Saturday 9 June 2012

Trail of Crumbs

The story so far...

Our heroes (the tall one, short one and fat, bearded one) have been fed, then transported by the one bus driver of the apocalypse to help an, as yet unknown, person or persons in distress.

As we rejoin them they are sitting on the floor in an impenetrable supernatural darkness. They have already discovered the floor has the single word HELP inscribed in it.

"OK, let's stand up, link hands so as we don't loose each other and try to find something," Roth suggested.

"Hopefully that something might be a light switch," added Eolist ruefully. “Or, possibly, a nice cup of coffee.”

"Yes, this dark is really tiring on the eyes," I said.

Roth reached out in the darkness, holding Eolist's right hand and I holding her left. This was a slow way of searching but the best we could do since it didn't look like assistance was going to turn up soon. Most of the time it was less like exploring and more like stretching a small person.

"I can feel something. It's big and curved. Partway up one side is something. It's like a hoop sideways," said Roth. "It feels like it's made of ceramic - really smooth. And warm."

"Can you smell something?" Eolist asked.

"COFFEE!!" we all said at the same time.

"I think this is a giant coffee cup. It's as tall as me!" exclaimed Roth, although he was probably exaggerating.

We moved around until we could each feel the cup ourselves.

"Who would have a cup of coffee this size? Have we been miniaturised?" Roth mused.

"Yes," said Eolist.

"You have!" Roth and I said together.

"There is only one place this is likely to exist," I said, "The one place in the multitudes of universes and through the breadth and depths of space and time where such a thing could exist.”

“Could you possibly be any more long-winded?” Roth interrupted.

“I think this exists in Eolist's imagination."

"Hmm. Interesting. I've read about this somewhere before." She paused. “They've really built one?" asked Eolist.

"I think so. We're in an Imagination Powered Spaceship," I said. "If it is I’m sure the three of us shouldn't be allowed within miles of one."

"How do you control it?" asked Roth.

"By holding a clear image of what you want in your mind. But it's unstable, a slight deviation, distraction or inconsistency and we're in trouble." I said, re-iterating what I too had read. “Try not to think about really deep mineshafts with spikes at bottom."

"So, if we're going to get out of here, rescue the person from whom the notes are from and get back home, we need to get ourselves a ride. Let's all focus our minds," suggested Roth.

The darkness began to lighten, shapes were visible and began to focus. Distinctly odd. Circular openings. White walls and floor. In the middle was an octagonal console.

"The TARDIS!" I said. "We all thought of the TARDIS?"


"Well, with one of these we could get anywhere," Roth justified the choice made by our imaginations.

"True, but there is a bit a of a problem here."

"Yes, none of us know how to fly one," Eolist caught the essence of my argument.

"OK," said Roth, "Let's concentrate again."

The column in the octagonal console began to rise and fall - nice touch I thought - before fading to darkness again. In front of us a screen appeared. It showed the stars and below the Earth. There was a captain's chair. Everything, but everything, made bleeping noises.

"The Enterprise NCC-1701. Not bad at all," I looked around some more, and I was very impressed as to how detailed our imaginations had been. We were even dressed for the occasion. Eolist was in blue, I was in gold and...

"I'm in RED!!!" Roth picked at his top. "Dammit, I'm a dead man."


"OK, we still have the problem of flying this thing," I said, ignoring Roth and his red uniform.

"I'm not so sure. On the console here is a big red button marked GO with a note underneath saying Help. Desperately need your help.", Eolist informed us.

"Go on press it. If there is a big red button, someone has to press it," I encouraged her. It was an unwritten rule of science fiction that if there was a big red button someone has to press it.

The Enterprise went to warp. The noise of the engines was truly impressive, with an ever growing whine, and the star-field on the main viewing screen streaked past us.

We had little to do but wait until we arrived. The Enterprise was on auto-pilot to a destination none of us knew. This was a puzzle - everything here was from our imaginations, but the destination and the note for help came from somewhere else. Who was leaving messages in our imaginations?

“I’m going to explore,” I said and walked towards the exit from the bridge which slid open with a satisfying whoosh. “I've changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Which one of you thought of the mineshaft? It's just outside that door.”

Before we could get to the much needed attribution of blame, the Enterprise dropped out of warp. The stars stopped streaking by and it seemed we were in orbit around a small red planet. A voice spoke over the bridge speakers. It said, “I need your help. Please beam down to the planet below.”

This time when we went to the exit from the bridge, there was a turbo lift, not a mineshaft. Someone somewhere was forcing our hand. Manipulating us, first blocking the exit then letting us through to get to the transporter room.

We arrived on the planet. It was all rocks, red soil and pink sky.

“Be careful everybody,” Roth said.

A single shot rang out and Roth fell to the ground. Eolist ran over to him and checked his injuries. “He's dead Jim,” she said.

Is Indigo Roth dead? If he is will the takeaway pizza industry survive? Is this the completion of the bus driver’s prophecy? Will he find being dead an issue, or just get on with things as before?

12 comments:

  1. This story just gets better and better!

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    1. Kato, thanks muchly. I'm hoping I don't screw up the conclusion.

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  2. Replies
    1. Who can tell? Shouldn't go down to a planet wearing a red uniform, it's a bad idea.

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  3. i wonder if perhaps we should both think of a Genesis planet - and a nanny...

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    1. If he does Tunguska Trek III: The Search For Roth, I won't forgive him.

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    2. Now there is an idea. NOOOOOO! I'm trying not to do the "stodgy middle episode". I have some ideas. I promise you it will not be what you expect.

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  4. Yowzah. That is some imagination. How fun! Good Job Dr. Max. May I call you Dr. Max? heh heh

    AND... I fixed by blogroll... you're THERE and updated! Whoo-hoo! *smile*

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    Replies
    1. Always happy to answer to anything other than oi you?

      Thanks for the blog roll update.

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  5. Great choices, but...umm...why did you leave the TARDIS exactly?

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    1. We thought you needed a timelord to fly a TARDIS. However as it turned out we'd have probably got a big red button...

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  6. I can not believe Roth fell victim to the curse of the red uniform :(

    *lights a candle*

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Comments are always appreciated