be Duke during this time of advancement, and I can only hope that this discovery will inspire my people to reach for the stars.

The Talladega Experiment

<< < Chapter Eleven > >>

  “Is it goin’ hurt?” asked Isaiah, as he lied back, looking up at the classroom ceiling.
the black doctor stood at the sink by the window, washing his utensils under the water tap.
  “Don’t worry none,” said Dr Carter, as he turned off the tap and put on some gloves. “You’ll be sleepin’. Y’ don’t feel nothin’ then, do ya?”
  “One time, bug bit me when I wwhiteas asleep,” said Isaiah, he glanced down at the grey hairs on his bare chest, with a dotted line drawn in white marker on his brown skin. “Woke me up. If I’m gettin’ cut, won’t I wake up?”
Dr Carter sighed as he put the utensils on the desk beside the table, and filled a needle with a clear liquid.
  “Stop frettin’, y’hear?” he said, as he gave the needle a flick, and squeezed it, letting out the last of the air and a small droplet. “When I’m done, you’ll feel better than ever.”
  “Levi says his new leg hurts sometime . . .” said Isaiah, his voice quivering as he looked at the long needle. “Is this gonna hurt?”
Dr Carter injected Isaiah’s arm and waited, staring at the man until his eyes closed. Then, sighing with relief, he took his scalpel and cut along the line in the man’s chest. Quickly mopping up the blood with a small sponge, Dr Carter turns and picks up a sternal saw, a device which looked similar to a power drill, but with a small, inch-long saw instead of a drill. With an unsettling whirring sound, the doctor walked back over to Isaiah, activated the saw and began cutting through Isaiah’s exposed sternum. After a minute of carving into bone, Dr Carter turned off the saw and placed it back on the desk behind him. He reached into Isaiah’s chest and grabbed the piece of bone. It wiggled, but didn’t move. Carter glanced at the saw, shook his head, then gritted his teeth and yanked out the sternum with a crack. He then dropped the bloodied bone into the nearby wastepaper basket, and picked up his scalpel once more. Cutting into the pericardium, he peeled back the skin exposing Isaiah’s softly beating heart.
  “There’s the little devil,” he muttered to himself. Wiping sweat off his brow with his wrist, Carter turned around and picked up a small, round, segmented metal ball as big as an apple with several copper wires and clear, plastic tubes hanging off of it. He picked up a small, cylindrical, blue crystal from the table and slotted it into the ball, and as soon as it clicked into place, the little ball began pulsating, rhythmically contracting and expanding in his hand . . .

As the Lift rematerialized, landing with a thud, and the groaning of the temporal engine fell silent, Anise was hugging the Duke, her head resting on his chest.
  “We’ve landed,” said the Duke.
  “Okay,” she said.
  “Are you?” he asked. And he moved some of the hair out of her face with a finger, so he could see her eyes. She looked up at him. He was a head taller than her, so she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes, standing so close to him.
  “I am now,” she said.
Edison cleared his throat. A little sheepish, Anise let go and took two steps back.
  “So, where are we?” asked the inspector.
  “Good question. I have no idea, but we’ve travelled back in time a few dozen years,” said the Duke. “Shall we?”
The Duke gestured to the door, and Edison headed outside. The door opened automatically, and Edison stepped into a small wooden room filled with smoke. But, rather than char and burn, it smelled like hickory. There were metal hooks attached to two metal crossbars in the ceiling, and by their feet in the corner was a small, metal pot, seated on a stone step.
  “Okay, now, what is this?” asked Edison, as the three of them stepped into the cramp confines of the Lift lobby.
  “I have no idea,” said the Duke, he closed the door behind him and opened a secret panel above the metal pot, locking it with his key. “This timeship’s defensive system is programmed with an extensive library of exterior shell configurations. As a type seventy-two, it’s limited to those with an interior, but I couldn’t tell you even half of them.It’s designed to blend into any time, in any place upon over two-radix-nine million planets, so as not to arouse suspicion.”
The Duke opened the door of the Lift only to have the prongs of a pitchfork pointed aggressively in his face.
  “What in the hell are you?” said the farmer, an old black man with a perpetual frown and a Southern, American accent.
The Duke glanced looked at the rusty prongs of the fork. They weren’t very sharp, but they were sharp enough to impale a trespasser.
  “I’m a scientist,” said the Duke. “And I don’t want to be skewered.”
  “So, what’s this, then?” said the farmer, taking a step back, he gestured at the roof of the Lift. “I ain’t got a smokehouse. Where’d it come from?”
  “Is that what it is?” said the Duke, genuinely intrigued. “A smokehouse . . . I thought it might’ve been an outhouse.”
  “An’ all three of yer were in it?” said the farmer with a raised eyebrow.
  “It looked bigger on the outside,” said the Duke with a shrug. “Can we come out now?”
The farmer still looked suspicious, but he lowered his pitchfork. The three stepped out of the Lift.
  “I’m the Duke,”said the time lord, with a courteous nod.
  “Levi,” replied the farmer. He held out a hand. The Duke did the same and Levi grabbed it in a firm handshake. “So, you’re a scientist, are you?”
  “I dabble in the study of time and space,” said the Duke.
  “Y’all any good with machines?” he asked.
The Duke reached into his pocket and retrieved his laser spanner.
  “I could turn a telephone into a teleporter,” said the Duke.
  “Then, could you lend me a hand?” he said, lowering the pitchfork “Perhaps you could fix this?”
Levi bent down and grabbed the hem of his left trouser leg, and hitched it up to show his ankle, but when he pulled down his long, grey sock, there wasn’t a leg underneath. Instead, where his leg had been, there was a blocky looking metal box. which had a few scratches on it. The side of it was dented.
  “Now, that’s weird . . .” muttered Edison.
  “What seems to be the problem?” asked the Duke, kneeling down in front of the man.
  “I can’t move the foot anymore, it’s the ankle.” said Levi. “The doc’ said he didn’t have time to help. I checked the hinge and drive chain, but the damned thing just won’t move.”
  “I can’t fix it here,” said the Duke. “We’ll need a flat surface of some description. A table or a bench?”
  “Of course, this way.” he said, picking up his pitchfork. The Duke held back as Levi lead the way out of the field.
  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” the Duke said quietly, “but, that technology looks to be beyond this era of human development.”
  “Definitely,” said Anise.
  “Then I think we’re in the right place at the right time,” said the Duke with a smirk.
They headed to closer down towards the farmhouse, and into a shed nearby. Once inside, the farmer threw his leg up onto the worktable, and the Duke hunched over to work on it.
  “What happened here?” asked the Duke, as he reached under the dented ankle-guard to find three taught, green wires.
  “Thresher ran over it,” says Levi. “It’s the damned leg’s. I was drivin’ ‘n’ it got caught on the pedal. When I tried to wrench it out, it stood up, I got thrown off me seat.”
  “Well, it’s crushed these wires,” said the Duke. He scanned the wires with a green ray from his spanner, then singled one of them out and stripped one of them with a thumbnail.
  “How did you lose it in the first place?” asked Anise “Didn’t run that over, did you?”
  “Nah, infection,” said Levi. “They reckon it’s bedbugs, or a field mite. Toes went numb, and I couldn’t move it right. But, the doctor made it better.”
  “The what?” said the Duke in a low growl.
  “The doctor,” said Levi, “Doc Carter.”
  “Oh,” said the Duke. He cut and twisted the wires together, then used his spanner to solder them together, and reseal the rubber insulation. “There; take it for a test run.”
The Duke stepped back and Levi swung his leg back over onto the ground. He took a few steps, and the leg moved naturally, as though it were his own, just made of metal.
  “Well, I’ll be,” said Levi, as he grabbed the Duke’s hand in a firm handshake. “Ya’ll are good. Thank yer, greatly.”
  “You’re welcome,” said the Duke. “I’m always happy to help.”
  “Hey . . .” said Levi, looking at the Duke. “Uh, I don’t mean to impose, but . . . d’you reckon you could help out some o’ the others?”
  “Other what?” asked the Duke.
  “Other people what Carter fixed,” said Levi. “The Doc’s busy with his work, but if you can repair a leg, surely you could fix an arm, right? If it’s not too much trouble.”
  “On the contrary,” said the Duke. “I insist that you show me these other . . . ‘prosthetics’.”

After Levi fetched his hat and put on a coat, he and the timeship trio headed down the road and into town. Anise was a little annoyed when Edison explained that cars were not commercially available yet, but the four of them travelled a quarter mile down the road on foot. As they went, Levi explained the infestation that had taken the town. Almost all of Talladega was at risk to a parasite which caused spots on the skin, numbness and hair loss on the extremities, before paralysis, deformity and eventually disability. Luckily, Doctor Carter from the local university offered to replace their disabled limbs with some that the school had developed. It had allowed their farming community to thrive, even in the midst of disease.
In town, they walked into some kind of street market, several carts were set up with makeshift shade cloths, and farmers stood out front, offering people vegetables, flour, eggs & smoked or salted meats. What stood out was that more than half of the locals were African American. And some of them seemed to have machinery where body parts should have been.
  “Ralph!” Levi called, as he approached a cart loaded with eggs and plucked chickens. The three walked over, but Anise and Edison both jumped when Ralph turned to look at them. He was a plump, bald man, and he looked cheery, but his left eye was missing, and in its place was a silver orb with a red laser-iris.
  “Levi, what brings you?” asked Ralph. “We’ve got some large googs, y’want ‘em . . .”
  “Not right now. First, I’ve got some new visitors. Pommies,” he said, indicating the Duke, Anise & Edison. “Duke here reckons he can fix yer eye.”
  “Oh, yeah?” said Ralph. “How much?”
  “Entirely,” said the Duke with a raised eyebrow.
  “Nah, I mean, what will it cost me?”
  “It won’t cost you anything but a moment of time,” said the Duke, stepping forward. “What seems to be the problem?”
  “It’s gone blue,” said Ralph, gesturing at it. “Everythin’ I see is blue.”
  “Da ba dee-” mumbled Anise, before Edison elbowed her to shut her up.
The Duke stepped closer. On Ralph’s head, behind the occipital bone of his artificial eye, was a square, metal panel, and trailing to the back of his head were what looked like veins, but there were scars where they’d been stitched closed. The Duke scanned it with his laser spanner.
  “This is . . . part of your brain?” said the Duke. “Well, it appears as though the display has worn out, from continual use. But I can reconfigure the resolution . . .”
The spanner buzzed as the Duke adjusted it, and then Ralph flinched as the laser-iris went dark.
  “Hey! It’s gone black, I can’t see!” he yelped, stepping back.
  “It’s rebooting,” said the Duke as he grabbed his head, frowning, and applied the spanner to his head again. “One moment, and . . .”
The laser-iris turned on again, bright red.
  “Oh my God . . . I can see.”
  “It wore out because it’s been working all day and night,” said the Duke. “I’ve set it to deactivate when your other eye closes.”
  “What?” said Ralph. He blinked his eye, and the red iris went black, switching on when he opened it again. “Dear gods, it’s better than ever. I might finally get a good night’s sleep!”
He jumped at the Duke, grabbing him in a hug.
  “You’re welcome,” said the Duke, with a slight smirk.
  “Can y’all help some others?” asked Levi, as he gestured to the rest of the market. “A lot of our parts have worn down . . .”
  “Of course,” said the Duke, Ralph let go, and the Duke stepped forward, holding his laser spanner. “Anyone else with broken technology?! I have the means to fix it for you!”
Some of the people looked up, and the Duke noted, most of them had mechanical prosthetics.
  “For Free!” chimed in Levi.
Before he knew it, a crowd started to form.
  “Form a line! Form a line!” yelled Ralph, and Edison stepped forward to organize the foot traffic. At the front of the line was a little girl with brass fingers.
  “‘Scuse me, sir, my thumb ain’t workin’.”
  “Here, allow me,” said the Duke, kneeling down and taking her hand in his.

Dozens of people came forth. Samuel, a man with metal arms which had grown weaker from overuse, which the Duke tightened; a named Bertram with a reinforced spine which was stiff, that the Duke reprogrammed; & Simon, a man with a mechanized voicebox who got a nasty shock whenever he drank a pint, until the Duke repaired the frayed wiring. The Duke was happy to help, but he was bothered by the prevalence of scars, aching stumps and simple mistakes in the construction of these otherwise advanced machines.
Several of the other cyborgs had perfectly functioning parts, and after the Duke had repaired the broken, some of them asked the Duke to give them a check-up, while the rest stood to the side to watch, hoping to learn how to self-maintain their parts.
  “Where can I get a spanner like that?” asked Ralph, as the Duke kneeled to scan a woman’s slightly rusted kneecap with a green laser.
  “I’m afraid they don’t make them like this anymore,” the Duke said, softly, before turning to the woman. “This is fine, Miss Cotton, but I suggest a coat of paint so it won’t oxidize further.”
The Duke stood up when another man stepped up, with a few grey hairs in his beard.
  “Excuse me? You’re Duke, sir?” said Isaiah, frowning and scratching his chest nervously.
  “Yes,” said the Duke. “I’m helping repair any broken prosthetics, can I help you?”
  “I don’t know . . .” said the man. he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a rectangular plate, held in the middle of his chest with screws, which, by the look of the stretched, twisted skin underneath, seemed to be screwed into the flesh, all the way to the ribs, and the skin was red, torn and sore-looking.
  “What in the name . . .” muttered the Duke, stepping forward. He scanned the plate. “How old is this?” he asked.
  “I got it last night . . .” said Isaiah. The Duke looked shocked.
  “What’s that?” said Anise.
  “An access panel,” said the Duke, “ . . . to this man’s artificial heart.”
  “Can you help?” asked Isaiah.
  “Well, the device is functioning properly . . .”
  “It hurts,” says Isaiah. “It hurts when I breath . . . and it’s beating so fast.”
The Duke placed his hand to Isaiah’s chest, and he flinched to the touch.
  “You’re overheating,” said the Duke, dropping his hand. “Anise, come here a moment, will you?”
  “How can I help?” Anise asked, stepping closer. The Duke placed one hand on the side of her neck and waited a few seconds. “ . . . his heartbeat is almost twice as fast as yours.”
  “What does that mean?” asked Anise, blushing.
  “I’m no expert, but I’d guess that he has a fever,” says the Duke. “you need a medical officer, not me.”
  “I can’t find Doc’ Carter,” says Isaiah, “and we got no other doctors in town. Please, Mister Duke . . .”
The Duke frowns and rubs the back of his bald head as he thinks.
  “I could scan you with the ship and see what the medical database has on file. It’s on the field which belongs to Levi.”
  “Fair walk from here . . .” says Isaiah. “I’m already short of breath. Could I come by tomorrow?”
  “Of course,” said the Duke. “Drink plenty of fluid, and I’ll do some research this evening.”
Isaiah nodded and slowly shuffled away, buttoning his shirt as he left.
  “We’re staying the night?” asked Edison.
  “We’re staying until I find out what’s causing this technological anachronism,” said the Duke under his breath, “and I want to know more about this ‘Doctor’ Carter.”
  “Do you have a place to stay?” asked Levi.
  “We can remain in the ship?”
  “You talkin’ ‘bout that smokehouse?” asked Levi.
  “Well, it’s not really a smokehouse . . .” said the Duke.
  “No no, for all you’ve done for us, I’ll give you feed, bed and shelter. We’ll probably get another few years out of these parts, thanks to you,” said Levi. “Come back to my place, we’ll feed you good.”
  “Walking?” Anise sighed, to Edison. “It’s times like this when I miss my Pinto . . .”
  “Don’t worry,” said Edison. “Next time, we’ll get the Duke to take us to a time when jetpacks have been invented . . .”

The Lift crew followed Levi back to his home. The whole way, Levi was asking the Duke about fixing his leg, meanwhile the Duke was quizzing Levi about farming machinery, and Levi explained equipment such as a thresher or a horse-drawn reaper. At Levi’s farm Janice, his wife, had prepared gumbo for dinner, she was annoyed at the unannounced guests, until Levi showed her his working leg and insisted the Duke join them for dinner; in thanks, she set the table for five. They fetched bread and cheese to make the meal large enough for all of them and ate while Levi told his wife all about how the Duke had fixed the Talladega townsfolk.
After dinner, Anise and Edison helped set up two rooms for guests, while the Duke headed for the Lift. Levi followed him out.
  “So, what’s this smokehouse, if it ain’t a smokehouse?” asked Levi. “I heard a grindin’ and when I looked, yer hut was there.”
  “It’s a ship,” said the Duke. “My ship.”
  “A ship?” said the farmer, as they stood before the smokehouse-Lift once more, lit by the fading sunset. “So, what does that make you? British Navy?”
  “I suppose you could say that,” said the Duke, stepping into the smoke-filled lobby. He mumbled under his breath as he opened the hidden panel “It’s incorrect, but it’s easier to explain than the truth . . .”
The Duke opened the door and stepped into the console room. Levi followed behind and stepped inside. When he saw the glass column and pseudo-Roman architecture of the domed ceiling, he whistled. The Duke smiled as Levi craned his neck to look up and around at the large room.
  “Not bad,” said Levi, standing by the door.
  “ . . . not bad?” said the Duke, his smile dropping. “Most people act more . . . disbelieving.”
  “Why?” asked Levi. “I saw it with me own two eyes. What’s not to believe?”
  “Open-minded. I like that,” said the Duke, heading over the the console. He headed to one of the panels and started typing into a holographic keyboard, covered in circles.
  “So, is it like a duck-blind,” said Levi, glancing at the still-smoking lift lobby.
  “A what?”
  “Y’know, a huntin’ blind. You make a hut, cover it in somethin’ so it blends in, then ducks’ll come up, and you can shoot ‘em.”
  “Why would you do that?” asked the Duke.
  “So they come close. They get scared o’ people, so you hide yourself and your scent.”
  “No, I mean to say, why would you shoot ‘ducks’?” said the Duke.
  “To eat,” said Levi. “Do they not eat duck in England?”
  “I suppose not,” said the Duke. “But I certainly don’t shoot ducks.”
  “Well, no, but it’s a bit like a people-blind, isn’t it?” said Levi.
  “I don’t shoot people, either,” said the Duke. “I’m not a hunter.”
  “But you’re a soldier,” said Levi.
  “I am not a soldier!” barked the Duke. Levi was taken aback.
  “But . . . you said so yourself. British Navy,” said Levi. “Aren’t you?”
  “Oh, yes. Of course . . .” said the Duke, and he seemed to stare into the distance. “I don’t fight anymore. I left the battlefield. I hate war . . . I turned my back on it, to be a leader.”
He deactivated the holo-keyboard and walked over to Levi. “We’re done here.”
  “That’s it?” said Levi. “Is this what you brought me to see?”
  “No, I was just scanning you with the computer, to find out everything I can about your prosthetic,” said the Duke. “It’ll run it through the information system overnight.”
  “Alright,” said Levi, turning for the door. The Duke led him out, opening the wooden smokehouse door for him.
“Oh, one last thing,” said the Duke as Levi stepped outside. “Where exactly did you get your leg from?”
  “From Doctor Carter,” said Levi.
  “Yes, I know that, but where might I find the good doctor?” asked the Duke.
  “Talladega College,” said Levi. “The campus is a few streets from market. it’s huge, you can’t miss it.”
  “Alright. Thank you, Levi,” said the Duke. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
  “Goodnight, Duke,” said Levi, heading off to the farmhouse.
  “Good night . . .” said the Duke. He watched Levi stroll away home, but as soon as he was out of sight, the Duke locked the console room entrance, then ran off into the night.

The Duke stepped onto the lawns of the college campus, he could barely see through the darkness of the young night as he took the laser spanner out of his leather jacket. The device made a soft buzzing sound as he scanned it left and right, but flashed bright blue as he pointed it to a redbrick building in the distance. It flashed blue every time the laser scanned in that direction, and so he set off towards it.
At the entrance, the Duke grasped the handle, but the door was locked and wouldn’t budge. Glancing around, the Duke reprogrammed his spanner and pointed it at the latch. A searing red laser shot into the crack in the door, cutting through the lock. The Duke opened the door, still smoking, and fetched the sizzling latchbolt from the door’s strikeplate. He pressed the metal to the latch again, and welded it in place with the red laser. By the time it was re-attached, the metal was red-hot and the Duke snapped his hand away.
  “Drat!” he yelled as he shook his burnt fingers to cool them. Then, blowing on his fingers, he unlocked the door. It was a bit stiff, but the lock mechanism still worked. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, checking his spanner again with the flashing, blue light as he walked. He made his way down the dark hallway and after a few minutes of searching, the Duke came to a door which set off the blue light indicator, so he pocketed his laser spanner and opened the door.
The classroom had several rows of desks, but they were all pushed together and covered with equipment. What caught the Duke’s eye was the desk at the front of the room, it was bare except for a small cushion near the edge. The Duke inspected the desk closely. It was perfectly clean, but there was a wastepaper basket beside the desk filled with bloody rags, latex gloves and other equipment. The Duke then turned to the equipment on the student desks.
Amongst the bolts, wires and spare metal parts, there were some whole body parts. A polished, metal nose; a hinge that twisted and bent like a kneecap; some structural bands that looked disturbingly like a ribcage & some dismembered, metal fingers.
  “Unlucky tadger . . .” murmured the Duke as he picked up a brass pelvis with rattling hip joints. “But how did they build you? The material is local . . . but this circuitry looks familiar.”
The Duke scanned the device, and looked it over when he heard a snuffling, grunting sound. Immediately, he dropped the device and looked around the room. The sound came from under the window, where there was a terrarium with sand in the bottom and a strange looking animal inside. The Duke approached the glass box beside the sink, and found a nine-banded armadillo. The Duke scanned the animal with his laser spanner, as he did, the creature squeaked and curled up into a ball, showing some patches of pink on its armour.
  “Just like a gila lizard,” said the Duke.
  “What’re you doin’ in here?” said a stern voice.
The lights turned on, and the Duke turned to see a black man with glasses standing in the doorway, a frown on his face and a cardboard box of metal parts in his hands.
  “I didn’t realize anyone was here. What is this?” asked the Duke.
  “That’s an armadillo,” said the man. “How did you get in here?”
  “I came through the front door. Are you Doctor Carter?”
  “I am,” he said, stepping inside and placing the box on a desk. “Look, you can’t jus’ come in here, this is private property.”
  “I do apologize, I just wanted to know more about what you do here, I was looking for you. What are you doing so late at night?”
  “Late delivery,” said the doctor. “Look, who are you?”
  “I’m the Duke of Rathea, and I’ve been hearing a lot about you, doctor.”
  “A duke?” he said. “What is this, some kinda royal oversight? This ain’t Britannia’s business.”
  “I never said it was, I’m just having a look,” said the Duke. “If I may, when I was younger I had rather weak legs, it was a real bother. I wonder, could you give me some new knees?”
  “Definitely not,” said Dr Carter.
  “No?” said the Duke. “Not even a tin toenail? Are they expensive?”
  “No, I’m afraid these enhancements are not ready for commercial application.”
  “How could that be the case?” asked the Duke. “Everyone in town seems to be ‘enhanced’.”
  “They’re not commercial product. This town’s been chosen for human trial, as they are combattin’ a wastin’ parasite, they’re prime candidates for transplant,” said the doctor.
  “No one in town mentioned that this was an experiment.”
  “No one in town knows. The subjects haven’t been told, so they won’t skew results,” said the doctor. Seeing the concerned look on the Duke’s face, he continued. “For participation, they have free medical check-up, and they can keep their enhancements after the experiment is over with.”
  “Right,” said the Duke. “So, who builds these enhancements?”
  “Private military contractor,” said the doctor. patting the cardboard box. “Now, if that’s all, I have a lot of work to do . . .”
The doctor gestured towards the door.
  “One last thing,” said the Duke, gesturing to the desks covered in parts. “Who are all these parts for?”
  “Nobody, yet.” said the doctor. “We’re still locatin’ subjects to test them on.”
The Duke nodded and walked to the door. As he passed the box, the Duke glanced at it and saw a logo printed on the cardboard. It looked like a simplified symmetrical four-leaf clover symbol, oriented like a plus sign. Doctor Carter lead the Duke out of the classroom and walked him to the front door, locking it behind him.
  “Experiment . . .,” muttered the Duke as he headed away from the campus and back to his ship. “Then the question is, who proposed this experiment? And why in Talladega?”

The next morning, Anise and Edison woke to find Janice, Levi’s wife, in the kitchen cooking up eggs.
  “Sleep well?” she asked. The others yawned in response, Anise tugging at her tangled mess of hair. “Can ya’ll head up to Duke’s smokehouse? Ask him if he wants eggs.”
  “I’m sure he does,” said Edison.
They headed out of the farmhouse and made their way up the field, past several haybales, towards the smokehouse.
  “Duke!” Anise called. “It’s time for breakfast!”
They opened the door, entered the smoke-filled lobby and Edison banged on the faux-wooden panels hiding the sliding doors. They slid open.
  “Come in, come in!” said the Duke. The pair of them entered to see the Duke standing to the left of the console. There was a whiteboard behind him, with some kind of circuit diagram drawn with swirling lines, and he was furiously typing on a holographic keyboard.
  “Duke? We were wondering what you wanted for breakfast,” said Edison.
  “Leprosy!” announced the Duke, marching over to his companions.
  “That doesn’t sound appetizing,” muttered Anise, yawning.
  “I scanned our friend Levi with the computer. I was trying to identify the prosthetic technology, but I also scanned his biology,” he said, transferring the holographic screen to the console in front of them, it a small cluster of wiggling, red rods. “Everyone claims that the townspeople are being infested by a parasite. But they aren’t, it is in fact a bacterium, which causes leprosy.”
  “Alright, so, it’s a bacteria. So what?” said Anise. “They’re lepers, that explains them losing limbs.”
  “No, it doesn’t,” said the Duke. “This database confirms that this infection, alone, doesn’t cause loss of limb. Merely numbness and skin irritation, it alone doesn’t cause limb loss. Moreso, the majority of humans are naturally immune to it.”
  “Leprosy is not necrotic,” said Edison. “That’s a common misunderstanding.”
  “Alright, leprosy . . . how does this explain the robot parts?” said Anise
  “Oh, that’s another matter,” said the Duke, walking over to the whiteboard and tapping its surface. “I thought I recognized this circuitry, but I was looking at the big picture . . . I needed to step a little closer, and look at it from a different point of view.”
the Duke stepped closer, so his nose was nearly touching the board as he looked it over.
  “And what did that tell you?” asked Edison.
  “Cyber-technology,” said the Duke, looking to his friends. “Do you remember Hawaii?”
  “Definitely,” said Edison, “that’s the first time we worked together.”
  “Of course . . .” said the Duke. “Well, I saw that technology up close, I know it intimately. The anachronistic technology here has the same circuitry. It took me so long to recognize it because the materials used were different, but that’s easily explained if they are reverse-engineering this prosthetic technology from cyber-technology, using homeworld metals.”
  “So, their limbs are alien technology?” said Anise.
  “Alien-inspired. But, manufactured by some kind of private company; I don’t know much about them except that they are represented by this symbol.” The Duke flipped a switch, and the four-petaled plus-flower logo appeared on the screen.
  “Alright then, so, they’re making alien cyborg parts,” said Anise. “But, what does that have to do with leprosy?”
  “Everything,” said the Duke. “Despite what everyone believes about the good doctor, he’s not helping these people out of the kindness of his heart. This is just an experiment, to test the prosthetics. But, to test them, requires a lot of volunteers willing and able to replace their body parts. The leprosy is merely an excuse, a tool used by the doctor and his people to provide them with a steady stream of patients.”
  “You’re saying they infected them deliberately?” said Edison.
  “Yes, and worse. Even at this point in your history, you have the ability to prevent the spread of leprosy and manage its symptoms to prevent permanent damage; yet this entire town is infected, and despite being monitored closely by this doctor, they suffer blindness and severe mutation,” said the Duke. He switched off the holographic screen and stood before his companions. “I believe that Doctor Carter, and this military organization, not only infected people with leprosy, I believe that they have exacerbated it; weakened people’s immune systems so that they are more susceptible to it, and allowed for secondary infections and maltreatment - deliberately - to the point of limb loss and organ failure . . .”
  “That’s insane,” said Edison.
  “Oh my god,” said Anise. “So . . . Ralph? And Levi? Clara, the little girl?!”
  “All of them, mutilated,” said the Duke.
  “We have to tell them!” said Anise. She grabbed the Duke’s hand and pulled him to the door.

Levi’s face fell, the egg on his fork cooling as the Duke paced back and forth at the other side of the table, speaking quickly.
  "But how can that even be?” said Janice. “Benjamin Carter is a doctor. How could he infect us with parasites?”
  “It’s not a parasite, it’s a bacterium. A ‘germ’,” said the Duke. “And I believe it has been spread by the doctor during your medical examinations. That’s why the affliction has spread through this town, but no other.”
  “But why would they do this to us?” said Levi. “Why us? Why Talladega?”
  “I don’t know,” said the Duke. “All I know is that they’re here now, and they’re allowing these infections to disfigure you, so you can be used as test subjects.”
Levi dropped his fork.
  “What are we gonna do?” he said, staring at his plate. “I can barely believe it . . .”
  “We’re gonna tell ‘em all, that’s what we goin’ do,” said Janice, jumping up from the table. “Everyone’ll be at church, we can go and tell the whole flock.”
  “Good,” said the Duke. “That will make things easier. How do we get to this church?”
  “First, you sit your butt down,” said Janice.
  “Pardon?” said the Duke.
  “I don’t care if the world is endin’. You’re gonna eat a good meal, and put on some good clothin’ before you step in God’s house.”
The Duke glanced at his companions with a raised eyebrow.
  “Come on, Duke. I’m hungry, anyway. And the town isn’t going anywhere,” said Edison.
The Duke sighed, then sat down before a plate of eggs.

After breakfast, The Duke, Edison and Anise returned to the Lift to get changed, while Janice and Levi left to make their way on foot. Anise disappeared into the Wardrobe while the two men headed to their quarters. Edison was the first to reappear in the console room, wearing a white singlet, with a beige, dress shirt over the top, he did up the buttons as he waited for the others.
After a few minutes, the Duke stepped out, and Edison couldn’t help but drop his jaw. He was wearing a some kind of hooded robe. Underneath he wore an outfit which looked similar to a karate gi, worn by martial artists; but it was made of a silky material; and instead of a belt, a thick, golden rope wrapped around his stomach many times to cover his midriff like a cummerbund. Over the top of this was a hooded robe that hung loosely around him, it was the colour of sand and made of a kind of soft burlap, and around the hem, lapels & cuffs, were swirling, decorative patterns stitched with white thread.
  “Oh my god,” said Edison. “What are you wearing?”
  “This is the ceremonial Bei’sianu Lightseer robe,” said the Duke. “I was told we were going to a ‘House of God’.”
  “Yeah, but a Christian one. You look like a . . . desert monk.”
  “As the Duke of Rathea, I am also the holy leader and head of the church. This is what I am ordained to wear during religious rites.”
  “Good grief . . .” said Edison, shaking his head. “I was right, you do believe in yourself.”
They were interrupted with a ding! as the elevator arrived. The doors opened, and Anise stepped out, wearing a white, sleeveless dress with a black band around the waist, white court shoes and a white hat with a white flower on top.
  “I can’t remember, are women supposed to wear hats in church, or . . . ? Duke, what the hell are you wearing?” said Anise, stopping short when she saw the Duke.
  “It’s a Poinciana Light dress,” said Edison
  “Bei’sianu robe.” corrected the Duke, stepping to the console. “And since we’re about to enter a holy building, you should both curtail the blasphemy.”
  “It’s just church, Duke,” said Anise.
  “It doesn’t matter,” said the Duke. “It is the responsibility of a time lord to respect the beliefs and practices of alien cultures. As my companions, I expect the same of you.”
  “I’ll be nice if they’re nice to me,” said Edison. “Religion let me down a long time ago.”
The Duke finished entering their new co-ordinates and grabbed the ignition lever.
  “I’ll be alright. Come on, time to go to church,” said the Duke, and he pulled the lever.

With a whir, a whine, a roar and a thump, the timeship rematerialized within the small, community church, shaped like a confessional booth, with two curtained kneeling booths on either side and a small, cross on the top. The centre door opened, and the Duke stepped out to see a rather confused looking preacher, with a mechanical arm. There were two other townsfolk, distributing hymn books amongst the pews who’d stopped to stare.
  “What in God’s name?” said the preacher.
  “Uh . . . traveling confessional?” offered Edison, glancing at the ship.
  “I apologize for the intrusion,” said the Duke. “We’re here to speak to your congregation, I am the Duke.”
  “Yes, I saw y’all yesterday. Thought you were a mechanic, not a miracle worker.”
  “I aspire to be a bit of both,” said the Duke. “We’ve come to speak with the people of the church, to help them.”
  “As much as I appreciate the gesture,” said the preacher, “we’re Methodist, not Catholic,”
  “What?” said the Duke. “I don’t understand, I am no ‘Catholic’, we’re here to explain what we’ve learned about the ‘parasite’.”
  “And how Doctor Carter’s involved,” said Edison. “If you’ll allow it.”
  “Ah . . . O’ course,” said the preacher. “After sermon, anyone can speak.”
  “I’m afraid this is more important,” said the Duke. “I’m here to help them save their bodies, afterwards you can tell them how to save their souls . . .”
The Duke walked down the centre nave of the church, and to the door. He pulled it open and stepped out to see several dozen people chatting patiently to each other, many of them with metallic parts all dressed in their Sunday best. He recognized many of them, including Levi and Janice near the back. Many turned to see him as his towering figure stood at the top of the steps leading into the church.
  “Everyone, please. I need to speak to all of you,” said the Duke, raising his hands and his voice to get their attention. “You have all been betrayed!”
Everyone went quiet.
“I have seen and spoken with many of you, while I was helping to fix your broken parts. After seeing the way all of you have been afflicted by this ‘parasite’, I now know who caused this! The same man that claims to help you, was the one that made like this. Doctor Benjamin Carter has infected all of you with leprosy!”
  “The doc’ has helped us!” yelled out someone from the crowd, the Duke recognized him as a man named Karl, who had artificial kidneys. “You to tarnish his good work?!”
  “Duke is tellin’ the truth!” called Levi, pushing through the confused crowd. “It’s why Talladega’s sick, but our neighbors ain’t. The doc’ came here, nowhere else!”
  “Thank you . . .” said the Duke. “I know that he has given you these parts, but he was the one that made you sick. He infected you, so that you would lose body parts, so they could test these devices!” The Duke walked down the steps, and looked at several of the people he had helped as he walked through them.
  “It’s why he let you fall into disrepair; it’s why so many of you are scarred from his surgeries & it’s the reason why, despite having the doctor’s care for a year, they are still no closer to a cure for this sickness . . . he doesn’t want you to get better, because they still have dozens more ‘enhancements’ to test.” The Duke stepped through to the other side of the crowd and he turned around to face them. “Even if you are still doubtful, I beseech you now. Come with me, and together we will all confront this doctor, and demand the answers you all rightfully deserve!”
The Duke stared down the people, looking for those that would listen; dressed in his Lightseer robe, he looked the image of a furious messiah judging his people.
  “Well, come on!” yelled out Janice, hitching her dress up so she could walk. “Don’t just stand there catchin’ flies in yer mouths! I want some gosh-dang answers!”
As she moved, so too did Levi. The Duke began walking and as more of their friends joined them; eventually over two-thirds of the congregation was following the Duke. Anise and Edison ran up through the crowd to join the Duke at the lead.
  “Good speech,” said Edison. “It certainly rallied the masses.”
  “Thank you” said the Duke. “I’ve given several hundred speeches in my time. Admittedly, I employed speech writers to find my words for me. But, I know from experience that it’s highly effective to seed accomplices throughout the crowd . . .”

The group of townspeople walked to the Talladega College campus, as they walked they talked amongst themselves about their doubts and fears; they spoke of the few that had died from botched surgeries and the way he ignored their disrepair. The Duke lead them to the same building he had broken into the night before, but the door was once again locked. He knocked against the door.
  “Doctor Carter!” he called. The people behind him were getting impatient. He reached into his robe to retrieve his laser spanner, but Levi pushed him aside.
  “Out of the way!” he said. He raised his cybernetic leg and kicked the door in. The Duke stepped back as the people, determined, followed Levi into the building. The Duke joined their ranks as they swarmed the building. Since every single one of them had been in that building before, and operated on upon that same table, they moved as one towards Benjamin Carter’s office. They stormed the room two at a time.
  “Who’re you?” asked Levi.
Near the window by the armadillo’s terrarium, two white men were standing, waiting. The two of them were wearing white, business shirts, rolled up at the sleeves exposing tattoos, business trousers and grey, pinstriped vests. One of them had a shaved head, with a scar over his right ear and the side of his forehead. The other had oily, black hair, tattoos around his neck and a thin, black tie. They both slowly turned to look at the townsfolk.
  “I must admit, I wasn’t expectin’ that,” said the skinhead with a slack Scottish accent.
  “What? Mob o’ cyborgs stormin’ the buildin’?” the man in the tie said, in an Irish accent dripping with sarcasm. “If you’re not prepared for that, what good are yeh?”
  “Where’s Doc Carter?!” yelled Levi.
  “Where are-rrr yeh, DOC-tor Carter?” Simon’s mechanical larynx buzzed. “You CAN’T hide!”
  “Where’s the rotten scoundrel at?!” said Karl.
  “Not very nice, are they?” said Skinhead, to his partner, smirking in a way that showed off his chipped, front tooth. “Doctor’s not in at the moment. Can I take a message?”
  “Where the hell is the doctor?!” yelled Levi.
The crowd was growing restless, when Ralph’s red eye fell upon the tables cluttered with prosthetics.
  “Damn it, Carter!” he yelled. He grabbed the table edge and four other hands one of them with a metal wrist, came to help him; the table turned over and the metal and wires clattered onto the ground. in a tangled, broken mess.
  “Hey! That’s company property!” yelled Skinhead. “Back off, you mongrels!”
  “Alright, break it up!” yelled Edison, pushing to the front of the crowd. “Calm yourselves, people!”
  “What in tarnation is goin’ on here?! yelled out Dr Carter as he entered the rear door of the classroom.
  “Your patients are rebelling, doc‘.” said Black Tie.
  “What you people doin’ here, causin’ a ruckus?” said Carter.
  “You!” said Levi, pointing an accusing finger. “You gotta lot t’ answer for.”
  “What in God’s name have yer done to us?” said Ralph.
  “God-damned BUTcher!”
  “What gives you the right!”
  “Why’d you do this to us?!”
The voices converged together into a uproar as the crowd’s temper rose.
  “SILENCE!” commanded the Duke. The sound subsided, more out of fear than obedience, the Duke’s teeth were clenched and his tall shoulders were rocking with each heavy breath. “We’re not here to make trouble, we’re here for solutions, damn it!”
  “Listen to the Duke,” said the preacher. The Duke glanced at the man, surprised that he had joined the crowd. “Righteous, not riotous. We are God’s people, not animals.”
The preacher moved to see the doctor, face to face.
  “What is this?” said Dr Carter.
  “We want answers,” said the preacher. “There’ve been a lotta claims slung today, I want to hear you explain ‘em.”
  “What ‘claims’?” said Carter, clearly annoyed.
  “Duke here says you done infected us all.”
  “With leprosy.” added Levi, frowning cruelly.
  “Leprosy?” said Carter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All of you, get out of here!”
  “Don’t you lie to us!” screamed Ralph. He looked like he wanted to throttle the man as he stepped forward, breathing like a bull about to charge. “I lost weeks of sleep because o’ this god-forsaken eye!”
  “Afore Duke fixed us, we all of us suffered!” yelled Karl.
  “Why haven’t you helped to cure the infection?” asked the preacher
  “No one in town is has a rotten elbow!” said Ralph, picking up one of the hinged prosthetics from the floor. “Are you making these for us, or us for them?! Why did you do this to us?”
The crowd advanced on him, but the doctor took a step back.
  “Get back, don’t touch me! Goddamned animals!” the doctor yelled. The preacher was taken aback at the outburst.
“All you useless bastards had to do was live your pointless lives, ignorant and stupid as always!”
  “How dare you?” said Levi.
  “How dare I?” said Carter, chuckling hysterically, sweat dotting his brow. “Look at you uncivilized apes! For almost two years, you didn’t even know why you were sick! That’s why I experimented on you stupid negroes!”
There was an eerie silence for a moment before Edison broke.
  “What the actual fuck?” Edison muttered. “You’re racist? That’s why you chose to infect Talladega? Because it’s a black town?”
  “And you didn’t even know!” he yelled.
  “Because we trusted you,” said the preacher. “Why would you turn on your Christian brothers?”
  “Leave God outta this, He helps them who help themself; but you people can’t even think for yourself! You need this ‘Duke’ to help you! If he hadn’t helped you, you’d be in church right now, prayin’ to be saved! And he only helped you because he feels sorry for you.” Carter pointed out the Duke in the crowd.
In the corner, the men in vests spoke to each other.
  “Did he say t’ Duke?” Black Tie whispered to his partner. “Does ‘at mean . . .?”
  “Double Delta,” replied Skinhead, he checked the pocket watch chained to his belt-loop, “that explains it.”
  “Why do you even bother to help these animals?” said Carter. “Do you think you’re one of these people, just because you’re black too? We’re better than this.”
The Duke frowned, confused.
  “Are you insane?” said the Duke, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not ‘black’. I’m nothing like these people, I’m from another world entirely; a different species. Colour is irrelevant. I am no more alike them than I am you.”
  Carter just looked confused. “What on Earth are you talking about?”
  “Exactly . . .” said the Duke, pointing towards the terrarium. “To put it in terms you might understand, I also empathize with the leprotic armadillo in that glass cage. Do you realize how confining that box is for her?”
Carter glanced at the armadillo, which snuffled and clawed at the dirt around its feet.
  “I t’ink dis endeavour’s gone bust,” said Black Tie.
  “Aye,” said Skinhead.
  “And who are you people?” said the Duke, pointing to the men in vests.
  “We’re out of time,” said Skinhead, checking his pocket watch again.
  “What are you doing here?”
  “Checkin’ up on our prototypes,” said Black Tie. “Carter said somethin’ fixed ‘em, turns out it was you . . . now dis experiment is invalid.”
  “So, you’re the ‘military contractors’?” said Duke.
  “Not exactly,” said Black Tie, reaching into his pocket. “We’re just two of the Eighty-Eight.”
  “Aye, and we ought to be goin’,” said Skinhead. “But first, we have to protect our investment.”
Black tie retrieved a device from his pocket that looked like an electric shaver, but in the place of blades, there was a circular, black button. He pressed the button, and several of the townspeople collapsed.
  “My leg! it stopped workin’!” Levi cried, trying to lift himself from the ground. More mechanical arms went slack, Ralph’s eye went dark. Spines went stiff and organs failed.
The men in vests walked to the door behind Carter.
  “Stop them!” the Duke yelled. But all of the townspeople had been disabled, or were helping one another.
  “Duke, help!” screamed Edison. The Duke turned, and saw Isaiah. He had fallen on the ground, and was going limp as he tried to breath, but couldn’t.
  “No, no no!” the Duke ran over. He scanned Isaiah with his spanner, and started adjusting it. “The crystal power core worked on a volatile circuit, that pulse cracked it!”
The Duke twisted a dial around the edge of the spanner and pressed it to the access panel, where it buzzed with green sparks. Isaiah suddenly inhaled deeply and desperately.
  “You’re okay for now,” said the Duke. He removed the spanner and Isaiah kept breathing. “That will only last for an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”
  “Thank you,” said Isaiah.
  “Is anyone else dying right now?!” said the Duke. Several others called him over, and the Duke carefully stepped over the fallen to give a jumpstart to Simon’s lungs. Then, he rushed over to Bertram, whose mechanical spine had failed him, and had hit his head when he fell. The Duke just shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m not a doctor . . .”
  “Carter is,” said Anise. The Duke’s jaw clenched as he stood up and looked at the doctor.
  “Come here!,” said the Duke. The doctor stood there, stunned, so the Duke marched over and violently grabbed him by the collar. “I don’t care if it makes you sick to your stomach! You’re a doctor, and you will help this man or, so help me sunlight, you’ll need a new spine!”
The Duke forced Carter to his knees before the patient.
  “Anyone else?” asked the Duke.
  “Nothing life-threatening,” said the preacher, holding the limp, prosthetic arm with his real one. “But what’ll we do? Are we all crippled, now?”
  “I can’t allow that,” said the Duke. “These farmers cannot work without their hands, limbs and joints; and people like Karl will die if I can’t get their organs to function soon . . . if you can keep an eye on your churchgoers, I have an idea to fix everyone . . .”
The Duke headed out the door the men of the Eighty-Eight had fled through.
  “Duke! Where are you going?” said Edison, jumping up to follow.
  “These people need a new power source for their crippled limbs, I’m going to find one. You stay here, and make sure Carter helps that man. If he doesn’t . . .” the Duke shook his head in disgust. “Make sure he does.”

The townspeople helped to lift one another off the ground, calmed each other and helped one another not to hurt themselves with the powerless, metal implants hanging off their bodies. Carter even managed to clean and stitch Bertram’s head wound, under Edison’s watchful eye, when they heard the grinding, wheezing, whirring sound of the Duke’s timeship. It was coming from the roof.
  “What is that?!” cried Dr Carter.
  “That’s Duke,” cried Anise. She jumped to her feet and ran outside. On the grass outside, she saw Lift, now a cylindrical, glass elevator with delicate, lace-like metal bands around the top and base. The Duke was standing outside, once again he was wearing his black, leather coat, and he was carrying what looked like a metre-high Tesla coil; a silver torus atop a pole wrapped in wires, sitting atop a box that looked like an alien microwave.
  “Anise, help me!” said the Duke, placing the device in the lobby..
  “What is that?” asked Anise.
  “This is what’s going to save Talladega, come and stand here,” said the Duke. Anise stepped into the lobby. “This is a wireless power generator. It can power the prosthetics, but it electrifies the air, so I need to put it on that roof. Come on.”
The Duke pointed to a hall with a small cupola on the roof. He opened the console room door at the back of the lift and walked to the console.
  “What do I do?” asked Anise.
  “I’ll fly us up, and you can put it in that little structure there,” said the Duke. “Hang on!”
The Lift door close, and they lifted up off the ground, steadily at first, but as they headed towards the hall, they tilted sideways and began to spin slowly.
  “Duke!” she called.
  “I’m trying to counter the lateral spin . . .” he said.
Anise clung to the walls as they flew over the large hall. They teetered a few metres away from the cupola, then hung in the air, slowly turning, as the Duke wrangled the controls. Eventually, they stopped turning, then the Duke started edging the ship closer.
  “Alright, put it on the roof,” said the Duke. Anise nodded and pressed the “< >” Open Door symbol. The glass doors slid back, and Anise picked up the device. It was lighter than she anticipated, but still required a lot of groaning and straining.
  “Closer, Duke!” she called. He cooperated and they manoeuvred closer. Anise lifted the device up and slipped it into the opening in the cupola. She let go and it rocked back and forth on its base before coming to rest upright. “Alright, what now?”
The doors closed and They flew back to the ground.
  “Hang on!” called the Duke, and they landed with a heavy thump! that made Anise fall against the wall. The Duke came running out the open door. “Are you okay?”
  “I’m good,” said Anise.
  “Good,” said the Duke. Then he opened the door and pointed his laser spanner at the cupola with the generator inside. It buzzed as he clicked a button, then the cupola flashed with spidery, purple sparks. There was a loud crack and fizzling sound as bright electricity flared. After a moment, the energy seemed to equalize and with a crack the visible arcs of power dissipated.
  “Is that it? Just like that?” said Anise.
  “Excuse me? It took me nine hours to build just that,” said the Duke. “But that’s nothing, the real excitement will be inside.”
The two of the headed towards Carter’s building, but before they could find his office, the crowd of Talladega cyborgs came out.
  “What happened?” asked Levi.
  “They all just started workin’,” said Isaiah. “What did you do?”
  “Wireless energy transmission,” said the Duke. “I sent my electric signal along the same wavelength as the pulse that shattered the crystal power core. Now your battery serves an antenna.”
  “ . . . what?” said Ralph, raising an eyebrow.
  “In simplest terms, so long as you remain within twenty-five kilometres of that building,” said the Duke, pointing to the hall. “Your limbs will work. I know that it’s restricting, anyone with artificial organs needs to remain, but it’s the best I could do under short notice.”
  “It’s a miracle,” said the preacher, offering a metal handshake, which the Duke accepted. “No one in town will belittle that.”
  “Just let everyone with missing limbs know, if they want to leave, they’ll need new prosthetics. Nothing mechanical. They will be crippled, but they will live.”
  “Duke, we may not understand how these limbs work, but we’re not stupid. We’ll figure it out.”
  “Alright, and don’t let anyone else use those prosthetics, the generator will only last one hundred years, then the parts will be useless.” said the Duke. Then he saw his companion with the Talladega doctor “Edison?”
The Inspector came forward, holding Carter by the arm.
  “Yes, Duke?”
  “Leave the doctor to these people,” said the Duke. “They deserve to serve their own justice.”
  “You guys should find a new doctor,” said Edison, letting go of Carter. “Preferably one who can treat the symptoms of leprosy. Then, even your ‘parasite’ will be a thing of the past.”
  “O’ course,” said the preacher, grabbing Carter with his mechanical arm, making the doctor whince. “Are yeh prepared to face your accusers?”
Benjamin Carter just seemed resigned to his fate.
  “I’m afraid that’s all we can do,” said the Duke. “The rest is up to you, so now we have to go. Come Edison; Anise.”
  “Thank all o’ you,” said Levi. “Feel free to come ‘round any time.”
  “Alright,” said Anise. “I’m glad we could help.”
The Duke smiled and nodded, then lead the three of them into the ship, and the door closed behind them. The Duke adjusted the controls to head back home.
  “Where did you go?” asked Edison.
  “Rathea,” said the Duke. “I scrounged some parts from the ruins and put them together to make a simple wireless power transmitter, then returned here, to a time after I left.”
  “Alright . . . but, there’s something I don’t understand.”
  “What’s that?” asked the Duke.
  “We came here, and we came just ran into the Eighty-Eight. Didn’t Anise enter the co-ordinates? What are the chances of that happening?”
The Duke got a grim look on his face.
  “There are three possibilities,” said the Duke, pointing to Anise. “Either the co-ordinates you entered were imprecise and the ship auto-corrected to a time that was anomalous. Or, we just got lucky . . .”
  “Pretty lucky,” said Anise.
  “Indeed,” said the Duke with a smile. “In fact, where would you like to go next, Miss Trevino? Since you haven’t lead us astray, thus far.”
  “Okay . . . could we go home?” asked Anise. “I’d like to plant my feet on home soil for a bit.”
  “Sounds like a good idea,” said the Duke, turning a dial and tapping a virtual interface.
  “Wait, didn’t you you say three?” said Edison, stepping beside the Duke. “The ship did it, we got lucky, or . . .?”
  “ . . . Or, the third possibility is that the Eighty-Eight are more far-reaching than I anticipated,” said the Duke, solemnly. “Their spread throughout your timeline could be so prevalent that encountering them at random is inevitable.”
  “Well, it’s lucky you checked up on Carter, then,” said Anise. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have actually seen them, or discovered that symbol of theirs’.”
  “That wasn’t exactly luck,” said the Duke, grabbing the ignition lever. “I just don’t trust doctors . . .”
Then the temporal engines came to life, and the Lift dematerialized with a grinding, wheezing, heavily mechanical sound as she slipped into the space between time.

Lady Lazarus

<< < Chapter Ten > >>

The Duke was taking readings at the console of the timeship, looking sprightly. The Duke was wearing an old, ornate, dark-brown duster instead of his usual black leather coat; Edison still wore his long-sleeve, grey, V-neck & Anise wore a black-and-white striped, tight-fitting shirt with little brown boots and jeans. The Duke frowned for a moment at one of the readings, when suddenly the phone rang. Anise and the Duke glanced over at Edison as he reached into his pocket and took out his iPhone.
  "How on Earth could someone be calling you here?" asked Anise.
  "Well, the Duke did patch my phone through the timeship," said Edison, glancing at the screen of his phone. "Unknown number . . . should I answer it?"
  "I'm as curious to know the caller as you are," said the Duke.
Edison tapped to answer and held the phone to his ear.
  "Hello?" he said. There was a lot of sound in the background that sounded like street-noise.
  "Duke! this is Captain Hwitwoo of the H.G.S. Gravid Heavy, requesting immediate assistance!" replied the phone.
  "One moment," said Edison looking confused as he handed it to the Duke. "Uh . . . it's for you,"
  "This is the Duke of Rathea."
  "Duke, I repeat, this is Captain Hwitwoo of the Gravid Heavy currently in pursuit of unidentified hostiles. I request immediate assistance!"
  "Captain, I will gladly assist. Where are you?" asked the Duke.
  "My comms officer is sending our co-ordinates now. How soon can you reach us?" asked Hwitwoo.
  "Twenty seconds ago," said the Duke. There was a musical message tone as the phone received a text, the Duke read the message, then passed the phone back to Edison and started twisting dials on the console.
  "Where are we headed?" asked Edison, hanging up the phone.
  "Right where we're needed," said the Duke. He pulled the ignition lever and as the column wheezed the ship began spinning through the time vortex. It was a short trip before the ship clunked, appearing on the side of the road, in the visage of a small, white delivery truck, with the words “Chateau du Rathé - est. 1811” on the side and underneath, in a black banner was the white logo of a woman chained to a rock. The two doors on the back of the truck swung open; because of the height, Anise and Edison sat down on the edge so as to step onto the sidewalk; The Duke locked the faux-freezer door in the back with the Lift key then jumped down heavily onto the ground beside his friends.
  “I don't see Heavy,” said Anise, looking around.
  “Who?” asked Edison.
  “The Gravid Heavy. It's their spaceship's designation,” explained the Duke. “We're twenty seconds early, The Captain will arrive soon.”
As if on cue, what looked like a man in a business suit with a green tie appeared around the corner and came running down the street. The Duke closed the Lift's lorry doors and waved to the ship-android with both arms.
  “Gravid!” he called. After a moment, Mr Heavy turned to see him.
  “Duke, follow us! This way, quickly!” it called as it sped past.
The three of them began running.
  “What's the situation, Captain?” asked the Duke as they ran down the footpath.
  “We're in pursuit of two vehicles; black; possibly armoured.”
  “Why?” asked Edison.”
  “The vehicles are of Earth, but their technology signature is . . . aberrant.” the ship began to run ahead and turned back to look at the trio. “Can you run faster?”
  “Don't let me slow you down,” said the Duke.
The ship sped up effortlessly and started making distance between them. Anise took a deep breath and ran faster, catching up, leaving the Duke and Edison behind. The two men just glanced at one another and tried to run faster.
  “This is America,” said Edison, glancing at the cars driving on the right-hand side.
  “Is it?” asked the Duke, idly.
  “Yeah, Miami. Look at the number plates,” he said, gesturing at the cars.
Mr Heavy turned sharply around a corner, then across the road. Anise followed closely with him, but the Duke and Edison had to pause momentarily to dodge traffic. When they finally crossed the road, Gravid Heavy was heading through the bottom door of a small, cheap apartment building with two black utility vans parked haphazardly outside with blue lights around their bonnets; Anise followed close behind him.
  “Come on!” commanded the Duke, heading for the door, but Edison grabbed his shoulder to stop him.
  “Wait, look!” he said, pointing to the top of the building. The Duke saw long, dark-brown hair belonging to a woman standing up the top of the building with her back facing the street.
  “Anise! Captain!” He called. “The roof!”
The woman's hair as well as her light, orange, floral-pattern dress moved slightly with the wind as she took a step back. Then she slowly raised her hands.
  “It's some kind of standoff,” said Edison.
Then the woman fell back.
The Duke tried to run forward, reaching a hand into his coat to retrieve his spanner. Edison yelled out, wordless panic as he tried to grab the Duke and keep him back. The woman fell quickly, and Edison averted his eyes, but the Duke never shifted. He watched unblinking as she fell to the pavement.
  “Oh . . . god!” yelled Edison as he heard the sound. The Duke then turned to him and held his shoulders to stop him from running over.
  “She's gone,” said the Duke. “Her skull is . . . she couldn't survive that.”
Edison looked up at the roof once more, and saw a stony-faced man with short-cropped hair and a combat vest glance over the edge and holster his firearm. That's when the woman began to glow. The Duke saw the green light reflecting off of Edison's face and he turned to see the crumpled body on the floor glowing like a traffic light. Then, it burst into green flames. The two of them jumped back as the verdant flames flared, gleaming hot sending out waves of heat like a furnace. Then the body stood, like a living wick within the flame, and with a whoompf, the flames extinguished, and Edison and the Duke found themselves looking at a dark-haired Phillipino woman in a slightly-singed floral dress looking a little bit dazed and very much alive.
  “No way . . .” murmured the Duke. The woman glanced up to the rooftop again, saw the military man, and started to stumble into a run, but the Duke quickly intercepted. “Stop, wait! I can help you.”
  “Get back!” she screamed. “Stop, or I'll hurt you!”
  “Listen to me, please. I know what you are,” said the Duke.
  “You . . . do?” she said. On the roof, the man with the gun disappeared from the edge.
  “Yes. I am like you as well, but we have to get out of this place now.”
 The woman didn't respond. The Duke gestured for her to follow, impatiently.
 “Who are you?” she asked, frowning.
  “The Duke,” he said. “I have to get you out of here.”
  “I'm Livia,” she replied, after a moment.
  “Alright, Livia, come with me,” said the Duke, walking over and offering his hand. “And I'll show you what you are.”
After a moment she nodded, and took his hand. Anise and Mr Heavy appeared in the doorway to the building to see what had caused the green glow.
  “Captain, we need to get out of here,” said the Duke.
  “I'll slow them down, you go,” said the ship-android. The hologram receded from its raised right hand and in one sweeping motion it shot a red laser at the four tires of the black cars, deflating them; then Heavy ran into the building once more.
  “What the hell is going on here?” asked Olivia, as the Duke lead her across the road.
  “We're taking you to the ship. I can help you from there.”
  “Ship? Duke, I feel strange . . . what do I look like now?” she asked, looking at her hand.
  “You look well,” said the Duke. “All in one piece.”
  “Good . . .” said Livia. Then she collapsed, and the Duke held her so that she wouldn't hit her head again. The veins in her face started to glow green as she lost consciousness.
  “Help me get her up,” the Duke said, and Edison lifted her legs and helped the Duke to cradle her. “We have to get to the ship, quickly.”

  “What's going on?” asked Anise as the Duke laid Livia down on the couch,.
  “She's having a bad regeneration,” said the Duke as he readjusted his brown, leather duster. He ran to the console and brought up the medical scanner. “Brain damage is tricky, it requires a lot of focussed energy, the temperature could boil her brain, so to cool it she's . . . well, essentially she's on stand-by.”
  “You know what this is?” said Edison, rhetorically. “She died and came back and you told her that you'd help because you were like her. What did you mean by that?”
The Duke bowed his head, solemnly and looked up from the console to face his friends.
  “I'm alien, Inspector, in many ways. In fact, I'm unlike most creatures in these galaxies. When you die, your life will leave you never to return. However, when a Time Lord dies - and when I die - life clings to us. It transmutes all of the dead matter in our bodies into new, living cells; then jump-starts the life cycle all over again.”
  “So . . . you can't die?”
  “Quite the contrary, I can and I will, many times. But when I do I will be rejuvenated; reincarnated & reborn.”
  “What the hell is everyone talking about?!” asked Anise, sounding flustered.
  “She fell from the roof, hit her head and died,” said Edison. “Then spontaneously combusted, and came back to life.”
  “How?” asked Anise, and she and Edison stared at the Duke.
  “It's just regenerative energy; if we die, it can activate then invigorate us once more; but before we come back to life, we change. You can't live in a rotting corpse, so we change to a new, different body every time.”
  “That’s ridiculous,” said Edison, sounding incredulous. “You're saying that you'll live forever?”
  “No. The process is imperfect - as it well should be - it's an inexact science; dangerous and unpredictable. Like with Livia, here, the process can cause damage; it needs to be treated delicately. In fact, if we're not careful she could die again, here and now, fatally.”
  “Is that why those people were chasin' her, then? With the black, armoured cars?” said Anise.
  “I have no idea; they could be the Eighty-Eight or they could be a Capitol marching band for all I know. So, for now, I'm just hoping that Livia can . . .” the Duke stopped and looked at the readout. “No way . . . that can’t be.”
  “What is it?” asked Anise.
  “There's a mutation, her organs are misaligned,” said the Duke.
  “What does that mean?”
  “Well . . . to be honest, I'm not sure. This regeneration must be worse than I suspected . . . I've never seen a green one before,” the Duke walked over to Livia and knelt down. “There's a scanner on the lower levels. Help me, we have to get her there for a more detailed analysis.”
Edison helped cradle her head as the Duke once more picked her up and all three of them headed into the elevator-lobby. It looked like the inside of the lorry, with crates all around, stamped with the logo of a woman chained to a rock. The door into the ship itself was disguised as a fridge with a sliding door, complete with the illusion of wine bottles stacked inside. The fridge door closed, then the Duke opened up a hidden panel on the side of the fridge and pressed a button. With a grinding sound all around, they 'descended' motionlessly before a voice announced: 'Geometrics', and the fridge door slid open revealing a round, silver room with a raised platform in the centre and delicate machinery comprising the domed roof. The Duke laid Livia in the center, carefully, then stepped off the platform. Automatically, the lights grew brighter and four curved, glass panels lowered down.
  “Are you sure this is safe?” asked Edison. “Last time this happened, the ship attacked me.”
  “What did you say?” asked the Duke, surprised.
A holographic, blue, wireframe cylinder appeared and a membrane of light passed over Livia, then images appeared on all of the glass panels. Ignoring the Inspector, the Duke stepped up to image which looked like a standing circulatory system; a beating heart with twisted red and blue veins in a vaguely female shape.
  “No, that can't be right,” said the Duke. “She has only one heart.”
  “Is that . . . bad?” asked Anise.
  “It is for a Time Lord,” said the Duke.
  “Maybe she's not a Time Lord,” said Anise.
  “Computer?” asked the Duke, tapping the screen. “Identify species.”
  “Species: Homo sapiens,” replied a mechanical, female voice.
  “That doesn't make any sense,” said the Duke, stroking his beard. “None of this makes any sense, why would she regenerate if she's human?”
Edison had wandered around the room looking at each of the panels.
  “What about this? It looks unusual” said Edison, stopping at a screen “Is this her nervous system?”
The Duke walked around and joined him at the screen with a green outline of a brain, connected to what looked like green wires in a human-like shape. But the image was scattered with bright yellow and orange blotches.
  “No . . .” said the Duke, stepping closer and speaking half-mindedly. “No, that's her psychical system. The way her mind interacts with the physical world.”
  “Is that stuff brain damage?”
  “No, that looks like regenerative energy, all stored in her brain. But it's chaotic . . .”
  “What does that mean?”
  “It means that someone has crammed this woman's head full of some kind of . . . some kind of pseudo-regenerative energy.” said the Duke, shaking his head. “It's diabolical.”
  “Why would someone do that?” asked Anise.
  “You mean besides living forever,” said Edison
  “It's not forever, Inspector,” said the Duke. “It's just . . . longer; but it wouldn't work for a human, anyway. This is most likely an experiment. Perhaps she did it to herself, or perhaps she’s the victim. We’ll have to ask her.”
  “Well, we can't do that when she's knocked out, can we?” said Edison
  “I'll wake her up, then.” said the Duke. “If it's in her brain, then it's connected to her mind, if I reorganize and calm her mind, then the electromagnetic energy should focus the chaotic energy.”
  “Alright,” said Edison. He stared at the Duke for a moment. “Then, why don't you do that?”
  “It's chaotic energy,” said the Duke. “It would be risky . . . mixing minds with that kind of instability-”
Anise gave the Duke a shove in the shoulder. He barely moved, but he looked insulted.
  “Don't be so chicken!” said Anise. “Y'know, for an immortal, you're a real wimp.”
  “I'm not immortal . . .” growled the Duke.
  “Whatever you say, Highlander,” says Anise with a smirk. “Now go help her.”
  “Computer: standby,”
The glass panels went blank and receded into the ceiling, then the Duke stepped up to Livia and knelt down beside her. With one hand, he pulled her into a sitting position, and with the other, he grasped her head so that both of their foreheads were together.
After a tense moment, Livia's veins glowed with a green pulse, then she opened her eyes. Immediately she flinched and almost knocked heads with the Duke.
  “Get off me!” she yelled.
The Duke fell to the side as she scrambled to get up.
  “Hey, it's alright,” said Anise moving closer. “He was helping you, we're here to help.”
  “Cuz don't need to be that close to help,” she said, holding up a hand to halt Anise. She brushed herself off, and when she saw the singed marks over her dress she sighed heavily. “What the hell is goin' on?”
  “We're figuring that out, still,” said Edison.
  “Nuh uh, no figurin'. You . . . he,” says Livia, pointing accusingly at the Duke on the floor, “Duke said you could help. You know what's goin' on, and I want to know it!”
  “I'm afraid I don't know,” said the Duke, getting to his feet. “I thought you were an alien-”
Livia responded with a snort of derision.
  “ . . . like me,” continued the Duke, frowning. “However, the scanner indicates that you're human, you've just been implanted  - or infected - with a chaotic, regenerative energy.”
  “What does that mean?”
  “It means we're still figuring it out,” said Edison.
  “But you can help us find the answers,” said the Duke. “We need to know more about you; when you first noticed this was happening and who those people are, that were chasing you.”
  “I don't know who they are,” Livia said, shaking her head. She frowned and sighed, looking sad and weary. “I just ran, y'know? I thought they were cops or somethin', they showed up at my place, thought I’d killed people. But they weren’t cops, they looked more like soldiers.”
  “Did you see any badges or insignia? Distinct colours on their uniforms?” said Edison.
  “They weren’t really wearing 'uniforms' . . . I dunno.”
  “Don't worry about that, then,” said the Duke. “When did this start?”
  “I don't know!” she yelled, frustrated. “Do you know what it's like to have someone take a spoon and stir up your brain?”
  “Yes,” said the Duke. “It's confusing, I know, but it's all there. Just . . . in different places. When did it all start?”
Livia sighed and closed her eyes, and spoke slowly, remembering.
  “I'd had a lot of bad luck,” she said. “I lost a lot of money, and my boyfriend . . .”
  “Left you?” asked Anise. Livia shook her head.
  “No, he was a criminal. He got himself - and me - into all kinds of trouble. I lost my job because of him . . . and my car. Then he died - got shot.” Livia nodded as the memories came back. “It wasn't fair he was a good guy, just not a good . . . person. I was lost, then, so I went to see the houngan-”
  “The what?” said the Duke.
  “Well, he’s like a priest. Sort of . . .” she mumbled, “I'm sèvitè, a servant of the spirits.”
  “What does that mean?” asked Edison.
  “Voodoo,” she said, shrugging. “Look, it's how I was raised. I've never had much faith in it, but it's what I know. Either way, I went to see him, and he held a little service for me. I asked if he could help me to put my life back together, and he said he could. For a while, things got better and I felt better . . . but then they took a bad turn.”
  “What do you mean?” asked the Duke.
  “I lost everything, and more; and Patrice's friends came after me . . .” she sighed. “I was cursed. I didn't know what to do.”
Suddenly, Edison's phone rings.
  “It must be the Captain,” said the Duke.
  “Of course,” said Edison, tapping to answering the phone. “This is the Inspector.”
  “This is Captain Hwitwoo, where are you?” asked the Captain.
  “We're in the Lift,” said Edison.
  “I don't understand. What is your location?”
  “Uh . . . we're in the Duke's ship. It's disguised like a lorry; we're parked where you first ran past us; we're in the back.”
  “I understand - Officer Whiyoo, set in the co-ordinates,” said the Captain.
  “Look, do you want to talk to the Duke?”
  “We will, momentarily,” said Captain Hwitwoo. “Until then, prepare for our arrival.”
The call ended with a beep.
  “He hung up on me,” said Edison.
  “Who was that?” asked Anise.
  “Captain Wee-woo. He said he's on his way,” said Edison.
  “Hwitwoo,” corrected the Duke. “What else did he say?”
  “That's it,” said Edison.
  “Well then,” said the Duke. “We should prepare for their arrival.”

After returning to the console room Anise and Livia were sitting on the couch talking while the Duke & Edison stood by the console.
  “What now?” asked Livia.
  “Now, we want to help you,” said Anise. “We're just tryin' to find out who did this to you, and who's chasin' you.”
  “The spirits did this to me,” said Livia. “When I saw René, the houngan, I begged him for help and after he called on the spirits, they cursed me to be this way.”
  “Do you think they're the ones chasing you?” asked Anise.
  “No. The Mystères aren't evil, they don't hunt sèvitè.”
  “Then who would want to hurt you?” asked Edison, sounding more like a cop than he had in uniform.
  “At first, I thought those people were from Patrice's gang, but they were much too organized to be street ruffians.”
  “Duke?” called out the muffled voice of H.G.S. Gravid Heavy. The Duke walked to the elevator door, and it opened automatically. In the 'lorry' lobby, the starship was looking around, confused.
  “In here,” said the Duke, and the starship followed into the console room.
  “Is this the same ship?” asked Mr Heavy, speaking for Captain Hwitwoo.
  “Yes, just a different shape of outer plasmic shell,” said the Duke.
  “Fascinating . . .” said the Captain. “Master Duke, I'm afraid that the hostile agents have escaped.”
  “How?”
  “They attempted to flee in their vehicles. With deflated tires they were slowed down considerably, but somehow they turned down an empty alleyway and disappeared.”
  “Gee, that sounds frustrating,” said Anise in a monotone.
  “It was quite confusing. We scanned the surroundings and there were no spatial anomalies; our assumption is that they've utilized some form of large-scale teleporter.”
  “Large-scale?” asked Edison.
  “Large from our perspective,” said Hwitwoo.
  “Oh, right . . .” said Edison, stepping closer. “I keep forgetting that you're a spaceship. You look so human.”
The Gravid Heavy stood up straight and stiff, then lowered the veil; each square voxel of the hologram flickering away to reveal the detailed, starship-android underneath, and for the first time, as the face dissipated to reveal the oval-shaped window of the command deck within the ship's head, Edison found himself face-to-face with the little caterpillars from the planet Ceris.
  “What the hell is going on?” asked Livia.
  “It's alright,” said the Duke, heading over to Livia. “These are friends of ours, I'd like you to meet Captain Hwitwoo of the H.G.S. Gravid Heavy. Captain, this is Livia.”
The Duke coaxed her over towards the little starship.
  “You're the one the agents were chasing?” asked the Captain.
Livia stared for a moment, looking scared and confused.
  “Is that little thing in there talking to me?” she asked, pointing.
  “That little thing is a captain,” the Duke whispered in her ear. “Try to show some respect.”
  “It's alright,” said Captain Hwitwoo. “Rest assured, you look as disturbing to us as we - no doubt - do to you.”
  “Thanks,” said Livia bluntly.
  “Because of your size,” reiterated the Captain. “Miss Livia-”
  “Miss D'ath,” said Livia. “Olivia is my first name.”
  “Alright. Miss D'ath, we are attempting to locate the people that were after you. They have technology beyond this planet, and - if you’re any indication - they have hostile intentions towards extra-terrestrial phenomena.”
  “I don't know who they are, or what half of that meant,” said Livia. “So, why are you telling me?”
  “Because they’ve disappeared, but clearly they're looking for you. They found you once, they might find you again, if they get the chance.”
  “So, you're here to protect me?”
  “Not exactly. Our mission is to capture the agents.”
  “You're following the bait,” said the Duke, coldly.
  “We will do what we can to keep everyone safe,” said the Captain. “And while we're within this ship, it's doubtful that they can track her. However, if she were more exposed, I'm certain that they will make themselves known.”
  “We're not putting her at risk, again. We've only just saved her from those people.”
  “Master Duke, you are here because we requested your assistance in pursuing these unknown persons,” said Hwitwoo. “Until we capture them, remove them or render them harmless, our mission is incomplete. Other concerns are beside the point.”
  “I won't let them harm her,” said the Duke.
  “She will merely be a catalyst,” said the Captain. “And we will be there to protect her. After our last encounter, we chose to retain the Gravid Heavy's vigilant, humanitarian programming.”
  “How noble of you.”
  “Nobility was irrelevant, we deemed those actions less conspicuous.”
  “I'm curious. Is there a Ceridian word for 'tact'?” said the Duke.
  “I don't follow you, Duke,” said Captain Hwitwoo.
  “If it matters,” said Livia, stepping forward. “I don't think those people, the 'agents' or whatever, I don't think they wanted to hurt me.”
The Duke slowly turned to look at her, his face one of disbelief and confusion.
  “They threw you off a roof.”
  “No, they didn't. I fell. It was an accident, I was scared and I backed too far.They wanted me to detain me. It was an accident that I fell.”
  “An accident?” said the Duke, raising his eyebrow and stroking his beard. “They were pointing guns at you.”
  “They told me I was a murderer and they wanted me to come with them. If I did as they said, I don't think they would have shot at me.” said Livia.
  “Then the matter is settled,” said Hwitwoo. “We should set up the trap.”
  “Wait, hold on, what is everyone saying?” asked Edison, from the raised platform. “Because from over here, it sounds like you want to lure out a bunch of armed military types - who, need I remind you, are armed with alien technology - with an innocent civilian that we've just met.”
  “An astute summary of our situation will not divert our determination,” said the Captain.
  “Captain, going after these people is a worthy mission, and I will help you in any way that I can. But can you assure me that she won't be harmed.”
  “They don't want to hurt me,” interrupted Livia, sounding annoyed. “And even if they did, I don't know if you've noticed, but every time I die I come back.”
  “Not every time,” said the Duke through gritted teeth, and turned to look right into Livia's eyes. “Only twelve times. Being given more than one life does not make any individual lifetime less precious, unless you haven't noticed you're not a juvenile. You regenerate as a grown woman, and since you're human that means you return with only half a life, or less. And what if they use the transmat to steal you away? What if they torture you? Dying isn't the worst thing that can happen to you, Olivia D'ath. And for all we know, they might want to scoop this power out of your brain and use it for themselves, and then you'd die for a final time. You’re not invincible, you’re not even immortal, you just have a dozen second chances.”
  “I want to help,” said Livia, stubbornly. “What the hell else am I gonna do? They know where I live, and I don't have anything left for me. You want to take all of this risk for me, well it's my life - lives . . . don't I have the right to fight for them?”
The Duke narrowed his eyes slightly, with a furrowed brow, as he stared at her, but he didn't say anything for a moment, instead he just nodded and whispered: “You're right.”
  “Alright, then. We should get started; raise the veil,” said Captain Hwitwoo, and in seconds, the exposed ship-android was covered with the lifelike hologram of an English businessman with a green tie. “Where should we set the trap?”

The Lift, still in the visage of a compact wine truck, vworped through reality to appear parked on the side of a suburban street. The back doors opened and Livia slipped down onto the ground from the back of the truck while the crew stood within the interior.
  “I wish I could get a change of clothes,” muttered Livia, brushing some of the ash off her dress, which was slightly singed around the edges, with some holes burnt around the stomach and skirts.
  “You're fleeing a hostile force, it's appropriate to look a little tattered,” said the Duke.
  “Do you think René will be safe?” asked Livia, looking across the street at the priest's house. “I'll come quietly, so they won’t hurt him, will they?”
  “I'll be with you,” said the Duke. Then the Duke jumped down from the back of the truck and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I'll do what I can to keep everyone safe.”
  “Won't you make them suspicious?”
  “You ran away with me,” said the Duke. “It makes sense that we'd stay together.”
  “Okay,” said Livia, and she started walking.
  “Stay hidden,” the Duke said to his companions, then he joined Livia as they crossed the street.
  “Your van's parked backwards,” said Livia.
  “I'm used to the United Kingdom, I usually land on that side of the road,” said the Duke dismissively. “Livia, I want you to be honest with me.”
  “I am,” said Livia. “I haven't lied.”
  “Yes, but you haven't given voice to all of the truths either, have you?” said the Duke, glancing at her as they stepped up on the curb, and he halted her, with a hand on her shoulder, turning her to make her look in his eyes. “How did you die the first time?”
  “Does it matter?” she asked.
  “It matters to me,” said the Duke. Livia looked at the Duke, then she looked at her feet.
  “I killed myself,” she said, quietly, almost a whisper. “I'd lost my boyfriend, I’d lost my new job and those guys were coming after me for money, I didn't know what I could do.”
  “Oh, Livia . . .” murmured the Duke, with a frown.
  “I went into the bathtub, but we didn't have any razors . . . I-”
  “Hush, now,” said the Duke, wrapping her in his arms. “You don't have to relive it.”
  “But I do . . .” she said with a sniff, her voice quivering. “It all went black. Then it all glowed green, and I woke up on fire. And now I have to relive it all over again.”
  “And the rooftop? It wasn't an accident, was it?” asked the Duke. Livia shook her head.
  “And are those the only two occasions on which you've died?” asked the Duke.
  “No . . .” said Livia. “I didn't do it, though. when Patrice’s boys showed, they didn't recognize me, but they saw the blood and thought I'd killed . . . well, me. They shot me.”
  “Livia, I want you to listen very carefully to me. My companions and I are here to help you, to capture these people that are after you. I don't want you to compromise this mission for my friends and I, or the Gravid Heavy's crew. So, be perfectly honest with me: If this is some kind of death wish, inform me now and we will stop this right here.”
  “No, no, please,” she said, sniffling and shaking her head. “It's nothing like that. I just want to help. I'm okay, really, I want to see this through. I don’t want to burn again.”
  “Good,” said the Duke, with a stern look on his face. “Then let's do this.”
They stepped up to the front door, decorated with wind chimes, colourful beads and a sign which read 'Miamian Vodou Temple - Father René'. Livia rang the buzzer.
Meanwhile, in the back of the truck-shaped Lift, Anise and Edison were watching, intrigued.
  “I don't get it. Why would the agents find her at her priest's house?” asked Anise.
  “Because they found her at her apartment,” said Edison. “So, surely, they'd be monitoring where she’s been known to frequent, like the pub, grocery store, mother's house or place of worship. If I was looking for her, that's what I'd do, so hopefully they'll be keeping an eye on this location, and her presence will lure them here.”
  “How long should that take?”
  “Don't worry,” said Mr Heavy, “It shouldn't be too long. It wasn't last time.”
The front door opened and a short, elderly black man stood before the pair of them. He opened the screen door and stepped out, looking a little confused.
  “Can I help you?” he asked, with a French accent..
  “Yeah,” said Livia. “René I know it's weird, but I came here over a month ago, do you remember?”
  “I swear I've never set eyes on you before today, my dear,” said René.
  “Please,” said Livia, looking a little saddened. “René, it's me . . . I've come here over a dozen times. I came here because my boyfriend had died, Patrice Meunier? I wanted a better life.”
  “You must have me confused, I'm afraid,” said René, shaking his head. “I'm not the only houngan in Lemon City.”
  “Please, René. It's me: Olivia D'ath.”
René stopped and stared at Livia with a deep frown.
  “Liv . . .?” he said, and after a moment, his eyes went watery and he shook his head. “You're not her.”
  “I am, René, I need your help.”
  “No, get off my property,” said the old man, making a sweeping motion with his hands, as though to shoo them away. “Liv died weeks ago. She was shot by a gang of punk kids.”
  “I know. I was shot,” said Livia. “But I came back, because of something you did.”
  “Please, Father, listen to us,” said the Duke. “We would like your help.”
  “I didn't do anything, and I don't know who you are!” said the old man, sounding angry.
  “Not directly,” said the Duke. “But some kind of psychical presence has imbued her mind with a powerful, alien energy.”
  “I haven't done anything to you people; I'm no bokor, just a priest. Now leave me alone, or I will call the police.”
  “No! Father René, please!” cried Livia. But Father René slammed the door closed and locked it.
“No, come back!”
  “Livia, stop,” said the Duke calmly, grabbing her shoulders.
  “No!” she yelled, trying to shrug him off, but he was too strong.
  “We came here to draw the agents to us. If they're watching us, they'll be here soon.”
  “I want to know what he did to me!” she said, pulling away.
  “He doesn't know,” said the Duke. “He's human, he couldn't have done this himself.”
  “Then who?” said Livia, her voice full of emotion. “Who would do this to me?”
  “Livia, look at me,” said the Duke, and he spoke again only when she looked into his eyes. “We are here on a mission, to find out the truth. If you want to help me find the answers to your questions, you need to calm down.”
Livia took a breath and nodded. Down the end of the street, two black SUVs suddenly screeched around the corner, and sped down the street towards them, each with blue lights flashing along either side of the windscreen.
  “That was quick,” said Livia, a little shocked.
  “Transmat. Fastest way to travel,” said the Duke.
As the cars pulled up in front of the house, the sun shone off the shiny, black bonnet such that the name engraved on the front fender was visible: TORCHWOOD.
  “Put your hands up!” yelled a man in a camo-patterned uniform with a crew cut as he stepped out of the car, pointing a pistol at Livia; the Duke recognized him as the man from the rooftop. The Duke held his hands out in front of him, palms out, while Livia rose her arms above her head.
  “Who are you?” asked the Duke.
  “Lieutenant Wallace Knight,” said the man, with a heavy Londonian accent. “Who are you?”
  “I'm the Duke of Rathea,” said the Duke, as he spoke a strong-looking Greek man walked around the side of the car. The Greek man wore an unbuttoned white shirt, over a black singlet and jeans; he had a bronze tan, scraggly brown hair down to his chin, hidden under a white baseball cap that obscured his face, a beard and was muscled like a wrestler. As he stood before the Duke & Livia, the Greek pointed a weapon at Livia that at a glance looked like a mechanized, purple cobra.
  “Step away from the girl,” said Wallace.
  “I'm here to protect 'the girl', stepping away wouldn't be counter-intuitive,” said the Duke.
  “We won't harm her if she comes quietly.”
  “That would be more convincing if you lowered your weapon,” said the Duke.
  “If I lower the gun, will you step away?” asked Wallace.
The Duke considered this for a moment.
  “Probably not,” he replied.
  “Haitch, shoot him,” said Wallace.
As the Greek man turned his gun on the Duke, the Duke dove to the side, reaching into his coat. He landed on his side on the grass as a short bolt from the snake-gun shot over his head, hitting the house and sending spidery sparks of electricity crawling over the surface. The Duke pulled out the laser spanner, and clicked it, making the end fizzle with a purple spark. Instantly, the snake-gun recoiled, snapping shut and turning off. Seizing the moment, Wallace lowered his gun, ran at Livia and  grabbed her as though in a tight hug, but a white light enveloped them and with a dull hum, they were enveloped by a white flash and teleported up and away. The Duke scanned the spot with his spanner, when the Greek man holstered the weapon on his belt and ran over to the Duke. With one hand, he grabbed the Duke's collar and pulled him to his feet.
  “Why do you defy us?” asked the man, in a deep, throaty voice. “Do you worship the false gods?”
  “I worship no man or god,” said the Duke through gritted teeth. “Now get your hands off of me!”
Over the man's shoulder, Duke saw the Gravid Heavy run over, and throw a full-strength punch at the man's right kidney. The man flinched slightly, then spun and slammed the Duke into Mr Heavy, throwing both of them back. The Duke landed on top of the starship, over five metres away, the surface hologram cushioning his landing.
  “He is stronger than his physique would imply,” said Captain Hwitwoo as the Duke stood up and after adjusting his brown duster-coat, offered a hand to help the ship up as well, but Mr Heavy ignored the Duke's hand. “Duke, did you analyze that teleporter?”
  “I did, the Lift's computer can follow it.”
  “Good,” said Mr Heavy. Then, blasting the manoeuvring thrusters mounted on his shoulders, he returned to his feet. “We'll subdue the strongman, you follow Livia.”
As Mr Heavy returned to the fight, the Duke ran back to his ship.
  “What happened?” asked Anise, helping the Duke step into the back of the truck.
  “Livia's been taken, but I scanned the transmat beam,” said the Duke, leading them into the console room and looked at the nearest panel. “The ship should be calculating their position . . . yes! They're not too distant . . .”
The Duke adjusted a holographic screen, relayed the co-ordinates into the navigational panel, walked over to that octant of the console, checked the position and turned to his companions.
He pulled the ignition lever.
With a clunk, the the centre column began shifting and the ship groaned, wheezed and spun around slightly as they dematerialized and flew through the vortex. As quickly as they'd left, the Duke returned the lever and they landed with a dull thud.
  “Where are we?” asked Anise.
  “We appear to be in orbit,” said the Duke. He peeled away from the console and headed for the door, but stopped as he approached the door. “It's probably dangerous out there. Brace yourselves.”
With that, Edison drew his gun and Anise took a deep breath. Then, the Duke lead them out of the console room, through the Lift lobby and opened the doors. They had landed in a huge room with round, metal panelled walls that glowed with an orange light within horizontal recesses and a shiny, black floor. There were four round doorways leading out along one half of the round room with wedge-shaped sliding doors. However, despite the look of the alien cargo hold, the room was full of Earth vehicles: Two SUVs with popped tires & a blue motorcycle.
The Duke jumped down from the Lift, and headed for the only open doorway, Anise and Edison close behind. They stepped out to find themselves in a curved hallway that seemed to wrap around the cargo hold, with archways, doorways and walkways leading off.
  “What will we do when we find Livia?” asked Anise, whispering.
  “We'll try to get her back safely. If we do, you can lead her back to the Lift. The Inspector and I will try to find out more about these 'Torchwood' agents,” said the Duke, softly.
After a moment, they heard voices, and the Duke followed the sound a short distance to another doorway, this one closed. There was a white, slightly translucent stone on the archway which bordered the door, and the Duke pressed it. The doors slid open, revealing Lieutenant Wallace, Livia & a brown-haired woman in a business skirt and jacket, in a room lined with prison cells made of some kind of glass, so they looked like large shower cubicles around the edge; some of them weren't empty.
Wallace turned to the sound and when he saw the Duke he drew his weapon.
  “Get her out of here!” Wallace ordered, and the brunette grabbed Livia's arm and walked smartly out of the room heels clacking against the floor before closing the door behind them.
  “Drop the gun!” yelled Edison, pointing his gun.
  “Disarm yourself or you'll regret it,” added the Duke, pointing his laser spanner.
Wallace looked back and forth between the two of them, then dropped his gun and kicked it to the side of the room, in front of a cell occupied by a wrinkly, alien in a blue, plastic jumpsuit without a nose, with fangs in an ape-like mouth, little beady eyes and no hair.
“There, that's much safer,” said the Duke.
  “Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that,” said Wallace with a smirk, and suddenly his eyes dilated and turned black. he hunched forward, grunting; then he stood up straight and made a disturbing cracking sound. He writhed and groaned, throwing off his vest and shirt as his grinding and snapping bones transformed him; his mouth and nose grew outward and his ears pointed, all while he grew fur over his body.
Edison fired his gun twice, but even as each shot hit centre mass, the beast merely flinched as though being flicked with peas.
  “What's happening?!” yelled Edison.
  “He's infected with an alien parasite,” said the Duke, as he adjusted his laser spanner. “I've seen it before. Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform.”
  “He's a what?” asked Anise.
  “He's a werewolf!” yelled Edison in disbelief, as the beast took shape. Now a metre taller, it arched its back and howled at the ceiling. Then it turned its black eyes on the other three in the room, snarling and drooling. “We're dead, aren't we?”
  “No, we're not dead, Inspector Edison. I have a laser spanner,” said the Duke matter-of-factly, holding up the device pointedly.
  “A spanner? Well, so what?!” asked Edison as the creature began to advance on them, closing the distance, ready to pounce.
  “So, 'laser'; it can project light,” said the Duke, adjusting it further. “All kinds of light: Laserlight; hard light; infrared light . . . even moonlight.”
The Duke pointed his spanner at the werewolf, and projected a pale, blue light onto the creature's face. Where the light touched, the fur and physique receded and became human once more, the Duke waved the light back and forth, burning away the wolf.
  “Alright, run!” said the Duke, grabbing his companions, and they ran past the stunned looking Wallace as the wolf-form began to reassert itself. The Duke used his spanner to open the door, the lock it behind them. As the infection crawled up his chest, Wallace glanced, stunned at the door the Duke had just left through.
  “How in the hell did he do that?” asked Wallace, then the wolf took over his face and roared with fury.

  “What the hell is going on?” asked Edison.
  “I don't know,” said the Duke, leading them down the hallway. “But that man was infected with an alien parasite and his other friend was stronger than his physique should have allowed. Considering that Livia, has also been experimented on with alien energy . . . whatever Torchwood is, it's rife with alien influence.”
  “With that and the bald monkey-man in there, this place feels like some kind of freakshow, collecting up alienated weirdos,” said Edison. “ Wolfman, Strongman, Apeman . . . Immortal Girl.”
  “We can't rule out any possibility,” said the Duke, as he turned a corner and lead them up a set of stairs, “Perhaps we'll know more once we find Livia.”
The Duke kept ahead and opened the door with the laser spanner, revealing a tall room. To the far left was an alcove surrounded by windows which looked down on Earth from space, in the alcove was a man in a plaid shirt sitting in a study chair in front of a console panel covered in runes. In the middle of the room stood the brunette in heels alongside Livia who was in handcuffs, and to the right sat a little alien with grey, mottled skin; a big head; skinny arms & large, black eyes with a small, metal device where its eyebrow would have been. The creature was sitting at a desk console like some kind of Roswellian secretary. There were several more people working at consoles off to the right past the holographic screen.
  “Director, the intruders have breached the command deck,” said the grey alien, speaking in a soft, wavering voice. “Should I teleport them away?”
  “Not just yet,” said the brunette in a calm, dignified voice. She held a shotgun low her hip, pointed at the three intruders and pumped it once. “I don't think they're going to misbehave.”
  “We're just here to help Livia,” said the Duke.
  “You're not alone in that respect,” she said. “But your rap sheet of damaging our property, assaulting my staff, invading this office and hindering our every move has yet to impress me.”
  “Impress you,” said the Duke, holding his hands in front of him. “From my perspective, she's died once in your care, she's safer in my hands than yours.”
The woman raised the gun to her shoulder in a proper shotgun stance.
  “Wait, stop!” said the man in the plaid shirt. He was a short Asian man with an American accent. “Heather, I know these people.”
  “You do?” she said, giving him a sidelong glance and a raised eyebrow.
  “Yes. These people rendered the alien technology at the Mauna Loa facility inert.”
  “Steven?” said Anise, shocked.
  “You know him?” said Edison.
  “Yeah, so do you. Don't you remember? Hawaii? We were trapped in that freezin' office with the cyber-rats.”
  “Oh yeahh . . . Steve. Steve Hatchy-patchy or something . . .”
  “Hajikoma,” corrected Steven.
  “Yes, that's right. You look different without the lab coat.”
  “You look different without the police vest. Heather, these were the people that discovered the cyber-tech in the first place.”
  “Can they be trusted?” she asked.
  “I don't see why not, they saved the planet.”
  “Well, how about that?” said Heather, finally lowering the shotgun. “I do apologize, we were taking precautions. You can't be too careful where alien phenomena are involved. Loki, bring our boys up here, will you; we're at a ceasefire.”
  “Of course,” said the grey alien, adjusting his console. “Lieutenant Knight is terrorizing the hallways.”
  “I'm the Duke of Rathea,” said the Duke. “But I still don't understand, why is Steven here? What is this place? Why do you want Livia? And why is there an Asgard at the front desk?”
  “Yes, of course. Allow me to introduce Loki, our science officer. You know Steven, and you've met Heracles and Wallace our tactical officers and front-line agents. In the back, there's Judith and Sugar, our researcher-medic and mechanic, respectively,” she said, gesturing past the holographic screen with the shotgun, while still pointing it safely towards the ground. “And I'm Director Waterhouse. Welcome to Torchwood Four.”
  “You may trust us, but I'm not sure if I trust you. Why did you come after Livia?” asked the Duke.
  “That's our job,” said Heather, “we investigate alien phenomena and resolve it so that the people of Earth can be safe. Whether that means capturing alien criminals or saving those afflicted by alien influence.”
  “And the guns?” said Anise.
  “We took necessary precautions to ensure our safety,” said Heather. “Before witnessing the spontaneous combustion for ourselves, we thought that a serial shapeshifter was killing, burning and replacing several female victims. We didn't realize that all of the victims were the same person; and even then, we didn't know whether she was hostile.”
  “Well, I'm not,” said Livia, sounding annoyed that she was being talked about and yet ignored. “Do I really need handcuffs?”
  “We'll remove them if you're willing to co-operate; as soon as Wallace manages to cool off, he has the key on his belt.”
  “Alright then,” said the Duke. “I'm glad that we're all on the same side, here. But there's still the issue of how to deal with this energy in her head, and who put it there.”
  “We're still working on that. But that's why we're here, there's a scanner in the aft section of the bridge.”
  “I've already scanned her. It's some kind of pseudo-regenerative energy.”
  “But you didn't scan her with my equipment,” said Loki, stepping out from behind the desk. He was half the Duke's height, and two-thirds the height of everyone else. “And with a superior intellect we should easily find a way to remove the foreign energy.”
  “Superior intellect?” said Edison, clearing his throat.
  “Of course. The Asgard have dealt with mental infiltration of this manner before. Follow me.”
  “Why does every alien seem to think it's smarter than us?” Anise whispered to Edison as they followed Loki into the lab.
  “It's better to let them think that,” Edison whispered back. “It might come as an advantage one day.”

Livia hovered parallel to the ground, suspended in the air with one of Loki's devices, which looked like four large claws reaching out of the floor, with a large orb suspended above, connected to a series of twisted wires in the ceiling. Anise and Edison spoke with Steven Hajikoma and the other two members of staff: Judith Nevins, a short woman with a ponytail, a slight hunch and a cane & 'Sugar' Brown, a black mechanic from London; Steven was explaining what had happened in Hawaii and how Torchwood had picked him up from the hospital after he'd told them about the alien technology there. Meanwhile, Loki and the Duke were discussing the scanner data while Heather oversaw everything.
  “The foreign energy, and her own neuro-electric signal are intertwined,” said Loki, looking over the complicated image on the scanner, which looked an infinite electrical circuit.
  “Well, it's part of her brain and what keeps her alive, it would have to be connected,” said the Duke. “It must be a powerful psychic force. The question is how do we separate her from it?”
  “Can I come down now?” asked Livia.
  “Oh, yes, of course,” said Loki, and shifting one of the stones on the control panel, Livia was turned upright and she returned to her feet. As Loki returned to analyze the image, a voice came through the room, through unseen speakers.
  “Loke? This is Wallace, do you read me?”
  “I hear you, Lieutenant,” said Loki, after pressing a button on a nearby panel, replacing the image with a live video feed of Wallace from the shoulders up. He was topless and looked out of breath.
  “We have a big problem down here. One of the weevils has escaped containment.”
  “Could you capture it yourself? We're indisposed at the moment,” said Loki.
  “No. That's the thing, Loke, it's armed, it got my Browning.”
  “Alright. Join me on the command deck. We're here with the intruders, they've been classified as unhostile.”
  “On my way,” said Wallace, and the intercom went silent.
  “What's a weevil?” asked Anise.
  “They're a kind of alien vermin, they look like a skinny, shaved ape,” said Heather. “They're not very smart and can't really communicate, but they can be fast and vicious when they want to be. Where's the spray?”
  “I've got a can,” said Judith, standing up and limping over, with a canister in hand. “They've never used guns before, Loki, can you find its heat signature?”
  “Now, there no need for all that, I'm right here,” said a guttural voice over by the doorway. Everyone turned to see the noseless, wrinkly alien walking up the steps into the command centre. He held Wallace's gun in one hand, although both hands rested at his side; its eyes were a bright, crimson red; but, most unusual, he spoke with a heavy, Cajun accent.
Every other gun, spray canister and laser spanner in the room was raised and pointed at the intruder.
  “Stop right there!” commanded Director Waterhouse, raising her shotgun.
  “Cool your head, putain, or I'll switch it off,” said the weevil. “Ain't ya'll havin' a good time?”
  “What are you?” said Waterhouse. “Weevils don't speak, and their eyes aren't red either.”
  “God damn, tuat t'en grosse bueche,” muttered the alien, and he swatted at the air. Instantly, the shotgun was ripped from the director's hands and thrown across the room, clattering harmlessly behind the weevil.
  “It was you,” said the Duke. “You're the powerful, psychic force?”
  “Aw shucks,” said the weevil sarcastically. “I won't say 'powerful', but I'm mighty sharp.”
  “Why did you infect Olivia with this alien energy?” asked the Duke.
  “She asked fo' it,” said the weevil darkly.
  “I didn't ask for this!” cried Livia.
  “No? You call on me t'fix your life. I did, in return all I ask for is prayer, and you to pledge Patrice' remains afore Fête d'Ghede,” said the weevil, stepping closer and gesturing emphatically. “That day come, I got neither, so I come take it back and make you pay.”
  “So you think you're here to pass judgement?” asked the Duke.
  “I'm here to get what I is owed, nègre!” growled the creature. “I am the Baron, and my judgement is final!”
  “She's suffered enough,” said the Duke.
  “Oh, has she?” said the Baron, sarcastically. “L'pute learn her lesson? Because to me, it look like she bein' saved by a flock o' white knights who don't know what they're doin. How is she gonn' learn, if you're tryin' t' take away my lesson? I make her suffer so much, she wants to die, and I make her so she can't die, now that's clever . . . but then you couillon come, give her hope; raison de vivre. And that just ain't sufferin' . . .”
  “You did all of this to make her suffer?” said the Duke, angrily. “That's sick!”
  “Naw, that ain't sick. This is sick.” The Baron held out the weevil's empty hand towards Livia. Her veins flashed green, and a stream of green, glowing energy, floating like smoke, left her body and went into his hand. It took a few seconds as a steady stream of slow, green fire flowed from her to him until there was none left.
  “What happened?” asked Livia, as she stood up, looking at her hands.
  “It appears he's taken away the alien energy,” said Loki.
  “Hold on, I ain't done yet,” said the Baron. He raised his other hand, with the gun. Bang!
A bullet went through Livia's heart, the wound bleeding quickly, staining her burnt dress.
  “Livia!” Anise shrieked, running over to help her.
  “No!” yelled the Duke.
The weevil smiled, then the red of its eyes faded and it dropped the gun and began snarling like an animal. The Torchwood agents ran to stop the weevil and return it to its cell, while the Duke ran to Anise and Judith Nevins, both of whom had knelt down beside Livia to help her.
  “Well, that sucks,” said Livia, her voice full of emotion as Anise helped to prop her up. “And I thought things were finally getting better.”
  “You're losing a lot of blood,” said Dr Nevins, compressing her chest. “I'm surprised you're awake.”
  “We can help,” said the Duke. “I can get you to the ship, there should be medical supplies.”
  “No, please . . .” said Livia. “Don't. I'm sick of running around, trying to solve this. You can't solve this.”
  “Don't lose hope,” said Edison. “I've seen worse, you can make it.”
  “I need you to stay strong for me, and we can fix this,” said Nevins
  “You can't,” said Livia. “Did you know I was a black girl? Haitian and proud . . . now I'm going to die looking like some stranger. I don't even know who I am anymore.”
  “I'm sorry,” said the Duke.
  “Don't be sorry,” said Livia. “Just be . . .”
Livia exhaled deeply and didn't inhale.
  “She's lost consciousness,” said Dr Nevins. “She's so warm . . . wait, get back!”
The Duke got to his feet and Edison grabbed Judith's arm to help her get to her feet as Livia's veins glowed red, then suddenly burst into flame. The fires weren't green, but natural orange and burned quickly. The Duke rubbed his hands over his bald head as he watched her burn.
  “Duke, what do we do?” asked Anise as she stood up, her eyes welling with tears.
  “I don't know,” said the Duke quietly. “I'm a duke, not a doctor . . .”

After the Torchwood agents had managed to get the weevil back in the brig, they returned to find Livia's burnt remains on the floor.
  “We'll handle it,” said Heather. “We're used to cleaning up this kind of mess.”
  “Thank you,” said the Duke. “My friends and I will be leaving now.”
  “Where are you going?” asked Heather. “You could stay. We would learn a lot from one another, and that powerful, psychic energy is still out there.”
  “You do things your way,” said the Duke, glancing at the shotgun across the room. “I do things mine.”
  “Well, do stay in touch,” she said, and she held out a business card with two fingers. Edison stepped forward and took it from her. “It's nice to have a useful ally that knows you exist.”
  “Likewise,” said the Duke, and he walked down the hallway towards his ship, his friends following behind him.
  “Where are we going now, Duke?” asked Edison.
  “Away from here,” said the Duke.
  “Why? Can't these people help? Maybe they can help us find the Eighty-Eight.”
  “Not today,” said the Duke. “Today, we're leaving.”
They entered the cargo bay and walked around towards the back of the Lift truck.
  “But why?” said Edison.
  “Because I've lost enough for one day,” said the Duke climbing into the truck.
  “You can't keep running away,” said Edison.
  “I'm not running away!” growled the Duke. “I'm moving forward. To stay would be running away from my duty, to help others and to find the Eighty-Eight.”
  “Her body's not even cold, Duke,” said Edison.
Anise let out a sob and stormed past the two of them into the console room.
  “Anise!” called the Duke, running after her.
He entered the Lift to see Anise leaning against the console, crying. she started twisting dials, pressing buttons and entering random co-ordinates.
  “Leave!” she screamed. “Let's just whiz away in your magic box and pretend it didn't happen!”
  “Anise! Calm down!” yelled the Duke, he marched over to pull her away, but she turned and started pushing at his chest.
  “Get away from me!” she screamed, angry tears rolling down her face. “We all lost her, Duke! You can't decide how we deal with it!”
  “This is better,” growled the Duke through gritted teeth.
  “How is running away better?!” shrieked Anise.
  “Because I've been there before!” yelled the Duke. “Over twenty years ago, everyone on my planet died! All at once, gone. And I stayed then, I mourned then! I thought I was honouring their memories, mourning the peoples I had lost, but all that happened was I stayed and for so many years, I was lost and alone, on an empty planet . . .”
  “But what about her?” said Anise, her voice quieter, but still broken with emotion. “She suffered so much . . . I don't even understand how she felt.”
The Duke sighed heavily, and glanced at his shoes for a moment.
  “I know what it's like . . .” he said.
Edison said nothing, but he took a few steps closer, and looked at the Duke. The Duke looked at him and back at Anise.
“The day my people died, there was an explosion. I don't know who fired the first shot, but it was devastating, and spread. I couldn't do anything but sit and watch, I was so tired . . . it came and washed over me too. I barely had time to scream, it was pure agony. When I woke up, I looked like this.” The Duke rubbed a hand over his cheek.
  “You were killed?” said Edison.
  “I let myself die,” said the Duke. “I never raised the shields. I didn't see the point, if my people were going to continue suffering, alone.”
  “Oh, Duke . . .” Anise ran forward and grabbed the Duke in a tight hug.
  “That explains that speech before,” said Edison off-handedly. “Every life is precious, even if you are immortal.”
  “I'm not immortal, Edison,” said the Duke, cradling Anise. “I can only regenerate a dozen times. it's finite.”
  “Still. You get twelve lives.” said Edison, sounding indignant.
  “Thirteen, plus the first life,” corrected the Duke. “But that's an absolute maximum. As I said, it's unpredictable and I will die every single time. I'm not immortal, Inspector; I'm undead.”
  “Damn . . .” said the Edison, rubbing the back of his head as he processed all of it. “Wait, so, if you've regenerated before, then what were you like before? What did you used to look like?”
  “I hope you never have to find out,” said the Duke, and he looked at Anise in his arms. “Are you alright?”
  “I will be . . .” said Anise with a sniffle, hugging him tighter. “Just don't let go.”
  “Alright,” said the Duke, and he pressed a button on the console, closing and locking the door to the lobby. “Then hold on tight.”
The Duke reached over and pulled the ignition lever, and with a thump and a groan, the time machine whirred and wheezed into life and dematerialized; whisking off to times unknown.