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Go to ...
Phase III
Chris jumped. It had seemed a fun idea, to set HAL as his 'new mail' sound, but it did keep taking him by surprise, especially when Über Doomed Egg had been playing silly biddles with his volume settings. "OK, HAL," he mumbled to himself. Hmm, no subject. Annoying. Double-click. Hmm, no message either, it appeared. He looked testily at the 'From:' line, to see who was being so inept. The address seemed familiar, somehow, though he couldn't put his finger on why. Odd. He looked it up. [hermes.cam.ac.uk: jda25]
Hermes couldn't put its finger on it either, it seemed. Most odd. Oh well, hermes did do things like that from time to time. If it was important, they'd be back in touch. Back to work... An IRC chat window opened. "Oh, fish," Chris complained. What did people want now? What people, indeed? Apparently 'jda25' wanted to chat. Oddness in abundance. Well, maybe this would help solve the mystery e-mail... jda25's user information: Or not, as the case may be. Very well. "Your e-mail was blank. Please give me your message," Chris typed. MESSAGE IS AS FOLLOWS. IT IS DANGEROUS TO REMAIN HERE. YOU MUST LEAVE WITHIN FIVE REPEAT FIVE MINUTES. Chris looked at the screen with annoyance. He felt sorry, and surprised, that anyone in MethSoc (who else could it be?) had such a childish sense of humour; this was not even a good schoolboy joke. But he would play along with it in the hope of catching the perpetrator. "That is absolutely impossible. Tripos commences twenty-six days from now. MethSoc needs prodding. I can't just leave." I AM AWARE OF THESE FACTS. NEVERTHELESS YOU MUST LEAVE WITHIN FIVE MINUTES. Otherwise, I suppose, we'll be attacked by little green aliens with seventeen eyes who know how to fly, or minature clones of David Bellamy. But I'd better play along. "I cannot take this warning seriously unless I know its origin. Who is speaking to me?" I WAS DAVE. Chris stared at the screen for a long time before making his next move. The joke, which had never been funny in the first place, had now gone too far. It was in the worst possible taste. Everyone knew about the episodes following last Easter's TBM, about the hours he'd spent in counselling, trying to get the mysterious 'Dave' persona out of his psyche. Well, this should fix whoever was at the other end of the conversation. "I cannot accept that identification without some proof." I UNDERSTAND. IT IS IMPORTANT THAT YOU BELIEVE ME. LOOK BEHIND YOU. Even before that last chilling sentence appeared on the screen, Chris had begun to doubt his hypothesis. The whole exchange had been unboundedly odd. And now - he felt a prickling in the small of his back. Very slowly - indeed, reluctantly - he turned around in the creaky college chair he always suspected was going to collapse under him, one of these days. A rabbit. FOLLOW THE WHISKY-COLOURED RABBIT. The rabbit - which was indeed whisky-coloured, or so Chris would have guessed from his limited experience of that beverage - lolloped across the room, under the chair, past the didgeridoo, and nosed at the door Chris had never been able to persuade College to find a key for. QUICKLY. The sound of feet pounding up R staircase came to his ears. On an impulse, Chris leapt to his feet, crossed the room, pulled at the door handle. The door fell open, and Chris tumbled inside, followed by the rabbit. As he dragged the door shut behind him, two men in black suits, wearing dark glasses - sunglasses, inside, choh! - burst into his room and began shooting at things. Then everything went black.
It was a surprisingly bare room; simply a shower, a mirror and a door. He stood up, partly because of curiosity to find out where he was and partly because he was being dripped on by the shower. He decided to try and straighten out his hair before going through the door into whatever wonders lay outside. He looked into the mirror, but instead of seeing just himself, he also saw a tall manic man, about 21 years old, who grinned at him. "Hello Chris." "Who..?" "I'm Dave. Good to see you after all this time." Chris made a move to swing round and look the apparition full in the face. "Don't turn around, they don't know that I'm here and I haven't got long." "Dave..? You mean..." Dave smiled. "Yes, you were right all along. But first let me bring you up to speed. It was in May 2003 where we unveiled The Book, our portal into the World of Fiction. However things went wrong, there was a malevolent force trying to control fiction and the upshot of it all was that I piloted a fictional TARDIS into a rift between reality and fiction causing myself to be written out of existence and Time to revert to a point before I had a significant impact on the timeline. "Thus The Book was destroyed, fiction was left alone and untampered with and should be left so. However just as my TARDIS closed the dimensional rift, I was able to beam out through the Eye of Harmony and what I found is quite interesting. But now I must leave; time is against me. We will meet again, nevertheless." The image of Dave turned and began to walk away. "But wait! What do I do now?" The figure turned and smiled wryly. "Through that door is the way back into your reality. Be always alert however, as the enemy whom you came across in your room is now trying to find me. I exist within the minds of Methsoc now and yet I do not exist." Another wry smile, although a ripple of pain and memory flickered across it. "When I was in your reality, there was a great nuclear war, but I suppose that has been avoided now that I have never existed. Anyway, goodbye Chris." With that, the apparition faded away. So there was a Dave! Just wait until the other members of Methsoc heard about this... But what of the Enemy? Chris reached down to the door handle, turned it and stepped through the door, shutting it behind him. Dr. Saxl looked up from his desk. "Ah Christopher... you are here for your supervision, yes?"
"Are you OK, Chris? You look like you've been sitting under a cold shower." Chris suddenly realised why Dr. Saxl had regarded him in such a half-contemptuous, aloof and disparaging übermathmo sort of way. "Oh. Wombat. But I have some very, very important news!" Benedict looked up from his chair, and interrupted reproachfully: "You do realise that I'm going to have to move you from 'Apologies' to 'Present'? And I'd nearly finished the illuminated initial for your name. That means the only apologies are from... oh." "What?" asked Janet. "It's a tradition of MethSoc Secretaries since Time Immemorial," said Martin, "that the apologies are always headed by, well." he glanced nervously at Chris, "it's a kind of joke, as though we always expect him to be here, coming to every Committee meeting ever. " "What? Who is he? If he's in the Minutes, you won't mind telling me that. And why are you so edgy?" persisted Janet. Benedict wordlessly handed her the last meeting's Minutes, fully copied up and illuminated on best-quality parchment. The discussion of Retreat pictured a group of MethSoccers running away from a dark-suited figure. The location, Caius, was marked by a surprised-looking bird (labelled "guinea-fowl" to assist its self-recognition) sitting on a plate. But at the top, under Apologies, stood one, all-too-familiar name: Dave. Janet swallowed, remembering the stories she'd heard about Chris and the Name We Do NOT Mention. She found herself, with everyone else, turning to stare at Chris, who was beaming happily. "It's Dave", he said. "I've, well, not exactly spoken to him, but seen him and chatted with him." There was an absolute silence. You could have heard a gibbon drop. "He's in this alternative reality, and he talked to me. There was this fictional Book and he piloted a TARDIS into a rift there, but he got out! Dave exists and he's got rabbits! And we're probably in big trouble." An entire banana plantation of gibbons could have rampaged through Emma, even disturbing the ducks, and nobody would have batted a belfry. They just stared at Chris. Tim eventually broke the silence. "I think you should have a nice cup of tea, Chris." The spell seemed to have broken, and amid a babble of voices Chris was ushered into a chair, forced to sit, and made to drink some tea, though he seemed more interested in eating the tea-bag directly. A hasty conference between Kim, Carys and Nick agreed that Chris would be seeing someone to help him very soon. Mark and Martin were saying how sad it was that Chris should suffer like this, and perhaps he could be exorcized, using Mikie, Hymns and Psalms... but there wasn't a candle handy. Tom and Steven muttered words like "ridiculous", "tragic" and "he's finally flipped." Chris stared into the mug dejectedly. He'd thought that they would believe him, but it hadn't worked. He sighed. Perhaps he was just imagining it. But it had all seemed so real this morning. He must have said the last sentence aloud, as Benedict had heard him, and began repeating "Morning", to himself with pauses, before adding the odd "Evening Henery" in a strangely shaky voice. Odd really. It was utterly silly, but it somehow... fitted. It was right that Benedict should say that. But something was missing. Something important. In the distance he heard Kim suggesting that they close in prayer very quickly, and then get Benedict packed off back to Girton before he started laughing evilly or doing anything dangerous. "And don't let Dave near any knives!" added Carys. She seemed very surprised when everyone turned to stare at her. She was even more shocked when she realised what she just said. "Did I just say that?!" **********************
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this, Carys." Before she knew what he was doing, she found herself pinned to the chair, and attached to Chris. Acknowledging the job well done, the rest of the committee returned to their places. Mr Cooper had something under 'AOB' - a long presentation about the various committees he was involved in. Janet, normally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at these affairs seemed to have glazed over in expression and seemed to be twitching alarmingly. Chris said something about being possessed, but Carys told him not to be so silly, and to help her get loose. Chris shrugged "All is doom" and gave up. MattV and Carys got more involved in their discussion, and failed to notice the fact that Janet, who had been following and minuting, had gone rigid and suddenly threw her pen accross the room, where it exploded. "That is it! I've had enough of this. I cannot let this go on." Pause. "Well I could actually, but lets ignore that possibility." Pause. "Anyway, you have to leave Cambridge. Now!" "Janet" "I'm not Janet, you fool" "Matthew 7" "5. I am Dave" And the room exploded in a flash of light.
"Where are we?" asked Carys, bewildered by the lack of the strait jacket and the fact that she was now hovering in darkness. Chris fought back the desire to ask the whereabouts of Kate. A voice drifted over the scene. "Welcome to N-Space. I'm sorry to have brought you here like this, but Janet's resistance meant that I couldn't bring you here subtly." "Who..?" "Dave. Yep, me again." "But... but... where *are* we?" asked Martin, trying not to suffix "And where are my genetics notes that I was going to annotate later?" "N-Space! I had to remove you all from space and time and drag you into this universe or else you would have all been caught." "Caught?" said Chris with disbelief. "Is this the Enemy again?" "Watch." Everyone turned instinctively towards a vision of Martin's room, charred slightly from the guns and appearance of men in black suits and dark glasses. "You mean they were coming for us?" "Yes. You are all in great danger, they know that I've been in contact. Now I must drop you all back into ordinary space; N-Space is nowhere to stay..." "Hang on, what *is* N-Space? Where is it?" The astrophysicist in Chris was starting to show. "Nowhere. It's short for null space; it isn't anywhere because there's nowhere for it to be... Never mind. You can't see me, because I've created the space around you like that and I am not here. Nor have I ever been." "I'm confused," put in Kim. "But what happens now? What do we do?" Matthew Vernon was getting slightly bored of this whole escapade. "Hmmm... the trouble is, when I revealed myself in your reality, they were able to find me. I've now got to hide until I can find a way to stop them. Listen: I'll send you back to your world. Be ever alert to the danger; they will stop at nothing to find me and crush you. Do you see that box over there?" They all once again instinctively looked at a small, mahogany chest. "In there you will find weapons that you can use against the Enemy. They will only be slowed down, but that's all I can do. Now go through that door over there, before I'm found and -" Suddenly silence. Omnipresent silence with a hint of malice. "What's happened?" whispered Janet. "I don't know, but quick, we need to get out of here! Martin, pick up that box and let's go!" They ran.
"It's wonderful to be able to welcome you all here," Peter said. The rest of the Wednesday bible study group at Wesley rather dumbfounded at having half of MethSoc fall into the Upper Room through the stained glass window (which oddly enough had remained intact) along with a mahogany chest which had opened spilling carefully wrapped presents accross the floor. "Well ... erm ... sorry, can't stay..." replied Chris. "We were just ... watching videos in the Aldersgate room," claimed Martin. "And then the pan fell off..." added Benedict "Oh, bother it all ... bye!" cried Mark as the group of them stumbled out and accross to the Aldersgate room, Martin gathering the presents back into the chest. "Well, they don't look like weapons to me and I should know." Benedict was rooting through the presents in the chest. "I wonder where mine is?" "Hang on, hang on," said Martin, in his best Scout leaders' voice. "Let's deal with this sensibly. Now Janet..." ... some time later ... "Whatever kind of use is a rubber duck named Gordon going to be, and why does he have a key attached?" Martin was staring at the said duck with a mixed look of confusion and affection. The look of confusion was fairly prevalent. Barring Benedict's axe and chainmail shirt everyone's weapons were a little strange. Mark was left holding an ornately carved shepherd's crook, Carys a can of worms (unopened), Steven Cooper gazed in wonder at volume 1 of the Agenda to Methodist Conference, as Janet staggered under the weight of volume 2. Kim, a parrot named Polly sitting on her shoulder, was watching Chris pull a wet haddock (feeeesh) out of it's wrapping and Tim held a whale shaped bowl of petunias. Matthew Vernon clutched his bull whip, a look of glee in his eyes. "Erm ... yes ... well ... he was always a bit strange ... Dave," said Chris, the wet haddock leaving a spreading damp patch on his shoulder. "There's still a few left," said Martin. "There's one for Mikie, one for Matthew and a couple of others without names on. So what next?" "Well perhaps we should find Matthew and Mikie and give them theirs?" Suggested Kim. "Matthew only lives a short distance away." They wander out of Wesley and down Maids Causeway. Unbeknownst to them, a slim shadowy figure follows behind, which itself is being tracked by a rather less slim and shaddowy figure, which fortunately had some means of hiding its presence, since an Angel is rather difficult to hide at the best of times.
Allow me to explain. I have three pairs of wings, that are typically invisible to the naked eye. They work by creating a field which the brain compensates for and fills in with what it thinks ought to be in that space - basically it imitates a hemioscotoma. Quite handy then, given the un-svelte nature of my corporeal form. Not that I'm a human of course. They think I am, but there's a reason I haven't paid my membership, and it's not just because of my aversion to committees. I'm not actually human and therefore not really meant to be here. I tend to swerve at will, usually between fiction and 'real-life', but there are other things that I'm able to do. One of them was to annoy Dave, when he existed in this plane. Others - well, I'll leave it to the imagination. So I'm left to follow this shadowy form that is of indeterminate origin, certainly male and probably some weird form of Dave. And yes, I am obsessed. He is going to return...
* * * "Is he going to be in?" asked Janet as they neared the door. "Of course, where else is he going to be? Wesley photocopier?" Martin reached for the door handle and rapped a loud knock. As the door swung open, they were confronted by the sight of several men in dark suits. One raised a gun and spoke in a clear, calm and quite calculated voice, "Good evening. We've been expecting you."
"How did he know about that?" Kim whispered to Chris, who had raised his eyebrows somewhat. "Oh never mind, I'll explain later. So who was for tea?" Matthew interupted. * * * Eleanor turned the corner into Brunswick Terrace, confident that she'd managed to successfully fool the psi-form behind her that, not only was she a man, but that she'd continued down Maid's Causeway and was currently turning into the Grafton Center. You didn't get to the position of Chaplaincy Assistant without some power, and as far as she was concerned, she had plenty. Certainly enough to make a step up the ladder, and the Chaplain was getting on a bit... Curse that Dave for stopping her before. She couldn't help feeling that he was at it again in some way, though she wasn't quite sure how. She arrived outside house 11, but didn't stop. She'd felt something, something she'd felt before. More psi-forms, and these ones dangerous. She'd not noticed Lost and Found around for a while, and her plans weren't formed well enough to take them on yet. Perhaps she ought to try and find some help. Eleanor turned on her heel, the only sign of such movement being the bending of grass by the front door, and strode off to Caius college. * * * "Yes, thankyou Found, I felt her presence also. We will no doubt have to deal with her at some time. But not yet, we are not ready. Now where were we?" Matthew was now sitting with the rest of the group in his room. "Well, Dave had given us these presents, and sent us back, and there's one for you," said Martin in reply. He threw the wrapped present at Matthew. "But we still haven't got a clue what's going on." "Oh, well it's all very simple of course. The Chaplaincy Assistant is going to try and usurp the Chaplain's seat once again, sending the many planes of reality into chaos," replied Matthew. The rest of them didn't seem convinced by this explaination. "Uh?" said Polly. Kim looked at her rather quizzically "Don't be silly, how could that possibly happen. They're not that important you know," said Carys. Mark nodding. "Perhaps their power is veiled in this world, but you have just touched upon one of the many of the other planes of existence that surround us. And some of us have different powers in different planes, something that each of you are no doubt going to learn. Now what has Dave given me I wonder?" Matthew started to unwrap the present on his lap. "Oh, erm. Well he always did think he knew better than the rest of us..."
She also forgot to keep an eye out for higher order psi-forms, which made my job a lot easier. MethSoc were safe enough with Lost and Found about - they're thick as a couple of Mountain Trolls, but they look good, and can fire theta beams fairly accurately. Previous, on the other hand, is rather intelligent, and good for a game of scrabble when he feels like it. Although he *really* hates losing. I really should tell him that sending the board into N-space is bad manners in certain circles. Previous was closing in on her, so I left him to it. The last thing I saw was Eleanor limp and lifeless, being taken into custody. No one was underestimating her this time, and I could have sworn there were a couple of dementors hovering around. If she moved more than a foot, she got her soul-sucked. I turned my attention to the window, where all I could hear was Polly cooing over Matthew's present, which was a ...
"It's a book," Benedict said, finally. Vague memories of large tomes with unusual properties were as far from anyone's mind as it was possible for them to be. The volume in question was a battered paperback, which Matthew regarded with some puzzlement and more than a hint of surprise. Tim stared at it; Carys frowned, pensively; and Chris looked positively bewildered by the whole thing. "Why did we just spend several minutes being dramatic over a second-hand copy of 'A Brief History of Time'?" Steven Cooper asked, not wishing to ruin the mood of confusion by saying anything even vaguely explanatory. "I think Dave's trying to tell us something." Matthew was halfway between amusement and resignation. He indicated the large yellow Post-It note attached to the front, on which was scrawled a single word in large, black, untidy letters. 'WRONG!' It said. He flicked through a few pages. Equations had been crossed out and replaced with newer, more complicated symbols that Chris peered at excitedly before the page turned again. Little notes had been jotted in the margin, and even small diagrams had even been drawn in the spaces between the paragraphs. "This could be a whole new theory of the Universe," Chris exclaimed. Matthew Vernon shook his head, grinning slightly, although that was possibly the effect of the bullwhip he still held in one hand. "I don't think that's a new cosmology," he pointed out. He indicated one of the diagrams. "It's a picture of a kangaroo with a very large knife," Benedict observed, gleefully. Martin sighed. "I think I'm beginning to remember some things about Dave," he commented, to anyone who was listening, but only the parrot seemed to hear him.
It was still unnoticed when his phone rang 5 minutes later. He rolled over, reached for the phone and answered it. Hearing the voice on the other end he became alert immediately, and ran down the stairs; saying "Eleanor, you say. Serious. I'll be there immediately." He pulled on a coat, and bike lights, and set off into town - causing distress to a few pedestrians in the process.
* * * Eleanor grinned. A neat double bluff there. Convincing Them that she thought she was fooling them and all the time turning into the Grafton Centre after all. Masterful! Ah, the Master, yes...how drole...! She was slightly surprised no-one had drawn attention to the appearance of an extra shopping mall - she must thank Slartibartfast for the SEP field generator next time she was out End-of-the-Universe way. Of course, They had Eleanor. But now she'd pretty much perfected core-dump replication, that wasn't really going to be a problem. Now, to get to Caius on time... * * * "Book!" squawked Polly, pecking at the frontispiece. "Book!" "Shush, Polly!" cried Kim, snatching the book away from the parrot before it could do any more damage to the already-battered volume, which had somehow fallen under the bed whilst Chris attempted to explain his new Theory of Most Stuff, Anyway (as extrapolated from Dave's annotations of Stephen Hawking's magnum opus). Kim brushed the dust off, and inspected some claw-marks on the back cover. As she did so, she became aware of a kind of scratching noise, apparently coming from inside the book itself. She opened it. The noise got louder. Flicking towards the back, it increased in volume. "Appendix A," she read to herself, "Violations of CP-symmetry. Appendix B, The Life of Galileo Galilei," (Skip some rather odd comments on Cardinals,) "Appendix C, Isaac Newton," (Skip some more very colourful commentary on Trinity mathmos,) "Appendix D, The MethSoc Story, Phase 3..." * * * On the bench outside Great St Mary's, a small, bearded figure stopped and tried to remember if he'd come out on his bike, and if so where he last saw it. He was completely oblivious to what was happening above him, which was a shame, because amongst the gutters and gargoyles of Caius, a figure moved about, as College Regulations absolutely forbade it to do. Climbing to the top of the spire, it stood - rather shakily - upright, then, finding its balance, spread a pair of black wings, made a noise a bit like an empty chess club, and swooped silently down on the city below, like a carbonaceous snowflake... * * * Kim gingerly gingerly turned the page. "Chapter 1: Deus Ex Biddlus. 'There is a message for you...'" she began. She stopped, then on impulse jumped forward to the very end of the book. It was blank. She flicked backwards. More blank pages. At the first (or rather, last) non-blank one, she stopped. The sound of scratching seemed overwhelming, though apparently everyone else was far too involved watching Chris argue with Mark about the role of Athanasian Tranforms in Theonic Field Theory to notice. "Everyone else was far too involved watching Chris argue with Mark about the role of Athanasian Tranforms in Theonic Field Theory to notice," Kim read. "'Everyone else was far too involved watching Chris argue with Mark about the role of Athanasian Tranforms in Theonic Field Th...'" She slammed the book shut. The sound of scratching was still faintly audible. "Fish! So much for Eschatological Invariance," Chris opined. Abigail the Haddock blinked at him from the flower-vase they'd hurriedly put her in on arrival at Brunswick Terrace. Then swam up and down a bit. No-one else had noticed the book. Meanhile, in his bathroom, Matthew finished reading the instructions on how to re-assemble the cistern of his toilet for the fifty-seventh time, before deciding they probably weren't going to be much use in concocting a plot to inform MethSoc he'd been ambushed and replaced by a shape-shifting imposter. Downstairs, with the rest of the Committee (and hangers-on) arguing about whether Angels had integer spin, Kim reckoned if she peeped into the Appendix quickly enough, she could shut it again before the book noticed, thus getting a glimpse of any other developing plotlines without everything going into a flurry of self-reference. Slightly to her surprise, this plan actually worked, but what she read gave her several more causes for concern...
Which is why he is presently being forced to live in another dimension temporarily. Strung up by his toenails, and being tickled with feathers, by a variety of naked women. This was not too much, considering that his self-absorption had meant that one of the most dangerous women in existence (FCVO "existence") was now on the run, and interfering with other peoples' computers. I'd arranged to meet up with the minor delta-form: code-name Trinity, and was watching as he inexpertly wove his bike rather too rapidly towards me, oblivious to the fact that his lights were rather dim. "I thought the first rule of being a psi-form was to be inconspicuous, and the first rule of being a delta-form was that change first appears at quantum levels," I asked Trinity. "It was. Unfortunately it appears that Kim has opened the book, and changes are being wrought at a far greater rate than we have previously experienced. She's seen exactly what Matthew is, which is most unfortunate, but can't be helped." "Me?" I hate to be self-centred at times like this, but sometimes one is sufficiently critical to the plot to warrant an enquiry. This probably wasn't one of those times. "You're safe," replied Trinity. "And has anyone seen Eleanor?" Both Trinity and I failed to notice the falling carbonaceous snowflake, until it was too late.
Unfortunately, being somewhat unpracticed at telepathy, Steven was too engrossed in his efforts to realise that he had started screaming at the top of his lungs. Rather putting paid to all attempts at subtlety, the only saving grace of this was that it provoked as much confusion as attention. While most were making earnest efforts to get through to Steven and shut him up, Martin noticed that Matthew's reaction was different, rather more impassive. Now was not the time for in-depth reasoning. Martin knew that something wasn't right, and he acted on instinct. Focussed sharply on Matthew, he grabbed Benedict's battle axe. Things were now moving in slow motion for Martin, and the adrenaline was surging. But as he turned to bear down on Matthew, things didn't get any easier, as darkness rapidly fell outside, and the window shattered...
Matthew took a step back and looked pleased with his work. Stopping time is always a difficult skill to master at the best of times but to combine it with a removal from time and space is something fairly special. Now all he needed to do was shift back into his original form and take their minds, as he knew that some fragment of Dave would be still hiding inside the collective mind of Methsoc. Shifting forms is a noisy operation, as skin dissolves and reconfigures, bones click in and out of place and so forth. Matthew's change was similarly loud, meaning that he didn't hear the bleeping coming from one of the unnamed packages until it was too late. The atoms of his now amorphous body split apart and all that was left was a small puddle where he used to stand. Another set of beeps from the package as it burst open to reveal a small envelope. A further, longer beep and the various members of Methsoc returned to the normal continuum of time. Martin swung the axe down on the chair, splitting it neatly in two. He quickly let go and dashed to the other side of the room, looked shocked and embarassed. "What just happened? Where's Matthew gone?" asked Tim. "'Kim screamed, and promptly stopped. The glass fragments from the windows hung in mid-air like crystallised raindrops suspended in time...' From what it says in this book, we've been taken out of time, but saved from some mind-absorbing alien or something that wanted to find Dave in our collective consciousness," said Kim after a few moments' thought. "It also says there is a package with an envelope around here somewhere." "Yes, got it," said Chris. "There's a letter inside. It reads: 'Dear Methsoc, You've got this because I thought they might try something like that. You'll find the real Matthew upstairs somewhere probably getting quite bored. I configured that device such that if the area in which it was was taken out time and space it would trigger and destroy any non-terrestrial life in the vicinity. I take it someone is now a puddle in the room.'" At this point Chris looked over and saw the remains of what had for some time been Matthew and also saw similar ones outside the door where Lost and Found had been. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued: "'Now, this means that something is still drastically wrong. If you have had to read this, that means that something's probably happened to me. I've been trying to avoid them for as long as possible, although if I've done something stupid like take you into N-Space before now then I deserve what was coming to me, really. That's the good thing about writing letters to be read far in the future, you can berate yourself in advance for stupidity... Nevertheless, the machine will have activated a beacon. Help is on its way and it should help you return to the normal space-time continuum. Remember your gifts, I collected them for a reason. I hope that they won't turn out to be necessary, but keep them with you just in case. Did you like the book by the way? Sorry, I got sidetracked. Anyway, be ever wary, they can strike at any time. Now though, help has arrived!' "What does he mean, 'help has arrived'?" They looked, quite instinctively, towards the door where materialised a small bearded figure. "Mikie!" cried Janet.
As he passed Christ's college he felt a shifting, then an immense pain which caused him to veer into the centre of the road. His last thought before the bus hit him was regret for his fellow delta. He was thrown backwards; memories flashing before his eyes: discussions with previous chaplaincy assistants, the Agreement, the passing of coded messages at MethSoc Coffee; then hit the ground with a dull thud and passed out. The Ambulance arrived within minutes.
'We can explain everything, just sit down and have a cup of tea,' replied Kim. He did, and they did. 'Blimey,' said Matthew. 'And then Mikie arrived.' 'Yep, and just in time it seems. I think Dave was right when he thought you all needed looking after. It doesn't help that Angel seems to have just been wiped from this plane of existence, at least for now, and Eleanor is still at large. Now let's see, what was I supposed to be doing next?' Mikie scratches his chin, and looks rather bewildered. Chris and Abigail share a look of something between despair and amusement. 'Well there's a present for you here,' Martin suggested, hoping to rescue Mikie who had now started murmering 'coffee' under his breath. 'There is? ... coffee ... Where? I suppose that might be important. I really do need some coffee you know. Yes. Erm, wrapping paper of doom...' Moments later Mikie was sitting on the floor, his eyes slowly regaining their shine, what clamed to be 'An indefinitely large bag of chocolate coated coffee beans' sitting in front of him. 'Hmmm, that's better. Right we'd better be off.' * * * Meanwhile Trinity was trying to explain very nicely to the Paramedics in the Ambulance (who incidently were wearing black suits and sunglasses) thay he was '... fine, thankyou. Yes, really. No problem. I'll just be going now then' and that he didn't need to be shifted into the rather boring Ward dimensionality for eternity (at least in that plane of existance) in order to recover (or not). They didn't really seem to be listening though, so he decided to just open the doors of the Ambulance and walk out. Needless to say, leaving an interplanar vehicle in between two existances is not really a great idea. In fact it's quite a bad one. And for the second time in not-very-long Trinity blacked out and dreamt of a rather scarey, gowned Dr Saxl swooping down from the roof of Gonville and Caius College attacking Angel and himself.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!? Where are you taking me?" Angel roared. Dr Saxl was not interested in her protestations. "Where the hell are you taking me!?" Dr Saxl patiently maintained their course.
He hoped this would appease her for the time being. Angel was fuming.
But, sure enough, though not in a true spirit of appeasement, she could see that she wasn't going to get any more response from Dr Saxl, so she tried to relax. Thunder and lightning raged.
*** Eleanor, meanwhile, was delightfully aware that Cambridge was but lately free of the burden of active psi-forms intent on thwarting her plans to take over the chaplaincy. (That this usurpation, if successful, would send the many planes of reality into chaos really did frightfully little to deter her in her resolve.) For the time being at least, only MethSoc could stand in her way, and she knew it. Taking this moment to relax a little, and feeling a bit peckish - understandably, after the stresses of the day so far - she went to Sainsbury's to buy some food, and a chocolate milkshake. It was about five o'clock. *** "Hang on a minute," said Matthew Vernon just after MethSoc had left Matthew's house; "don't we rather need some kind of a plan?" "Ah yes. A plan," mused Benedict, unhelpfully. "A plan?" Martin said. "As in, making some kind of a decision?" "Ah. Hmm," thought Mikie. "MethSoc isn't very ept at making decisions," said Kim. "No," Matthew added. They stopped, and wondered what to do, somewhat daunted by the prospect of having to come to some kind of consensus on where to go next. "We could go to the pub," suggested Chris. "Err, how about we take a look at what the book says?" suggested Steven. "Ah, ok," said Kim. She opened the book, and read Appendix D from where she'd left off. "It says that Angel has been taken away by Dr Saxl, and they're flying North; and there are no psi-forms left in Cambridge, so there's just us standing in Eleanor's way in her plan to usurp the chaplaincy, and Eleanor knows this." "Ah, that sounds bad," said Mark, woefully. "I'd have thought she's probably coming to get us in that case." "Hmm, I have an idea," enthused Steven. "If we can prove that Eleanor is hatching a plan to usurp the chaplaincy - say, with the aid of that book - then we probably have grounds for a complaint about her to the principal of Wesley House, or even the Chairman of the District. I think it says something about the procedure in one of the reports in this Methodist Conference Agenda." Janet's eyes lit up. "I knew it would come in useful sooner or later," she said. However, some of the others were less than convinced with this idea. "I really don't think there's time for that," Mark insisted. "I mean, who knows what Eleanor's up to right now?" "Well, she's in Sainsbury's, getting some food," said Kim. "It says so here." "Ah," retorted Mark, "then to Sainsbury's we must go!" And, without further ado, so they went. Pretty impressive for Methsoc, but, doubtless foolish at the same time. *** After being flown through the frigid wind and clouds by the scruff of her neck for about an hour, Angel's mind had begun to wander. In fact, she almost didn't notice as Dr Saxl swooped down into a network of underground caves, and came to land within a large, though not uncosy, cavern. The cavern was partially illuminated, the light eminating from an alcove containing a desk with a desk-lamp thereon. "If you will excuse me," said Dr Saxl, "I have some further work to do," at which point he left the slightly fazed Angel there, and promptly took off and disappeared back out of the cave. And there was silence. Angel was picking herself up, pulling herself together, wondering what was going on, when, calmly, the Master emerged from the alcove. Angel, slightly overwhelmed, spoke to him. "Peter." "It's good to see you, Angel," Peter Graves replied, though somewhat standoffishly. "Err, yes, thankyou sir," responded Angel. "Though, sir, why have I been brought here? Where are we, in fact?" "Let's see. Where shall I begin?" Peter began. "I have a problem; some problems, even. In fact, let's not pull any punches here: You may have the best intentions, Angel, but, frankly, you're getting in my way." "But sir," stumbled Angel, "I'm simply doing my job. I'm acting in your interest. As you know, Eleanor is plotting to usurp your seat as chaplain, sending all the planes of reality into chaos. It is my job to ensure this does not happen. Of course, I fully understand that you have your own interest in setting out to stop Eleanor; but this is my duty, as mandated to me and my associates by the council. "Come to think of it, where's Trinity?" "He'll be alright," Peter assured her. "However," he sternly continued, "I'm afraid to say, my dear Angel, that you don't quite know the half of it. "Eleanor is the least of my concerns." Pause. "My main problem is David Ault." "But Peter," Angel replied, "Dave, really, is on your side like me. I know it's more than a little annoying the way he's interfering with all this, but ultimately he's just trying to stop Eleanor too." Peter reflected for a brief moment on what Angel was saying, before himself continuing, "Oh, if only that were the case. But, unfortunately, Dave killed three of my operatives earlier this afternoon. And with good reason, I suppose. They were, after all, trying to kill him." Pause. "You see, Angel, Dave knows something that you don't. Something about me." There was silence. "I don't understand," said Angel, with a new-found sense of chilling alertness. "No, indeed you do not," quipped Peter, "but very soon - and perhaps to your displeasure - you will." Silence again. Angel was now feeling sick in her stomach. "Peter," she asked again, "where are we?"
"Aren't you worried that I might turn against you?" "It would be just as much to your detriment if one of the new incumbents grew too powerful, after all, you're on the road now." "True, true." "And I'd owe you a big favour if it did happen." "Indeed. OK, then, I accept." "This might feel rather strange." Trinity reached out, and shook Claire's hand. It did feel strange. Ring Ring Within the Box that Dave had given Methsoc was a mobile phone. Not an exciting one, but a phone never the less. Its display changed from reading "Orange" to "Claire Taylor", and it started ringing.
"Somehow I knew this would happen," came the voice from the other end of the line, "and so I warn you now; do not approach Eleanor. There are powers of chaplaincy assistants of which you have no idea. You must find the weakness; look for the sign." She hung up. ***** Peter didn't reply, but moved backwards into the half-light in the cave. The walls around her were bare rock, the smell of erosion, decay and aeons of grime permeated her being. She shivered once more and repeated, "Peter, where is this?" "Perhaps it would be better if I added some sound." He raised his hands and immediately the sound of wailing, terror and despair filled her ears. Above all of this though a loud, terrible voice, like the low, despondent knell of a funereal bell rang out with the terrifying words, "Birmingham New Street, this is Birmingham New Street." Angel gasped in horror. Peter held up his hands and all went silent once again. "This is where it all began, here in Birmingham. It is here that the anomaly causing Dave has to be shut down for ever. His presence is causing the destruction of the planes of reality, and structure itself is weakening. Since he cannot return in corporeal form, he must be destroyed." So saying, he flicked his hands and a train pulled up alongside them. "Come, we have a short journey to make to reach the Source. Follow me." ***** Eleanor returned to Wesley House and proceeded to a small room across the court. She pulled a small key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, which swung open quietly. She walked into the semidarkness and lay her food on the table. Walking over to a small instrument, she paused. She sensed another in the room. "Trinity." "Hello Eleanor." A figure moved out of the shadows. "You know what I have to do." "Yes." She hesitated. "However, there's something I've been working on that might interest you." She lifted it out of its box and held it up to a single dim ray of light like a spider's thread inching through the crack in the doorway. "This device is now ready for testing. I shall use it to catch them all together." Before he could stop her, she flicked the switch and light shimmered from the machine. He fell down, pain screaming in his mind, and he disappeared. And elsewhere, the methsoccers also had dropped to the floor unconscious and disappeared. She laughed. No-one, not even Peter Graves could stop her now...
She had never been popular, a scrawny girl that was desparate for power and had ideas beyond her limited capacity. Peter's idea of a short journey had been to get the Virgin to York, land of my birth, and unwittingly the source of my powers. No longer in my mobile, but etched in my memory were the names and numbers of those able to help the cause to which we bound. Trinity had been able to join me - there was one thing that Peter knew, but a myriad of things he didn't know. As we went deeper into friendly territory, I could feel the malevalent forces weakening, else I was getting stronger. My mind was being filled with information, and I was able to awaken MethSoc. There was one thing I was however unable to do, and that was to Summon Eleanor. Words were filling Kim's book, and they were able to write back to me. It was like a CB radio now. Peter had hired a car and was driving us towards Whitby and into the gathering storm. However he hadn't banked on the forces of the Moor. As we passed the Hole of Horcum, he found himself being fed to the giant that lives there. It had got to the point I didn't care where his sympathies lay, he was getting on my nerves. I continued in the car to Ravenscar, and then walked to Whitby, watching as clouds gathered to the North. Other, older powers were awakening, and I told MethSoc to foregather at the Cathedral Church of St John, by the front of the Venerable Bede in the Galilee chapel. Trinty was meant to be joing me at the church of St Mary, but already something was wrong. The Shadowmancer had returned, although whether this was at Eleanor's summoning or my own I was unsure. Standing at the Abbey I watch as the storm begins. *** The Girl ***My name is Joanna Coussens, and I am summoned to the Storm at Whitby. A woman stands in the shadows of the Abbey, her form portly, yet when she moves it is with Speed. I am told this is the Angel, and I can believe it.The Storm has begun, and lightening hits the Abbey. The Angel Crackles and glows, and as the second strike hits the bridge the valley is split in two and a rip appears in the fabric of space and time. She runs and jumps into the chasm. The Angel has jumped into the rift, and the mouth of the Esk coughs and spits a lifeless form into the lap of the town. It is time to for me to go. * * * "It appeared that she decided that there was no other choice. She jumped into N-Space, forcing me out. Unfortunately she didn't survive the attempt." The familiar form looked at them for "her" perch in the galilee chapel as "she" spoke. "I have all her usual powers and then some. After all, this place was where God and Nature meet. But I cannot leave this form, I am trapped in this body." Finally something else moved, and spoke. Kim moved forward, "So, who are you?" "I am Dave," said the creature that looked like Angel. "The Angel is Dead."
"Oh Mikie!" cried Chris, but stopped when Mikie shook his head and held up the last of the packages that Dave had given them. "This opened up for me when we arrived. There's a letter, and I just finished reading it. Listen: 'Dear Methsoc, Right, if this parcel has opened then you are in danger. That means that there's a member of the Scourge around who is probably pretending to be me. If this is the case, shoot it with the gun that is also in this parcel, there's a good chap. Cheers, Dave' So I did," finished Mikie. "But what's happened to Angel," put in Tim, "and how did we get here? The last thing I remember was pain and blackness." "Well, she looks pretty dead to me, you heard what that thing said. She died in N-Space... but Dave was never in N-Space and that was when he went missing..." Martin was musing. "What does that book say?" "Right, well this book says that Angel has been to -" Kim shuddered as she continued to read through the Appendix "-Birmingham New Street with Peter Graves. He said something about finding Dave and destroying him!" With alarm she slammed the book shut. "Where is he? It didn't say anything in there..." The others looked round. "Where was he going?" asked Janet. "Something about the Source, finding where the anomaly causing Dave is and destroying him, so that Peter isn't impeded." Kim looked puzzled. "Then we've got to find him and stop him from destroying Dave!" said Chris. "Quick, we've got to get back to the Midlands and find Peter!" *** Meanwhile Peter Graves was closing the door behind him and looking toward the Source. (He'd had a wonderful chat with his friend the giant. They'd not seen each other for quite a while and had a lot of catching up to do. The trick seemed to have worked, Angel was continuing on her way. A well meaning sort, but really not very competant, Peter hoped she'd be OK and not get into too much trouble. Anyway, after the gaint's second bucket of tea, and third dustbin sized scone [Pronounced Skon - and would you argue with a 30 ft giant?] Peter had managed to make his apologies and make his way back to Birmingham - Ed) He moved quickly across the room, knowing that shortly Dave would be out of his way for ever, when a small perturbation in psi-energies made him stop. "Peter." "Eleanor."
"Things will get worse before they get better." He spoke them aloud, not noticing the curate coming out of the church. "Aye, that they will. That's going to be some storm. You aren't going to be waiting long are you?" "I wasn't expecting to be. She should've been here by now." "Well, if it starts before she arrives, there's shelter in the church." "The Lord Almighty grant us a quiet night, and a perfect end." "Amen." With this, the curate turned, and walked off, fearing that the night was likely to be anything but quiet, and wanting to be home before it came so. When he had gone, Trinity continued "Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth," and bowed his head in prayer. The heavens broke, and Trinity stood straight once more, gazing again at the necklace in his hand. As he watched, it shimmered briefly and fell into dust, which combined with the rain, and ran down his arm, leaving a line of golden residue on his skin. He fought back tears, turned, and entered the church. He lit a taper from a candle inside the doorway, and walked up the nave, lighting candles as he went. He lit the three candles at the altar, then stepped back and went down on one knee. "Ave atque vale, Angela," he said, his voice laden, "In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."
"Now look here you two, we'll have none of that in my room. Just sit down and have a cup of tea." Eleanor and Peter found themselves forced to sit down at a table in the centre of the room, a middle aged lady poured each of them a cup of tea, and offered around milk and sugar. "This petty struggle for power and dominion is all very well and good, but there are more important things that you seem to have both forgotten about. You really can't just go about travelling between planes willy-nilly, splitting perfectly nice seaside towns in two and wiping people out of existence, especially if they're my son. I'm really rather disappointed in you." Peter and Eleanor both looked as if they'd rather been somewhere else. "You know it's always nice to see you, but...but...you can't do this. I'm in charge you know, Chaplain and all that. I venture to suggest that this has all been a large mistake, and if you'll just let me ..." "I think not, Peter. It would be best if you just sat there and drank your tea for now, dear. Do you have anything to add, Eleanor?" Eleanor smiled a somewhat sickly smile. "Well, no, I don't think so. As Peter said, it's probably all a big mistake. In fact I'm not quite sure what you mean. Struggle for power and dominion?" "Don't come the innocent with me, girl," the Source replied. "Good bye for now, and I don't want to have to bring you here again." "But you didn't bring me here! I came on my own." Peter and Eleanor said at the same time, somewhat confusing the passengers waiting on platform 1b of Birmingham New St where they'd just appeared. "This isn't over yet you know," Eleanor said, her body starting to fade out of this existence. "Your days are numbered old man." Peter just smiled and took the stairs. The young always seemed to want to show off, fancy disappearing on the platform of a mainline station, anyone could have noticed. * * * "Do come in my dear and sit down." Trinity stared at the Source, and the table in front of her. He'd been expecting the lift doors to open onto platform 8 for the (delayed) 16:39 from Edinburgh via York, and instead found himself looking at what looked like someone's front lounge. A middle aged lady sat on an armchair, a table set for tea beside her. She gestured to the armchair beside her, which he decided it probably best to sit in. "Erm, hi, I don't think we've met before. I'm Trinity. Very pleased to meet you," Trinity mumbled as he took his seat. "I know who you are, I've been expecting you. I am the Source. You are here to make the Choice," the Source said rather criptically. "I am?" Trinity was rather shocked by all this, but for some reason had a feeling that it was all meant to be. "I'm afraid so. As you can see there are two doors out of this room." Trinity looked around and noticed a second door into the room seemed to have appeared from somewhere. "You must choose which one to leave from. The one by which you entered the room will take you back to platform 8, where you may be able to prevent MethSoc falling into the clutched of the Chaplaincy Assistant. However, you may choose to leave through the door on the right. Through it you will find and rescue Dave. Unless you do so the many planes of existence in this world will fall into chaos and destruction. But you will be too late to save MethSoc for Eleanor." "Erm, thanks," said Trinity. "I guess I've not really got much choice then. In any case, I think MethSoc can probably look after themselves by now." Trinity stood and walked deliberately over to the door on the right, his beard bouncing with every step. He opened the door and strode through it.
She almost missed Methsoc boarding, but at the last minute caught a sight of a bearded figure by the train, and a Cambridge Methsoc T-shirt. "Not proof conclusive," she muttered to herself, "but that train is going the right way, and I can't afford to miss it." She dove across the platform, narrowly avoiding a luggage trolley, jumped, and rolled into the last carriage just as the doors were closing, then stood and brushed her clothes down, while walking south in search of the beard she had spotted earlier. Mikie was surprised to see a beskirted teenager staring at his beard, and still more surprised if she asked him if he was Jonathan. "No," he answered, "I'm not. We are hoping that he will catch us up in Birmingham, however." The girl tensed as he disabused her as to his identity, then appeared to relax. "Do you think, then, that I might join you that far? I've been called back to Birmingham due to a Family emergency, and he was supposed to be joining me. My name is Cecily, by the way, and I'm hoping to be going to Cambridge myself in October."
Trinity rushed over to him and shook him. His eyes blinked blearily and an exhausted, relieved smile crossed his face. "Ah, I see you've met my mum." "You mean..?" "Yes, I'm Dave. Welcome to my mind." "But how..?" The figure sat up, as if renewed at the sight of a companion. "Well, I brought Methsoc into N-Space to give them gifts and save them from the Enemy. However they were waiting on a different front to get me. They were trying to enter through me, through my mind. I had to retreat back here as soon as I realised that that was their plan so that I could fight them here and stop their plans. I've been locked in combat ever since." Trinity seemed rather overwhelmed at all this information. "So what do we do?" "Do? We fight, that's what. You have all the resources of my mind to help. You can see what's happened here through the Enemy's influence. The sky has grown darker, there's a malevolent feel to the air. Come, we have to make a move or it will be too late..." * * * "Come on, come on..." Martin was getting impatient. "How do trains travel so slowly?" "It's so annoying not knowing what's going on," moaned Janet. Chris was finishing yet another crossword and looked up. "I'm bored. I'm fed up of doing crosswords, does anyone have a book to read?" Kim's eyes lit up. "Of course! The book! We can find out what's happening... let's see..." As she got the book out of her bag the familiar scratching sound got louder and louder. Kim's eyes scanned over the paper and widened with fear as they went. Then she spoke: "Peter and Eleanor are both trying to get rid of Dave. They've met Dave's mum who seems to be the Source or something like that, and she's sent Jon into Dave's mind. It appears that Dave disappeared in N-Space because the Enemy was trying to take over using his mind. He had to trap them there and fight. Now he has Jon to help him, but he doesn't have long. But now, erm, Eleanor's coming to get us, and she's not happy." The tea trolley passed by and the cheery sound of "Tea, coffee, biscuits.." rang out. Mikie jumped up at the sound of the word 'coffee' but stood still in his shoes as instead of the tea lady he saw Eleanor, smiling over all of them with a gun. The train sped on.
Just then the train arrived on time. This impossible circumstance made everyone abruptly aware of their own fictionality, and set them to dwindling away in a sudden suspension of suspension of disbelief. Out of the diminishing train sprang the more strongly characterised Methsoc, who barged their way into something resembling Cambridge. "What do we do now?" asked Kim, too proud to avail herself yet again of the plotting expedient of glancing into the book. "Anything the author likes," replied Steven, "if there really isn't any necessary correspondence between the Cambridge described here and its real-life counterpart." "That's really scary," said Martin. "I feel so malleable, so subject to authorial whim." Janet coughed crumbs. "I'm not afraid," declared Mikie Bell. By an orthographical vicissitude he became the small, round, red-wax-covered Mikiebel and was no longer able to speak or move. "Oh no!" cried Chris. "What if Eleanor comes along and writes us all into oblivion?" "But this section is by Ed. It says so at the top." "What kind of slipshod proof is that?" "Be quiet," Steven told the unspecified people. "Let's go and find ourselves some powerful allies, who won't stand for any nonsense. And nobody eat Mikie." Nobody ate Mikie, and burped. Meanwhile, Steven was leading them to an undescribed part of the city. He failed, settled for a part of the city described only as (a part of the city described only as)n undescribed, where he began to marshal his shock troops: two dozen small children, who would defeat Eleanor by shouting "Boring! Boring! Boring!" as soon as she approached. What evil genius could withstand that?
Trinity blinked. "You mean all that stuff about them escaping Eleanor with a slice of bread and rounding up kids was made up? It wasn't real?" "Of course not, Methsoc is in real danger. They aren't fictional; after all, I was in Methsoc once and I'm real. I think... But no, the idea that they are all in some sort of story is daft. Especially one written by Ed - I've been in one of those before..." Dave shuddered. They were walking again; they'd left the entrance hall to Dave's mind behind them and were walking across the fields towards the chasm. As they turned a corner a large, dark being came into view from behind a hill. "What's that?!" cried Trinity. A shard of pain shot through Dave. "That is the enemy I've been trying to fight since I brought Methsoc into N-Space! It's the Cheshire Cat..." "The Cheshire Cat? But it's huge!" "Yes, and it's sitting right on the join between my left and right cerebral hemispheres..." Dave winced with pain again. "But that must surely..." "Yes, it does hurt! A lot!" The Cat opened its eyes and a low, dark voice issued forth. "Ah, Dave. You return to face me once more..." *** "Good to see you again, Methsoc... And now I think it's only fitting if I give you the Benediction before I despatch you all to your deaths." Eleanor raised the gun as the train sped on. Kim was the first to speak. "Wait, it says in the book that we got rid of you and Mikie turned into a piece of cheese..." Chris leaned over and read through the still scratching page. "Yes, but it also says there that Dave created that vision in his mind to show Trinity what his mind could do. What's that about a Cheshire Cat though?" Eleanor paused. "A Cheshire Cat? Ah, that must be what's keeping Dave busy..." She smiled a crooked, vindictive smile. "Of course!" whispered Martin, and grabbed an orange off the tea trolley. "Chris! The orange game!" The orange came hurtling towards Chris who immediately decided to explain relativity to a couple of bored children sitting opposite them on the train. So good was his explanation that the orange hurtled out of his hands, knocking Eleanor's gun down the carriage. "Quick, we have to concentrate. When the impostor of Matthew was holding us prisoner, he mentioned something about Dave being in our collective mind. If we can draw on our power we might be able to help him, free his mind up and get him able to help us!" Quick as a wink, everyone shut their eyes and began to concentrate. "NO!" screamed Eleanor. "No-one is going to stop me now!" She aimed the gun at Janet and fired...
The Cat's claws dug into Dave's brain slowly and spitefully as each word was formed, inspected and given an extra lick of malice. "So, you have thought it wise to bring this... human into my domain? You are a fool, David, and always have been. You think that he can save you?" Even as Dave felt the claws penetrate deeper, he managed to hiss, "Don't listen to it! It wants you to stop concentrating and we desperately need to concentrate! Concentrate on Methsoc!" Trinity gathered himself together and with only a trace of the underlying nerves betrayed, said "I'd like to think that it's the other way round. You are in my presence." "A pointless and futile play on words. You have no presence, not now, not any more." "You'll not get away that easily!" shouted Dave, mustering his strength one final time. "We have a few more tricks up our sleeves yet!" he screamed as he fell unconscious onto the floor... * * * It is said that a few seconds before you know you are to die, an amazing energy rushes through your body, and this is what Janet felt as the bullet from the still-smoking gun rushed towards her. She felt it. Methsoc felt it. Trinity felt it. Dave felt it, and reached out for it. Dimly, at the back of her mind, Eleanor felt it too. Peter Graves certainly felt it. The bullet pushed on through the air, past the seats, past the tables with half-drunk cups of coffee, pressing headlong towards her. Eight inches. Six inches. Four inches. Two inches. Then through it went, landing harmlessly in a seat at the opposite end of the carriage. Eleanor screamed in rage and frustration; a blank space was left where Methsoc had been. * * * "Where... are... we..?" asked Martin slowly. "I don't know, where is Kate?" answered Chris absent-mindedly, equally slowly and without concentrating. His mind was fixed on the scene in front of him. He was standing close to the edge of a huge chasm in what appeared at first glance to be the Cheshire countryside, but upon noticing the large Cheshire Cat poised carefully across the chasm, claws deeply wedged into the ground bringing forth blood, he rethought. "Dave!" Janet rushed over to the lifeless figure on the ground and turned him onto his back. "He's breathing, but only barely... and there's a very faint, very irregular pulse... We need to find a doctor!" "Oh yes, and where are we going to find one, eh? I don't think we're in Cambridge any more... And no-one one satisfactorily answered my question - where are we?" The Methsoccers spun round as the voice once again issued from the Cat, the malignance dripping from each syllable. "So, David managed to find a way to bring you in here. Much good will it do him." Carys stepped forward. "I'm sorry - who are you, and where are we?" "You are in the mind of he whom you call David. In a last desperate attempt to defeat me he tapped into your minds as you concentrated your energies upon him. It will come to no avail; his lifeforce is almost depleted." "We'll see who's weak, and who's strong," said Tim. "Why are you here?" "You cannot hope to intimidate me, little human. You are all only strong altogether; without one you can do nothing. You are weak. Powerless. Helpless..." "Oh, will you shut up?! I'm really getting very sick of listening to you," shouted Janet. "Come on guys, we need to fight this thing." "But what with? We have none of the weapons Dave gave us, just my book," said Kim. She paused. "Where are everyone else's presents?" "Erm... we seem to have lost them on the way somewhere," remarked Chris nervously. Kim was in full teacher mode. "I know Dave said that the weapons could only hold the Enemy up, but you could have at least held onto them until we needed them!" A voice behind them made them turn. "You won't need them." "Peter Graves?!" * * *
Tom stopped, puzzled. "What's that supposed to mean?" Peter pointed to the girl who had joined them at York station. "Come forward, Cecily. You know what's behind this, don't you?" Another voice made them all turn. "Of course I do, Peter. This is where it all begins. From this mind we can go anywhere, anywhen." Eleanor stepped out from the escarpment behind which she had been hiding into the full light of the mind's sunset. Night fell. "Here it was that this whole thing ended, and where it all began. This is the Ouroborous moment; here is the snake that perpetually eats its own tail." Peter walked across to Eleanor and clamped her arm behind her back. "Only this time I cannot allow it to happen. Not again. Not this time." "You can't stop me, Peter. You never could. You create me, and it has weighed on your conscience ever since! These children do not know who you really are, what you truly are, do they? Only Dave knows, and he won't say anything ever again!" "I rue the day when I started this, but now time has turned full circle, I have the chance once more to stop it, and this I shall do!" "Never, Peter! Never! My Cat, arise! Arise and be reborn!" Peter threw her to the ground and as they fought, the Cat retracted its claws, got up and headed straight for Cecily. From the melee before them, Methsoc heard Peter's muffled voice shouting "Stop that Cat! Don't let it bond with her!" "Quick, you heard the man, stop the Cat!" shouted Martin, running into its path with a bit of tree stump. "But how? How can we fight a gigantic Cheshire Cat that's over 20 feet tall?!" wailed Janet. As the Methsoccers ran around trying to find weapons, the Cat stalked Cecily, hunting, playing with prey as cats are wont to do. "Help me! Please somebody help me!" The shouts grew louder and louder, the screams reaching fever pitch as suddenly a voice cracked through the sound like a bell: "Stop! Get back where you belong!" Everyone stopped what they had been doing and spun round to see Dave standing up, face set with anger. The Cat slowed and turned. "You dare try and order me, David?" "Yes, I do. Your presence here is not welcome. I cannot allow this to happen again; leave this place or face the consequences!" Dave was walking unsteadily but purposefully towards the beast. "Consequences? Ha! What have you got that can hurt me?" "All this time you were playing the card that we aren't strong unless we are together. But you forget - by taking your claws out from my mind you allowed me to regain consciousness. Methsoc chose to reach out and help and so they are here. Trinity made the Choice and so he is here as well. We are complete. We are whole. And we are more than a match for a parasite like you." "You cannot stop me! Methsoc is but a fly; an irritation, but not one that will harm me. And you, David, are not strong. You, the arsonist who starts a fire to play the hero when he saves everyone. The attention-seeking child who longs for people to notice him. You-" "Be silent! You have no place here. The chain of Time will be broken here. We are Methsoc and we are One. Concentrate everyone, and we can destroy it." "No!" shouted the Cat as Methsoc closed in around it menacingly. It backed towards the chasm, fear and loathing pitted in its eyes, as Eleanor too shrieked with pain and terror. "You can't do this! Time must be left to its own devices!" "I am one of those devices. Now, die." Back and back it went, terror increasing as it went. "No!" cried the Cat as it reached the edge and scrabbled to regain its balance on the side. "You can't do this! You wouldn't do this!" "Why have the power if you can't use it? DIE!" The Cat gave a final wail as it fell over the precipice into the deep darkness below. Eleanor jumped up, screamed and ran towards the chasm, hurling herself headlong into the blackness of that inner night to follow the Cat. * * *
"Quite simple really. That girl you met at York - Cecily - she was the beginning of Eleanor; the Eleanor you met before. At the beginning, Peter created her future by getting the Cat to bond with Cecily to create the force that was Eleanor. We have been going through that loop for thousands of years since. Each time, Eleanor releases the Cat which is, after all, a different facet of herself, and then we fight in my mind and each time the whole thing repeats. The Cat enters Cecily and Eleanor is reborn. I have so far been powerless to stop it, all of my energies diverted in trying to hold up the process, to find another way out." Dave took a huge gulp of tea. Around them, the Houghton lounge area was quiet, intent on hearing the explanation. "But what was different this time?" asked Kim. "Why did we win this time, if you've done it so many times before? And why are you back here?" "Most of that is simple. This time I had something I never had before: you lot. Without all of you concentrating on getting rid of the Cat, or trying to get hold of me when you were in the railway carriage, the loop would just have restarted again. As for why I'm back, well, Time is a great healer. It seems that it's decided that I'm better off here than nowhere. And just in time for Christmas... Yes, and it'll soon be 2003 it seems!" "So what's happened to Peter and Eleanor then?" asked Martin. "Well, Cecily, or as she should be known - Eleanor, grew up as a normal child, rather than one enhanced by the Cat's evil. She is still the Chaplaincy Assistant, but is as normal and well-adjusted as any Methodist, with no illusions of grandeur or megalomania any more. Doesn't anyone want to go to this 'ere Christmas Fair in the Village? Now that I've handed over my Presidency to Chris I want to have some mulled wine and hotdogs..." "And Peter? Why was he after you, trying to destroy you?" "Well, it's simple. He had decided that the way to stop it was to destroy the problem another way; by destroying me. If I weren't there, then the Cat wouldn't have anywhere to inhabit before entering Cecily. That was wrong though, it would have just got in straight away and devastated the world while it was at it. In any case, he was the reason why it all started anyway..." He looked down at his watch. The dials read "Human era, 2002, December, 7th, Local time: 17:16". "I just have two questions for you Dave," said Janet. "Who is Peter? And who are you?" Dave sat back and smiled his wry, knowing smile. "Not yet..."
All seems well and MethSoc can get on with the year ahead with hope for a better future. Terms pass, people leave and people arrive. MethSoc continues. Peter Graves continues also, in his guise as Minister to Wesley Methodist Church. Few suspect that he is anything more, and fewer still know the truth. Certainly not Eleanor who has made a wonderful Chaplaincy Assistant and friend to many. Adventures are never far away from the Cambridge Student Methodist Society, and no doubt there will be more, but this story had ended and we must wait for another to begin...
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