FAN PRODUCED DOOMWATCH

ADAM QUIST S2E17 THE MARTIAN INHERITANCE by GRANT FOXON

2011-09-25T06:02:00.000-07:00

The sky above Pariswas blood red. In his run down hotel suite Marco typed faster and faster. Hehad to alert the others. After what he seen he knew he was dead. The computerfroze and Marco swore at it. Outside an unmarked black van pulled up. Officersof the foreign legion jumped out and entered the hotel. At reception, the girlapproached the officers. They shouted in French for her to get down. Shecomplied without argument. They then asked what room Marco was staying in.Suspecting an alias, they described him and were slightly bemused and surprisedthat he never bothered with an alias. They headed immediately for the thirdfloor.

They reached the room and then kicked the door in. He hadscampered out the window onto the metal girder then into the deserted streetchucking the laptop out. The lead officer swore from the window and then madetheir way back down the stairs of the hotel and out onto the street.

I’m not going to make this easy for them. Marco thought ashis heart pounded as he ran. He was quite fit but was no runner. They pursuedhim down the street. Some of the men took the van. Marco had reached a crossroads when all of a sudden he felt a stinging sensation then his limp lifelesscorpse dropped to the floor. The computer was too badly damaged when Marco threw it outof the window. What had he learned?

Inside the research laboratory in Virginia hung a huge picture of a detailedmap of the area of Mars known as The Elysium Quadrangle. Dr William Reynoldswas a man driven by the secrets held on the red planet. He was a nuclearphysicist and one of the lead scientists who believed in and wanted to work onterrorforming the planet so much. Unfortunately, space exploration was slowlybeing wound down. Future trips to the Moon looked unlikely let alone to Mars.He believed that Mars had so much to offer, maybe even clues about our worldtoo.

As William checked his emails he found one from an unknownsender marked URGENT. Suspecting junk he went to delete it, then curious heopened it. What he read was truly shocking and mind blowing. Unknowingly he hadnow become marked for death.

Adam Quist sat at his desk. He glanced outside his windowand saw London.It seemed so different to the place he used to know in his youth. He wonderedif his father felt the same when he was in charge of Doomwatch. Maybe back thenDoomwatch was really in a position to make a difference. Not now. Thegovernment had them on such a tight leash that it seemed impossible. He feltlike the parochial dinosaur who should do the right thing and become extinct.He was certain his masters would love that. Adam decided to check his emails.He noticed one marked URGENT in his junk email folder. Without opening it, hedecided to delete it.

Inside the secret building in Paris an autopsy had taken place. In chargewas Deville. He was annoyed at the trigger-happy officer who had killed Marcobut perhaps his corpse would answer why the Russians and Americans were soeager to capture him.

The corpse revealed one very interesting fact. Marco hadbeen exposed to gamma radiation. Not enough to kill but certainly enough tocause damage. How interesting Deville mused.

William believed that space travel was partially sufferingbecause of the green lobby. If people think car fumes and jet fumes are bad formother earth then what must they think of a space shuttle? Another factor wasobviously the cost. People hadn’t lost interest like the propaganda the governmentput out would have you believe. It was quite the contrary. When William was ayoung man following the moon landings, he really believed some form ofprimitive colony could be set up on the moon by 2010. But no, it neverhappened. War seemed a more favourable way to waste money and speed uptechnological progress.

Upon reading the email. His first thoughts were that it mustbe fake. Then his imagination caught him. Maybe, just maybe this was real? Williamread the email again. It didn’t seem like a phishing scam. It wasn’t flagged upfor his junk box either.

Deep in the bowels of Moscow,Dr Ryians was being tortured. He screamed in agony. His torturers were welltrained in how to exact only truth from their clients. He screamed as hotneedles penetrated his flesh. It took little to break the scientist, so theyhad to be careful.

“Please! Please God save me!” he cried.

The torturers stopped and kneeled closer.

“What did you see?” one asked calmly.

“Everything. Russiahas the ultimate biological weapon. The West knew you were a failure. They knewyour nuclear capabilities were flawed. You may be tough people but you’rebackward with it”.

The torturer resisted the urge to kill him.

“Go on…”.

“You had luck. The meteor site at Tunguska.A bit of excavating and you

found something. Bacterium. Minute traces of it. The world’sfirst extra

terrestrial. So you analysed and ran tests. Then you addbits and pieces and you created a chemical weapon far more deadly than anydisease we know. One that affects all life on this planet. Few diseases dothat. Americahad you destroy it, as did your own people. But Tunguskawasn’t the only meteorite hot spot. Was it? I mean, Russia covers eleven time zones. Soyou dug and then you found more of the alien bacterium. Didn’t you? I hate Russia”.

The torturers looked up at the Governmental representative.He nodded slowly. The torturer smiled and began to murder Dr Ryians in the mostpainful way possible.

Paul Grover was busy working on various censor reports aboutpollution. Despite the fact that pollution was apparent, the fact was thatpeople didn’t care. The government didn’t like this. Of course groups like theL.C.F were deep believers, even if their methods left a lot to be desired. Sopart of Doomwatch’s current agenda was to come up with ideas too help“persuade” the good, over watched citizens of the UK to comply. At times like thisPaul hated his job.

Eve walked over to Paul smiling carrying a coffee.

“You look as though you need a coffee?” Eve asked.

Paul smiled back.

“Eve, you’re absolutely brilliant. Thank you”.

“What are you working on?”

“Pro anti pollution materials. You see, they let the problemgestate for years

then, all of a sudden people are forced with green taxes andfines to make sure

they recycle. People don’t like being forced into things.Especially when you have groups claiming pollution doesn’t exist. And so calledgreen groups like the L.C.F”. Paul sighed as he finished talking.

“Hey the exiting stuff makes up for it”. Eve replied.

“Exciting if only”.

Dr Reynolds arrived home. He flicked through his post andthen walked into the kitchen. He noticed mud on the floor then he saw the manstanding there carrying a gun with a silencer. In seconds Dr Reynolds was dead.The clean up operation had begun.

As the day drew to a close the members of Doomwatch left thebuilding. Eve waited outside for her taxi. Alone she looked at an advertisementacross the street with some animated characters on. Suddenly someone grabbedher and pulled her back into a doorway.

“Shut up. I wont hurt you. I need you to give something toDr Quist for me”.

The man released his hand. Eve backed off.

“Who the hell do you think you are!” Eve found innerstrength as she backed off.

“Please. You don’t understand. Please”. The man offered adisc with his shaking.

“Here”.

Eve took the disc. The man smiled then ran off down thestreet. Eve glanced down at the disc.

Adam Quist sat back in his chair and looked down at his halffull glass of whisky. He lay back and semi-seriously contemplated thepossibility of suicide. Then he heard a banging on the door. Slowly Adam walkedto the door and was shocked to see Eve standing there.

“Eve. If it’s about taking leave in a few weeks it’ll bebetter if you ask at work”.

“No. Sorry Mr Quist. A man outside the building while I waswaiting for my taxi he told me to give you this”.

Eve handed over the disc.

“Interesting. Shall we take a look?” Adam asked.

“He seemed really scared I think his life was in danger”.

Adam pondered this then smiled.

“Interesting. Makes a change from anti-smoking campaignsdoesn’t it?”

Adam inserted the disc into his DVD player. A image appearedon the screen. It was a man in a laboratory with a Canadian accent.

“Hello. I hope this works. Hello Mr Quist you don’t know mebut I’m aware

of you and your father. You have been targeted. If you readthe email then you’ll know why. If not there may still be time. The real truthbehind the cold war was America’sfear of a contagion that the Russians recovered from the meteorite crater at Tunguska. The bacterium was thought dead but they usedvarious techniques to revive it. What the created was a bacteria which washarmful to all kinds of organic life. This Chimera was believed to haveoriginated in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. What theRussians maynot be aware of is that when the Viking Mars probe landed onthe surface of Marsin 1976 they too discovered the same bacterium. Of coursethe more eccentricbelieve the Tunguska meteor to perhaps be analien attack an attempt to use germ warfare. Others believe perhaps we areunique in that the bacterium never reached Earth or maybe we have a naturaldefence. Something in the Van Allen Belt perhaps? Anyway the threat of thisbacteriumfalling into the wrong hands is terrifying. I don’t know what you cando butwe need your help. We believe the Americans have deliberately leftWesternEurope in the dark about the bacteria. I have to go. They’re going to belooking for me. Soon a lot of good people are going to die because they knowtomuch. I prey you can help and you’re not on the list”.

The image disappeared. Eve was shocked.

“I may have spoke to soon. Well looks as though we’ve got aproblem. Youprobably shouldn’t of seen that Eve”.

“Yeah I think so to. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps we’re being watched. Which means thatthey would

know that you coming here is unusual”.

Suddenly bullets tore through the windows. Shattering glass.Eve screamed as she and Adam dropped to the floor.

“Bastards! Are you ok?” Adam asked.

“Yeah. What do we do?”

“Get to the other side of the house come on!” Adam grabbedEve’s hand, as they made there way crouching down as more bullets burst in.

“Stay close Eve!” Adam wailed.

In the night sky the military helicopter roared in theclouds.

“Hostiles in the area”. The pilot indicated.

“I hope we’re not too late”. The Commander commented.

“Move us into attack position take out any enemies outsideand then do a sweep. But quickly their professionals they want Quist dead”.

Adam peered down his hallway and noticed a hole in the wall.

“I hope we can get compensation for that”. Even in suchsituations he tried humour. Eve was too shocked to appreciate it. Then themasked figure climbed in through the wall.

“Run!” Adam cried. They turned and ran back as the maskedfigure opened fire. Just missing them.

Outside the helicopter broke the clouds and immediatelytargeted and opened fire on the hooded figures outside the cottage. Therebodies were cut to pieces in seconds by the fire. One ran into the night.

Inside the hooded figure reached up to his earpiece.

“Damn”. He commented. He turned and ran back outside thecottage. The helicopter destroyed his body.

“That seems to be all sir”. The pilot calmly commented.

“Good. Looks a mess. I hope the chap is insured”. TheCommander noted.

The helicopter landed and the Commander casually strolledtowards the cottage.

“Mr Quist! Hello! Anybody home?”

Adam and Eve emerged from the cottage.

“Ahh there you are. I’m Commander Jackson. It seems there’sbeen a bitof bother doesn’t it?”

Adam turned and looked at his cottage and then the remainsof the man on the floor.

“A bit of bother? A bit of bother!”

“Now, now lets not make a song and dance out if it. Wouldyou both

accompany me please. Don’t worry your property will be underguard until we can fix it for you free of charge”.

“How do we know you’re not going to kill us?”

“My dear what a silly question. I’d of let them do itwouldn’t I and savedmy self the trouble. Come along”.

Adam and Eve followed. Adam tapped the Commander on theshoulder.

“They couldn’t have a look at my washing machine as wellcould they?”

Inside the secret military instillation in Florida GeneralFord slammed the phone down.

“They failed not only is Quist alive the British army havehim!” he shouted.

The others in the room braced themselves for the fallout tofollow.

“So it’s safe to assume that the Brits know. So along withthe French we havetwo new players ladies and gentlemen. Those are factors Icould have donewithout! Never the less we have got to deal with them. Somebodyprepare mea statement for the Brits. Make it good to will ya”.

Two officers nodded and headed for the door.

“The rest of ya. I don’t need to tell you the importance ofour task. Or threatenyou with what’ll happen if you fail. You all know what’sat stake here. This isthe big time and we’re playin’ for keeps. And watch whatyou say. ‘Cause wall have mice, and mice have ears know what I mean. Now get toit!”

The helicopter touched down in Brighton.They were then ushered into a limo a jeep and escorted to a secure building.Upon arrival Commander Jackson prepared earl grey tea and was clearlydisenchanted to learn that Adam Quist preferred Black Coffee.

“But on your report it says you prefer tea?” CommanderJackson replied annoyed.

“I lied on that”. Adam returned.

Annoyed Commander Jackson sent for coffee.

“Well I take it you didn’t lie Eve?”

“No tea will be fine. Who attacked us?”

Commander Jackson sat back in his chair.

“I was rather hoping you to could fill me in?”

“What do you know so far?” Adam asked.

“No what do you know so far Mr Quist?”

Adam looked deeply at Commander Jackson. He decided to behonest.

“Apparently at the famous site in Tunguskaof the meteor crater the Russians

did some digging found some rock which contained inside the rock. This lithotropic bacterium was thenexamined and after a bit of probing and mixingthey realised they had the mostdangerous biological weapon on the planet.

This was the reason why Russiawas so feared by America.The bacterium was also discovered in some form on the surface of Mars. Part ofthe pact signed at the end of the cold war was that the bacterium wasdestroyed. It was.However at another site another sample was found. And the US deliberately

Kept as many people out of the loop as possible. Includingthe UK.Now we’re all heading for a humongous international incident. And I imaginemanypeople are being killed who know. Or they even suspect know”.

Commander Jackson thoughtfully rubbed his brow as Adam’scoffee arrived.

“It seems we’ll need a word with our brothers across thepond. They’ve neverlike us. Mind you they wanted a republic. Silly people. Yousee the whiteAmericans are all descended from religious maniacs who fled us.I’ve neverliked them”.

Adam drunk from his coffee.

Eve suddenly felt tired. She then collapsed. Adam jumped up.

“I really wish you had of had the tea it works quicker”.

Adam looked down at his cup of coffee.

“You drugged it. You bastard”.

Adam then collapsed.

S2E16 - DOOMWATCH LAS MALVENAS, SON ARGENTINAS

2011-08-19T04:49:00.001-07:00

DOOMWATCH

Las Malvenas, Son Argentinas

By Grant Foxon

“Respectfor the rights of others means peace”.

BenitoJuarez

Ridge satin front of Adam. The two men stared at each other with admiration andcontempt.

“Well?Your move?” Adam asked forcefully.

Ridgehesitated than spoke

“Doyou have red hair?” Ridge then asked.

“Yes”.Adam replied.

Between thetwo men sat the game guess who. They were locked in combat. There was a knockat the door and Miranda entered.

“You’replaying a board game?” she asked.

“Guesswho is no ordinary board game”. Adam replied.

Mirandapicked up the box.

“You’reright. It’s a board game for 8 to 10 year olds”. She said with delight.

“Haveyou made my drink?” Adam asked.

“Youdo know we have a ridiculous amount of paperwork that needs processingasap?”
“Haveyou made my drink?” Adam asked again.

Mirandahanded Adam his smoothie.

“Wouldyou like a smoothie Ridge?” Miranda asked.

“Nothanks I’m straight”. Ridge replied.

Mirandasighed and left the room.

“YourAngus!” Ridge shouted.

Adam sighedand threw the game to one side.

“Bloodything!”

“Yes. Now why am I here?”

“WellRidge I want your advice. HMS endurance has been doing some tests aroundthe Falklands. They have discovered a nice pocket of hydrocarbons. Andthe government has decided to pursue oil rights there. However with ourmilitary cut back and over stretched there is a fear that perhaps the Falklands might be set upon once moreby Argentina”.

Ridgethought about these words.

“They’rea democracy now though surely?” Ridge asked.

“TheMalvinas are a huge subject of national pride for Argentina”. Adam saidsolemnly.

“Itake it this is the latest phoney assignment from Timmons? I’m sorry AdamI don’t buy it. Since the Falklands conflict ended 100 billion in 80’smoney was spent on defence for the islands. 200 Royal Marines are permanentlybased there. Now I know our forces are stretched and have had merciless cutbacks but I can’tsee Argentina making a go for the islands again,let alone be successful”. Ridge replied sternly.

“When PresidentObama went on his recent world tour he referred to theislands as the Malvinas”. Adam countered.

“Obama’s hatredof the British is well documented. A quick jibe nothing more I assureyou”.

Adam leanedback and sipped his smoothie.

“I’m notconvinced Ridge”.

“Look I assumeyou asked me here for my opinion. I’ve gave it to you. There is no wayArgentina will get those islands back. And what’s more if this is Doomwatch’slatest assignment then someone is taking the Mickey”.

Adam rubbedhis sweating brow.

“How youmanaging staying off the booze?” Ridge asked seriously.

“It’s astruggle, but one I intend to win”. Adam replied.
“Good, I’m glad.If you need any help you know…”.

Adam noddedin reply to Timmons.

WESTFALKANDS. 23:00 ST.

The marine on garrison marchedrepetitively with his SA-80 in hand. He was a dedicated man like all marineswho believed deeply in duty and the honour of being a Royal Marine. He had noidea he was being watched.

Timmons sat at his office earlyin the morning there was a note on his desk asking him to call the foreignoffice immediately. He sighed fetched himself a black coffee from the vendingmachine and then set about ringing the foreign office. He was annoyed to learnthat the subject was to delicate to be discussed over the phone and theyrequested his company. Timmons knew full well that the subject was theFalklands Islands and Argentina once again vying for what she saw as herterritory.

BUENOSAIRES.

Inside theparliament a debate was raging about the economy. However there was a morepressing issue at the heart of many Argentineans the Malvinas. It was hopedthat perhaps in the global economic climate a deal could be truck with GreatBritain to purchase the islands. However this was rejected. GreatBritain has always denied it has kept the islands because of oil rights in thatregion. However is was an established fact that there was abundance of fossil fuels around the Southern Ocean. Argentinalike Great Britain had debts of her own. Great Britain already had North Seagas and the scientific government bodies in Argentina had extensive plans ofhow the same could be achieved with the Falklands. Yet the British seemedcontent for the moment to leave the fuel where it lay. Argentina had triedsensitively to raise issues regarding the Falklands and fossil fuels but theyhad been equally sensitively brushed aside. This was no linger just a matter ofa countries hubris it was now a matter of economics. Just as the allied forceswere invading Libya for the oil as they had done it Iraq so Argentina needed tothe same to the Falklands Islands regardless of UN or British threats. Thestage was now set….

And Argentina had full backingfrom the United States of America.

GreatBritain had the support of China. The two superpowers would now play out theirbattle between the lesser countries of the United Kingdom and Argentina. Withthe Falklands Islands as the battleground.

In thePentagon various military strategists were reviewing the scene. In theoryArgentina could take the island but they would need to use much of theirmilitary. So much that they might not get UN sanctions. The British garrisonthere were Royal Marines and as such on of the best trained fighting forces inthe world. Then there was the curious factor unique to the British. When theyare backed into a corner they are at their most dangerous. Everyone expectedArgentina to win the islands in 1982 but despite everything the British won.

Therefore elite strategists mustbe sent from the US to Argentina to assist with the planning. The US weredetermined to belittle and reduce British Military power unless as a fightingforce operating with American forces and ambitions.

Still Whitehall were certainthat there would be no armed action to try to take the Falklands. Even Ridgewas certain that even if Argentina tried they would inevitably fail. But AdamQuist suspected differently.

Ridge wasthe first to be surprised when Adam summoned him to Doomwatch. Timmons had beeninformed only 15 minutes before the story had broke. Argentina had launched anattack upon the Falklands.

“Idon’t believe it. We have all been caught with our dicks in the jam”. Ridgesaid eloquently.

“200Royal Marines overcome by what intelligence believe to be 500 Argentineanmarines in some sort of gas attack. No fatality’s. The US hasalready stepped in as mediator”. Adam said.

Ridgelaughed sarcastically.

“Thenthe Falklands are as good as lost”. Ridge said solemnly.

“Itseems that they weren’t safe after all Ridge”. Adam replied.

S2E15 - NEVER LET ME DOWN AGAIN by GRANT FOXON

2011-06-17T04:29:00.000-07:00

“Political power comes out of the barrel of a gun”.
MAO TSE TUNG

BIRMINGHAM CITY CENTRE 12:15.

The weather was a brilliant sunlight burning deep into the atmosphere and lightening the pact Birmingham city centre. All ethnicities mixed together in relative harmony. A genuine 21st century melting pot. People hurried around like ants their time filled with their busy lives.
Outside the library students sat around talking idly baking in the heat. It was then that one noticed a strange silhouette in the sky. Her first thoughts were it was some kind of glider a smaller plane even. Then it began to swoop down.

The vehicle was a US military drone. Unknown to the onlookers nearby it was about to terminate their very existence.

The missiles fired quickly in succession The explosions were huge. The old beautiful library was no more. Neither were 47 people who were killed in the attack…

Adam Quist could not believe the horrific footage he just witnessed. Timmons was almost speechless.

“Why the hell did this happen?” Adam demanded.
“The US has only apologised as far as I know. They will probably offer some money, they usually do”.
“What the hell right did they have to launch a drone ion the first place!”
Timmons sighed pathetically.
“I’ve learned that they do what they want. Our powers are limited in comparison”.
“This could be interpreted as an act of war”.
“I believe they were looking for a possible terrorist”.
“Does it really matter. They don’t seem to bother about the legality when they send the people to Cuba to rot illegally”. Adams was scathing with anger.
Miranda entered.
“I’ve just brought Paul back from the airport”.
Adam nodded.
“Have they allowed him to be a free man?” Adam asked Timmons.
“I believe so”.
“What has the Asian community made of this attack?” Adam asked.
“That’s what my superiors want from Doomwatch. An investigation.In recent years anti American sentiment in the UK has being growingdramatically. There is a concern that the embassies will be attacked”.
Adam stared straight into Timmons eyes.
“Maybe they should”.
“Come on Quist. We’re not going to go to war or fall out with the US”.
“If enough people here revolt, you can’t stop them. Unless the US aregoing to bombard us with nukes?”

Col Adams was a burly American GI who had seen action in Iraq and Yugoslavia. He was a devout American and would defend his countries honour against a foe no matter how formidable they might appear. British intelligence wanted to grill him over the recent deaths in Birmingham. Some of the more extreme members even wanted the states severely punished. But Col Adams and they knew this was not going to happen. The US was responsible only to itself and God. It was these words that every US military operative in command understood. The US after all was the arsenal of democracy.

The President of the US issued a statement via his subordinates, but the British Prime Minister and his cabinet knew this would not be enough. There had to be reasons for the drone in British skies and there had to be suitable compensation. The US offered a fund of 2 million dollars but could not explain the reasons the drone was over UK skies. The Prime Minister had to break the dead lock somehow.

“The President of the United States deeply regrets the incident in Birmingham andwill of course financially compensate all people and indeed the library for any harmcaused by the drone”. The advisor stated flatly.
“Why was it there?” The Prime Minister demanded.
The advisor flushed.

“Sir, Prime Minister. My government is currently following up operations which relate to the Taliban and indeed our current fighting in Afghanistan”.
“If it involves my country I want an explanation damn it!”

The Prime Minster thumped his desk.
“Unfortunately at this present time no explanation can be given. However wewould appreciate any cooperation you could give us Prime Minister”.

The Prime Minister could hardly believe the words he was hearing.

“This is not acceptable!” He demanded.

The advisor was shocked by the outburst.

“I’m afraid sir it has to be. By orders of the President of the United States ofAmerica”.
“Now you listen to me you little prick. Your country will tell me what the hella drone spy plane was doing over my country within 24 hours else all military involvement featuring my country and all US military equipment in this country will be seized”.

The advisor smiled superciliously.

“Sir don’t push us. We will bury you if need be”.
“24 hours. Now get the fuck out of office”.

The advisor scowled, then saluted and disappeared.

Paul returned to Doomwatch. He sat behind his new desk.

“Well what do you think of place?” Adam asked.
“It’s…I prefer it”.
“Yeah. I’m surprised they gave us bigger premises”.
“So what are we working on boss?”
“You know about that recent US drone attack?”
“Yeah”.
“We’ve been asked to investigate and curb the growing anti-American sentiment herein the UK”.

Paul smiled.

“A lot easier said than done boss”.
“Agreed. In the last ten years post 9/11 the British people are growing indistrust not only of Muslim peoples but also of Americans. The wars theyhave dragged us into and the waste of lives. Look at Afghanistan. No one hasever won there. Be it Russian or us in the past. This drone attack which theleft wing press have been whipping up into a frenzy will no doubt permanentlydebase Anglo-American relations”.

Adam replied sombrely.

The conversation was then interrupted by the telephone. Adam grabbed the receiver and listened tentatively to the voice on the other end before hanging up.

“Not good news I take it?” Paul asked.
“That was Timmons. The US embassy here in London has just been firebombed”.

In the US military they have a colloquialism. It’s FUBAR, what it stands for is Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

The news of the US embassy being firebombed in London was a great shock to the US government. They expected the British government to have it under control already and safe stories prepared to their media. But no. The British people had united under a banner of Anti-Americanism. It wasn’t just the British either. Desperate not to be outdone in their dislike of the US, the US embassy in Paris had also been attacked.
Col Adams was furious. The British were meant to be their most dedicated allies. In truth the people had shown their true colours. Of all the US had done for them. However his superiors were desperate to rebuild relations rather than fall out. The UK was valuable to the US in terms of being the door into Europe. It also had a large US base in the south of Britain. The directive came through that the US were to offer more money to Britain in compensation and a explanation for the drone attack (that was currently being created at the Pentagon). Col Adams hated cowing down to the Brits. But orders are orders.

Adam Quist and Miranda sat with Timmons in the autopsy room.

“Here’s the fellow”.

The forensic doctor wheeled a body out and pulled back the sheet. The body was a dead white male in his forties.

“So this man is the one that the US claim to be after?” Adam asked unnerved by the dead body.

“Apparently he converted three years ago to Islam and they believe he was involved in certain activities”.

Timmons replied.

“Cause of death?” Adam asked.
“Please take a look”. The doctor said.

Adam glanced at Miranda to look. Miranda nodded and removed the sheet and looked over the body. Her attention was drawn to the eyes. There were what appeared to be tiny starfish in the eyes. In reality they were burst capillaries.

“Suffocation”. Miranda announced.
“Spot on. Probably with a pillow”. The doctor replied.

Adam turned to Timmons.

“You people believe this bollocks?” Adam asked.
“No. The US are feeding us misinformation”.
“Why?”

Col Adams was briefed that morning that the United States of America might be approaching defcom 3. The last time they had reached this level of security was 9/11. What the hell was going on?

“The US are lying to us. They have sent warplanes over and killed our civilians. This is an act of war. And they’re now bullshitting us with some ridiculous story?”

Adam announced. Timmons nodded reluctantly.

“But why are they doing this?” Timmons said.
“The US has been the world power since WW2. Every empire crumbles. Perhapsthe military/industrial complex has finally sent them insane. With money beingdrained away in the middle east, oil running out, revolutions and China the upand coming world power already dominating the Pacific perhaps this day was inevitable”. Adam said coolly.

Miranda and Timmons exchanged a worried look.

“It’s only a theory”. Adam said half joking.
“If the US would send a drone killer over our skies and kill civilians, then what’s tostop them nuking their enemies?” Miranda questioned.
“Or us?” Timmons added.

Col Adams was greeted by Charles “chuck” Walker. A senator and former military men and one of the few human beings Col Adams would salute and call sir.

“Well you look good Adams”. Chuck said genuinely.
“Thank you sir”.
“Adams, you know we’re at defcon 3 don’t you?”
“Yes sir I was wondering why”.
“Look son, Adams, this isn’t easy to me…to anyone. Fact of the damn matter is the world has changed. All the other countries you see now…they can’t be trusted.The cold war ended twenty God damn years ago and yet I still wouldn’t trust a Russian. Even the ungrateful Brits are whining like bitches. Son the world is changing and soon everyone else will turn on us. This might be our last chance to stop everyone else with nuclear weapons. Stop anyone else ever challenging us”.

Col Adams couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was patriotic and right wing, but nuking the rest of the world was too much even for him.

“Sir?”
“Oh don’t look at me like that. You don’t want to see the land of liberty fall do you?”
“I take national security and patriotism very seriously. But pre-emptive strikes against the rest of the world seem…a bit much”.

Chuck sat back shocked by Col Adams.

“Fucking hell Adams, I never had you down as a God damn communist”.
“Sir I’m not. I just think this action is paranoid and can’t be justified…” Adams cried.

Chuck slammed his fists down on the table.

“You listen to me you son of a bitch! If you leave the US border what you got? Fucking Mexicans and Canadians you go further a field what then have you got?Fucking French and Italians further still you get Chinese and Russians. These ain’tproper people son! They all god damn foreign fuckers who take pot shots at ourglorious constitution. But they still expect us to help them! Wellfuck them all. If you aren’t US then your enemy. Which side are youon Adams!” Chuck roared.

Col Adams thought for a moment then stood up and saluted.

“I’m American sir!”
“That a boy. Now lets nuke the bastards”. Chuck replied proudly.

The cabinet assembled for a emergency meeting. The meeting was to be kept a complete secret. Polaris submarines believe they have tracked three US Trident C4 class submarines in British waters. Following on from the drone attack the heads of the military suggested the subs are sunk before the US attack us here.
The Prime Ministers hands were tied, he wanted to attack but the US was too powerful. He dare not antagonise them.

“Sir we have just received a communication from the Chinese embassy“. The assistant said hurriedly.

“God damn it we’re in session here!” The PM roared taking his frustration out on the assistant.
“Sir, its regarding the situation”.

The PM shot up and snatched the piece of paper from the assistants hand and read it. The allowed himself a brief smile.

“The Chinese government sympathises with the United Kingdom and isprepared both economically and militarily to warn the US off us should theneed arise”.

The cabinet exchanged puzzled glances.

“Send a message back thanking the Chinese government and tell them we would deeply like to form a new “special relationship” with them”.

The assistant nodded and fled the room.

“It seems gentlemen we’re not the only ones with common sense”. The Prime Minister declared as he made a b-line for the whisky.

“I’d sing the Internationale now if I knew the words”. The Deputy Prime Minister declared.

Col Adams stood silently as Chuck paced the room.

“You see the fucking Brits can’t trust them! They could have all been Chinese damn communists for years!”

Col Adams had to play for time. It was becoming painfully clear that Chuck had lost his mind. He had become a paranoid mess. Spent far too many years in the US senate and in foreign relations. He now believed the rest of the world had to be crushed once and for all for future US safety. This was not the US that Col Adams stood for. He stood for democracy and freedom. He had fearlessly fought throughout the cold war against communists and their corruptions.
Col Adams had to get a word out to someone else in the senate asap before Chuck did any more damage.

Timmons was briefed on the situation. He was told that the “special relationship” with America had become strained of late. He was also told that the situation was cooling down. For the moment the government were keeping quiet about the assistance from China.

Timmons knew they were keeping the details back from him deliberately. But he was not in a position to challenge them. Instead he returned to his duties.

Adam Quist followed the news trying to work out what would be done regarding America. The US government issued a apology and edict and did their best to stop Britain losing face. He wondered what had really happened behind the scenes.

In a secret location in Beijing a elderly man with glasses stared at his computer screen. Suddenly a infectious smile broke out over his face…

THE END

DOOMWATCH ADAM QUIST FAN FICTION - S2E01 - THE METAL MEN - Part 2 of 2

2011-05-21T05:27:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH ADAM QUIST FAN FICTION - S2E01 - THE METAL MEN - Part 1 of 2

2011-05-21T05:26:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH Fan Fiction Story - Strawberry Flavoured Death - Part 4 of 4

2011-05-21T04:09:00.001-07:00

DOOMWATCH Fan Fiction Story - Strawberry Flavoured Death - Part 3 of 4

2011-05-21T04:09:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH Fan Fiction Story - Strawberry Flavoured Death - Part 2 of 4

2011-05-21T03:52:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH Fan Fiction Story - Strawberry Flavoured Death - Part 1 of 4

2011-05-21T03:51:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH 2010 PART 2 OF 2

2011-05-21T03:35:00.001-07:00

DOOMWATCH 2010 PART 1 OF 2

2011-05-21T03:35:00.000-07:00

ADAM QUIST S2E14 - CONDITION: CRITICAL

2011-04-15T01:37:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH CONDITION: CRITICAL
By GRANT FOXON

“One death is a tragedy, a million a statistic”.
JOSEF STALIN

Kashiwazaki-Kariwa nuclear power plant. JAPAN
The Earthquake struck Japan with sudden ferocity. It measured 8.9 magnitude. Immediately the staff acted to prevent damage to the reactor core. However the water supply was damaged and thus unable to prevent the cooling needed for meltdown. A immediate evacuation of a fifteen mile radius was put in place. And 20,000 evacuated. To put this into perspective 10,000 were killed all over Japan in the epic earthquake within 24 hours. However in a worse case scenario 100,000 could die and leave most of Japan sterile and uninhabitable. The long reaching effect of this disaster would mean mass immigration of Japans over population and huge financial burden as Japan has one of the strongest economies but also is home to several leading consumer electronic companies in the world.
Timmons finished the report. Adam and Miranda looked dumbfounded.
“Dear God”. Miranda broke the silence.
“So what do they want us to do?” Adam asked.
“They want the best tech heads we can find and send them out there. They want Paul Grover”. Timmons said quietly.
Adam jumped up.
“Out of the question. He’s in no fit state”.
“He is now a political pawn of the American government, he owes them. He has the necessary knowledge he could prove vital…”
“And I’m telling you he’s in psychological condition to go out there!” Adam roared defiantly.
“Well that decision is not yours to make”. Timmons replied angrily.
“If they need him to save lives…” Miranda began.
“He’s future wife and unborn child were murdered!” Adam exclaimed.
“And many more could die if that reactor goes critical!” Timmons shouted back.

Paul Grover sat alone. A husk of a human being. He still possessed his intelligence and his memories but that was all. He had been pushed to the edge, and fallen face first into the abyss.
The room was sparse not that Paul noticed. All of a sudden the door opened and Timmons entered.
“Paul, it’s good to see you”.
Paul glanced up at Timmons. Timmons couldn’t tell if he even recognised him.
“What do you want?” Paul asked quietly.
“You know about the recent incident at the Japanese reactors? Shakedown are being prepared from global specialists. You’re wanted on one of these teams”.
“I’m expendable you mean? I suppose if I died it would tie up some awkward loose ends wouldn’t it?”
Timmons was shocked by Paul’s words.

“No one is expendable damn it, we need to stop those reactors going critical. Do you have anything better to do?”
“No”.
“Then I arrange a briefing for you”.
Timmons turned to leave the room wishing Paul would say something to dispel the awkward silence but he didn’t.

Adam and Miranda looked at the reports in front of them.
“The green lobby are going to love this”. Miranda said.
“If those reactors go critical then maybe a third of Japan would be uninhabitable. However as the world as never seen a disaster on such a scale it could be worse. All ready by closing down those plants Japan has lost 25 % of her energy. The blackouts are going to cause unprecedented damage”. Adam read aloud the report for dramatic effect.
“Do they have a Doomwatch?” Miranda asked.
“Everywhere has them, however I wonder how many are ignored”.
“You’re worried about Paul aren’t you?”
“Sending a broken, suicidal man into a critical reactor doesn’t seem one of Timmons better orders”.
Paul sat in the briefing room with thirty other people chosen for the shakedown team. The briefing was surprising short chaired by a British General called Macpherson.
“As you are all aware natural radiation constitutes 2-3 msv’s per annum. Cancer is caused at 100 msv’s. To place perspective when Chernobyl went critical 350 msv’s were released. The plant were going to contains 400 msvs. As yet it’s cooled but we’re depending on you to get that down further”.
“How much danger are we in?” asked a nervous underweight not unattractive woman.
“There is risk of radioactive contamination. But we’re hoping to limit the time you spend there. 30 minutes per person every 12 hours”. Macpherson replied.
There was a concerned silence that followed.
“How likely are we to succeed?” A very nervous scientist asked.
“I wont lie. The situation is bad but not quite critical. The shakedown teams were assembling are the last chance the establishment has. The lives of many thousands of Japanese nationals are in your hands. No pressure”. Macpherson concluded glumly.
The flight was quiet. A sombre mood haunted the experts as they flew out to Japan.
Arriving over Japanese airspace the com became alive with various signals and phrases highlighting the angst that emanating all over the country.
Adam couldn’t help but reflect upon his father guilt. The guilt of his involvement in the Manhattan Project. His guilt of the atomic bombs dropped over Japan all those years ago. If the reactors go up the release of radiation and ensuing explosions would be like it all over again. Only far worse globally. Japan has one of the biggest economies. An economy that is needed to bolster up the western world. Not only that but Japan is responsible for 50% of the worlds Microchips. Already prices for computers and other electronic software were set to go through the roof. The ominous Mayan prediction of the world ending in 2012 seemed to be becoming a horrible reality.

As the shakedown crews were assembled. Paul was on one of the first to go into the reactor. The Japanese authorities there spoke excellent English as they fully equipped the crews with radiation protective gear and iodine tablets. They also were confident or at least suppressed their fears and anxieties about the situation.
“How much do the media know?” Macpherson asked on of the Japanese officials.
“Only a little bit less of what they need to”. Replied the official.
Macpherson nodded to indicate the reply was acceptable.

Inside the reactor the machinery was alive with beeps and noises almost like an electronic heartbeat. Not for the first time of late Paul’s thoughts turned to his possible death. Where he died made no difference and wasn’t important. All that mattered was that he was dead.
Paul walked over to the fellow members of the shakedown team were examining the plans of the place.
“Well these guys sure knew what they were doing. I mean dumb place to build it…but a beautiful structure none the less”. Said a scientist with a long Texan drawl.
“We know what we’re doing. Our main objective is too make sure the core in there doesn’t overheat. We need to increase the coolant pressure asap. God alone knows how long this place has got”.
“So why didn’t the coolant naturally activate?” “The earthquake knocked it out”. Came the short reply.
There was an awkward silence.
“Oh great. Just great. Why are we hear. If that’s the case then evacuate the area”.
“Listen to me! This reactor is too big. If she goes into meltdown then tons of radioactive materials get thrown our into the Pacific Ocean. We can’t afford for that to happen. We have to fix the problem and get the coolant working. Failure cannot be an option”.

At Doomwatch an anxious Adam Quist and Miranda waited for any new information. The TV was permanently locked onto the 24 hour news channels.
“Do you think that the reactor their could go critical?” Miranda asked.
“Anything is possible. Although that would only be the beginning of the troubles”.
“Not for Paul”. Miranda replied.
Adam glared at her.
“No, not for Paul”.

Paul made his way with the shakedown team to the control room. This reactor was well maintained and the technology was updated regularly. As such there was positive void coefficient of reactivity already in place. This would make the clean up procedures a lot easier. However if this is damaged in the earthquakes then this would mean that should the place go critical more radioactive materials would escape.
The Texan examined the controls and then looked up.
“Well good news is the tanks aren’t ruptured. All the light-water is still there”.
“Great, check the core”.
The Texan nodded and approached the appropriate panel.
Paul threw his arms into the air.
“Quiet everyone! Listen!”
There was a faint echoing.
“What is it?”
“Something is trapped. It’s caught in the pipeline and that could explain why the coolants wont flow”. Paul announced.
“He could be right!” Exclaimed the Texan excitedly.
Everyone stayed quietly for a moment whilst examining the plans.
“The earthquake and tsunami were huge. It’s conceivable that the coolant pipes could be blocked”.
“How the hell do we unblock them?”
Paul gazed at the plans.
“That would depend where they’re blocked. There’s vent shafts all along the pipeline, but not near the core. If the blockage is there then we can’t do it”. He said pragmatically.
“We’d better hope it isn’t there then”. Replied the Texan.
“We should begin by working our way through the pipeline. When our time is up the next shakedown team can carry on from where we got to”. Paul spoke with authority. It had the desired effect as everyone listened intently to his words.

“Agreed”.

Macpherson spoke poor Japanese but this didn’t seem to matter as the Japanese liaison spoke perfect English.
“Mr Saad, the shakedown team believe they have discovered a possible reason for the problem”. Macpherson reported.
“What is it Mr Macpherson?”
“A blockage somewhere in the pipe line. The system is unable to flood the reactor with light water and flush down the heavy water”.
“Thank you Mr Macpherson but I am familiar with the problem a blockage can pose. Do they know where along the pipeline said blockage is?
“That is still being determined”.
“I see. Thank you Mr Macpherson”.
Mr Saad walked away with his shoulders high like a frightened cat. Macpherson wasn’t sure if that was his normal unfriendly demeanour or the pressure of the current position he was in.
Suddenly Davis a tall and gangly scientist came running over to Macpherson.
“Sir! We’ve just had this in from the meterological department. The earthquake that hit Japan was a foreshock!”
“Meaning, that it was merely a pre-emptive warning quake. We think a larger one could hit the same part of Japan in hours or even minutes!”
Macpherson couldn’t believe it.
“Get the met office to confirm the intel!” Macpherson barked.
Davis nodded and ran out of the room.
“You can’t pull the shakedown crew out. If that is the case then it’s even more important we can flood the reactor with coolant”. Saad replied.
As much as Macpherson hated to argue he realised that Mr Saad was right. Too many lives could be lost if the shakedown crew was pulled out.
Miranda was finding the tension unbearable and was unable to concentrate on her work. She envied Adam’s ability to completely ungage his emotions. He was calm and unreadable. But she knew he was just as concerned for Paul’s safety if not more.
The shakedown team were fast approaching the time they would have to pull out of the reactor for fear of radioactive contamination.
“The blockage doesn’t seem to be effecting the core catching device”. The Texan commented.
“So in theory all could be ok”.
A BRIEF NOTE ON THE EMOTIONAL TRANSFERENCE.
Paul Grover, is a broken man. He currently has become detached from life. In effect he is a walking corpse as he is no longer prey top the strengths and weaknesses that a fully functional member of society is. He would welcome death as it would complete his becoming. The mission has restored a sense of purpose due to its incredible importance. This was why he was chosen. Most of the scientists picked for the shakedown missions were broken people who need a drive. This is why they are perfect. They are all willing to die. Their mission denotes a large chance they will die. They have no next of kin. Their deaths will not inspire charity foundations are unwanted media attention. Simply the cold dry earth.
The hatred and pain Paul Grover feels is being transferred into mental energy for the mission. He would gladly sacrifice his life in the mission. Death would be a release and more importantly it would mean he is free from the pain. The life’s saved matter little to Paul.
The met office confirmed the worst. A bigger earthquake was expected very soon in the same area of Japan. The shakedown teams had much less time. And with it the possibility that the reactor could be saved from going critical diminished.
The team worked fast as they were all aware time was running out.
“I don’t think the blockage is in the reactor”. A stout female scientist muttered.
“Why?” Paul asked.
“The controls can go into meltdown. It’s just the blockage which is preventing it. If the blockage was too close to the reactor then it would register of the emergency incident panel. It must be near us”. She cried frustrated.
“It’s a stupid place to build a reactor anyway!” She continued frustrated.
“It’s the future that shapes the present not the past”. Paul replied.
All of a sudden the walky talky sprang to life.
“We’ve found it”.
“Go ahead what was it?”
“Bodies. They’re pretty much pulped. Check your readings”.
The Texan immediately typed quickly on the keyboard.
“No there still registering a fault over”.
There was a harsh sound of static.
“Wait there’s some metal pipes in here”.
“That’s it! You’ve got it. I’m lowering the isotopes into the light water!”
The Texan screamed happily.
“That damn bastard!”
A siren sounded as the isotope was lowered.
“Heavy water is being flushed down to the containment tank. We’ve done it!”
All of a sudden the praise was interrupted as the ground began to shake violently. The radio sprung to life.
“Pull out! Repeat pull out it’s another earthquake!” Macpherson screamed down the radio.
Suddenly the building began to shake more and more intensely. The sound was coupled with a low frequency growl.
“The infrastructure wont survive another quake!” screamed a over excited man.
“No we can’t leave without the others!” cried Paul.
Paul wasn’t really concerned about the others but merely wanted to remain in the building so he could die.

Adam sat at his desk as Miranda paced. The phone rung it was Timmons. Adam’s conversation was short.
“Well what did he say?” Miranda demanded.
“The isotope has been lowered, the radioactivity is at a minimum at the moment”.
“And Paul?”
There was an awkward silence.
“He’s out of there. They wont know yet if he’s clear regarding contamination”.

THE END.

Multiculturism doesn’t work

2011-03-08T00:58:00.001-08:00

Is British Society F*cked?

“Multiculturism doesn’t work”. That was the recent revelation regarding probably the greatest social change the country has seen in the last fifty years. In truth it could work as I am proud to believe that the British people are more liberal and accepting than arguably any other country. What has failed is rushing through legislation and turning a minority into a “protected species” whilst those who are in the majority who question such actions are labelled bigoted. Immigration for example is a made up fear. It has gone on for years and perhaps the previous regime deliberately loosened the laws but the real criminals are the newspaper magnets who create feelings of fear, chaos and indeed breed racism by sensationalist headlines.

“We all have to pay for the deficit”. This is the reason why we’re all in debt. I don’t want to preach about why I despise the Labour party so much, or go on about how they got us into these predicament but the fact of the matter is we are. Despite people working hard and saving it’s all been for nothing. We’re in debt that isn’t our own making.

People are scared nowadays. Part of the problem is a increase in technology. Technology advances technology, however I still believe to an extent it is harmful to ourselves and certainly to society. People no longer talk or communicate verbally instead they use social networking to. We are becoming insular and people don’t even seem to mind or care? Society is being destroyed and people instead of fiddling whilst Rome burns, are tweeting.

EU. Europe. Despite politicians of every party saying it’s wonderful the zeitgeist with the British peoples is far from it. That I believe is the reason we don’t get a referendum on it because they know what they would say. The EU has always been a trading and political union that favours the Mediterranean countries.

In closing I just like to say….well you know.

With thanks to Grant Foxon

FAN FILM FOLLIES INTERVIEW

2011-02-19T15:53:00.000-08:00

A huge thanks to Lee Sands for interviewing Scott Burditt and Grant Foxon, creators of the Adam Quist series of Doomwatch for the Fan Film Follies website. The site is for people who are so inspired by a movie and television program that they want to make their own material. The interview is online at Fan Film Follies here

DOOMWATCH - STRAWBERRY FLAVOURED DEATH AUDIO COMPLETED

2011-02-18T02:29:00.000-08:00

STRAWBERRY FLAVOURED DEATH is a new Fan produced audio drama based on a continuation of the classic BBCtv series DOOMWATCH has been completed. It is written by SCOTT BURDITT & Narrated by DAVID NAGEL. Title Music by DEMENTIO13.Incidental Music is by TONY DIANA. The story was written for the Adam Quist Season 1, Episode 12.

Synopsis

A new Strawberry Flavoured mouthwash causes a stir on the Wirral. Sales are through the roof, but people are falling ill. Scott Black been temporarily assigned to Doomwatch on loan from M.I.5, as all but Adam is off sick. He is sent to investigate the originating company, a PURETASTE and a Jim Harrington discovers that his carelessness and a selfish lifestyle can kill.

A huge thanks to David Nagel at www.damproductions.org and to Tony Diana at Necromare in the U.S for the excellent incidental music.

DOOMWATCH - THE INCIPIENT SCHISM By Gerry Fobon

2011-02-13T06:40:00.000-08:00

“Fortune favours the prepared mind”.
Louis Pasteur

FRANCE

The meeting was just about as productive as Adam Quist thought it was going to be. Which was nothing. Scientific representatives from various EU countries discussing climate change with no real result in sight and a lot of taxpayer’s money wasted. Miranda and Ridge looked at one another bored. Their driver Miguel had proved humorous company.

“Miguel I gather there are problems with ghetto areas in France?” Miranda asked.
“Ah typical foreigner phrase. Ghettos would seem the wrong term. These aren’t persecuted microcosm societies like say in the US or Africa with segregation. It’s more based on wealth. France is split into wealthy and poor zones. It does cause issues and crime is rife in ethnic poor zones, but I believe the issue is being addressed. The problem is the rich are very rich and the poor…what can you do?”
“Is there much social care for the poorer peoples?” Adam asked.

Miguel laughed before he answered.
“Oh yes, you think we will have another revolution yes? No France cares about all its citizens. We just not crazed liberalists like the English. In France if a man or woman commits a crime they are punished. In your country it seems the criminal is protected? You might find the poorer areas abhorrent to you socialists but in France we find your liberal attitudes to crime just as sickening”.

Despite the in depth nature of the discussion the mood was still light. Indeed after the stressful and pointless meeting it felt good just too talk truthfully without fear of saying the wrong thing to the wrong person.

The drive away from the city through the suburbs after a series of road diversions made depressing viewing. These areas despite Miguel’s pure patriotism were a depressing sight of poverty.

“Is this the best route to the airport?”
“It’s roughly the same but more scenic”. Miguel joked sarcastically.

Suddenly the front tyres blew out. Miranda startled caught her head on the window. Miguel hit the breaks.

“What the hell happened?” Adam shouted.

Miguel jumped out of the car.

“Salaud!” Miguel exclaimed.

Adam climbed out the car. He couldn’t believe the sight before him. The entire width of the road was a metre thick with broken glass.

“You still want to defend these people?” Miguel asked Miranda.
Miranda didn’t know how to reply.

Miguel pulled out his mobile and began to dial numbers.

“I can’t believe it?”
“Ghettos. These people have little hope. They attack the class divide”. Adam replied.

“That doesn’t help us. In fact this…attack has nothing to do with us”. Miranda returned outraged by Adam’s apparent sympathy for the criminals.

“I’m afraid I can get through to the office. I propose we sit tight until I can get through”. Miguel said.
“What about heading into there? Surely they will have amenities? Maybe even a bus or taxi service?” Adam said pointing towards the housing estate.
“Those…animals did this Mr Quist. To pursue a line of enquiry that way would not only be fruitless it would be degrading”.
“I agree”. Announced Miranda.

Adam through his hands into the air in a gesture of defeat. Miguel turned to Miranda.
“I believe the expression you’re looking for is bloody lefties?”
“I was thinking of something stronger than bloody”.

Miguel laughed then Miranda.
“We really shouldn’t be laughing”. She said.
“I fear the alternative would be crying”. Miguel replied.
Miranda smiled back. At this point she realised she had entered fully fledged flirt mode.

“It’ll be getting dark soon, I don’t fancy spending the night in a car. Especially as Miranda snores…”

Miguel glanced awkwardly at Miranda, who blushed.
“No he’s joking, we haven’t…”
Miguel smiled. Shit, sounded to eager there. Miranda thought.
“Anyway I say we go into town”. Adam announced defiantly.
“Mr Quist please, those ghettos are a maze and full of the sorts of people one really doesn’t want to bump into”.
“Or see?”
“Look we all know your liberal views which are glaringly obvious. But this is France and I am a Frenchman and I tell you those places are full of scum”.

Miguel turned and lit up a cigarette. Miranda strolled over to Adam.

“You’ve upset him now”.
“Miranda, I’m sure you’ll still get your leg over. He’s French after all”.

Adam strolled off in the opposite direction.

Men? Miranda thought in her head. Have I technically just committed a hate crime in my head by thinking men? This was then followed by the thought Shit am I censoring myself now?

This train of thought was interrupted by the shocking sound of Adam urinating up a nearby tree.

“You’re deliberately attention seeking aren’t you!” Miranda cried out.
“I’m a recovering alcoholic, I’m entitled to attention seek that’s what we do!” Adam called back.

Miranda walked towards Miguel.
“I’m sorry about all this”. Miranda muttered quietly.
“I see the stories of British women being sexually repressed his true?” Miguel asked grinning innately.
“Well sort of. Although our chavette populace would disagree somewhat”.
“Chavette? What is this?”
“I suppose they’re your equivalent of those people in there”. Miranda said indicating to the ghetto areas.
“Listen to me I sound like HG Wells going on about lesser beings. I’ll be marching into Poland next”. Miranda said then realised her possible comment being offensive to a Frenchman smiled innocently.

“Don’t worry, whatever happens we will sleep together”. Miguel said.

Miranda glared at him confused. It’s true she wanted to shag him but she didn’t like the idea of him just stating that. Even though essentially she was a submissive person sexually. That makes no sense? Miranda asked her subconscious. In reply it shrugged.

“Where’s Adam?” Miguel asked.

Miranda glanced around. He was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s sulking. Adam! Adam!” Miranda called out.
“The fool has made for the ghetto”. Miguel replied annoyed.

Miguel slammed the car door shut in irritation and locked the door.

“You had better come with me after him”.
“I’m glad you’ve seen the same amount of slasher films as me. Splitting up is suicide”. Miranda said.
“This isn’t a game. Someone put the glass there! It’s feasible that they could be watching at if you wait here alone they could rape or kill you”.

The implication of these words sunk in.
“That’s really possible?” Miranda asked.
“I told you. These people are scum”.

Miguel offered his hand and Miranda took it. Together they ventured towards the ghetto.

They walked for about forty minutes till they were at the edge of the estate. Even in the setting sun the sense of urban decay was unmistakeable.

“You seemed shocked? Are you going to say there is no urban decay in the UK? Or do you have somewhere better to store them?”
“Like Algiers?”

Miguel smiled.
“Touché”.

Miranda could smell burning. Her grip on Miguel’s hand tightened.
“Can you smell that?”
“Let us just hope they haven’t decided to set your friend on fire”.
“Don’t say that”. Miranda replied in desperation.

Suddenly as they walked a sharp pain struck Miranda in the leg. She gasped, at first she thought she had been bitten. Then she realised she had been shot with a pellet gun.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Miranda asked.

Miguel spun round.

“I think from where we came”.
“Oh great”.
“Come on”.

Miguel carefully hurried Miranda down the road towards the estate.

The estate at first glance was a normal housing estate. Despite the adrenalin racing through her body Miranda felt no fear about her new environment. There were no obvious foreboding structures or graffiti.

Miguel could feel Miranda slowing to a halt with fear.

“Do you remember the six day war between Israel and the Arab states? Despite overwhelming numbers Israel won. Because they had better tactics”.

Miranda looked up at Miguel.

“That’s comforting I was hoping to avoid a war”. Miranda replied.
“Look, it’s getting darker and we’ve mislaid Quist”.

Suddenly Miguel’s words were interrupted by a huge bang. Fire illuminated the darkening sky.

“That was…the car?” Miranda said barely able to breathe.

Miguel grabbed Miranda and they ran as best she could manage back to the car. Sure enough it was on fire.

“What the hell is going on?” Miranda cried.
“Shut up!”

Miguel clamped his hands over her mouth.
“Someone is fucking with us. We can’t let them know we’re scared. Because that will make them more confident with whatever they’ve got planned for us”.

Miranda nodded in reply, Miguel let his hands fall away.

In the shadows the disaffected and dispossessed aggressors watched on with only a passive interest at the quarry before them. They had yet to decide whether these strangers would live or die. As yet no police had arrived looking for them. Not that the police often came here anymore. Not in small numbers anyway. They had learned a lesson that they’re jurisdiction didn’t extent to here. They no longer really felt emotions. Alcohol and hard drugs were of limited appeal. They encouraged weakness. These unnamed forgotten people got intoxicated on reading about homemade explosives and SS Werewolves Guerrilla handbooks and memoirs.
The shadows barely exchanged words with each other; they were so disenfranchised from their own humanity. Instead they exchanged glances. They knew when to read the bloodlust in each other eyes.

With that the fate of Miranda and Miguel was sealed.

Miranda tried to remain calm but it was proving too difficult. Her adrenalin was racing and she kept flinching and looking all around for subversive eyes watching her. Then there was Adam. Where the hell was he? What have they done to him?

“Ok, I have an idea we could…” Miguel was suddenly interrupted when a rock struck the back of his head. He fell to the floor unconscious. Miranda screamed out in panic. She cradled Miguel but he was out cold. Suddenly she looked up to see five youths with blank expressions standing there.

“She understands. All her society, her values, intelligence and money can’t save her from our instinct. Right now we could rape and kill both of you”. The shadows all muttered in unison.

Miranda had never felt a fear like the one racing through her.

“In her eyes there is something. You see what happens when the dispossessed are ignored and forgotten in society. Remember that you’re safe so long as we do not unite. In that respect you are never truly safe”. One shadow offered in a chilled disowned and monotonous voice.

“Your other friend has gone into the estate. He showed little care where he was. It was refreshing not for our families to be treated as pariah”.

With that the shadows skulked back into the darkness. The flames of the car illuminating them as they returned to the darkness. Miranda stayed where she was cradling the unconscious Miguel in her arms awaiting help.

THE END

S2E01 The METAL MEN by Gerry Fobon - Narrated Audio Complete

2011-02-11T14:40:00.000-08:00

S2E01 The METAL MEN by Gerry Fobon

Ridge is left a simple message at the dead drop, it just reads The Metal Men. In Snowdonia retired civil servant Jeffrey Palmer is brutally murdered along with his lover. Fear is sparked in Whitehall that the LCF with their new powers have resurrected a long forgotten programme about using robotics as weapons known as the metal men. But as the fragmented remains of Doomwatch investigate they discover not all is as it seems…
Download from here

DOOMWATCH IT TAKES TWO (FULL CAST SCRIPT) by Grant Foxon

2011-01-21T13:43:00.000-08:00

INT. BEDROOM. Andrea Mcpherson is in bed whilst her husband can be heard in bathroom.

ANDREA
You know it’s been a tough year darling?

JASON
What?

ANDREA
I said…never mind! How much longer are you going to be?

JASON
Nearly there. These new johnnies are a wee bit tricky.

FX. JASON opens bathroom door.

ANDREA
Doesn’t that hurt? It looks pretty tight?

JASON
No. It actually feels really good.

ANDREA
Well don’t get too happy with it will you… Well, not yet anyway.

FX. They embrace and begin to kiss.

JASON
Oww.

ANDREA
What?

JASON
Nothing I just felt a pain.

ANDREA
Where?

JASON
Down below. It’s ok now.

They continue to kiss then JASON begins to scream.

ANDREA

Jason! Jason what’s wrong!

JASON
Quick get this thing off me!

Andrea
I can’t its stuck. Jason you’ve got blood down your legs.

JASON screams in pain.

INT. ADAM QUIST’S OFFICE.DOOMWATCH. ADAM, PAUL and MIRANDA are talking.

ADAM
Good Morning Everyone, let’s get this meeting underway. I hope you have read the reports from Whitehall. Well what do you think?

PAUL
Killer johnnies boss? You’ve got to be taking the pi…

MIRANDA
Usually for intellectual reasons I disagree with Paul. But I must admit that killer johnnies do sound a little strange.

PAUL
Thanks. And just a little strange?

MIRANDA
All right a lot.

ADAM
I agree. It doesn’t sound plausible at all outside of a Cronenberg film. Never the less there have been three fatalities and that I do take very, very seriously.

PAUL
Fatalities?

ADAM
That’s right and you two have an appointment with MaxiWorld, the company responsible for these condoms. What did you get from the lab results Paul?

PAUL
Well, I don’t know about sentient killer condoms but there certainly is some organic material in their composition. Unlike normal condoms which are made from latex or polyurethane if you’re feeling glamorous. However, the organic compound which is meant to make the experience more pleasurable is meant to be akin toskin. But surely these tests in Scotland would have been a success on the whole?

ADAM
Well, I don’t know about you two but as far as I can see this
warrants a Doomwatch investigation.

FX. ADAM throws a pack of Synthalite condoms at Paul.

PAUL
What’s this boss?

ADAM
I want you to try them on and see what they feel like.

PAUL
Oh I get it we can’t have members of the public beingcastrated but good old Paul can be?

MIRANDA
I think he’s got a point. And you won’t have for very long.

PAUL laughs sarcastically.

ADAM
Right, let’s get down to it. As soon as you can get an appointment at MaxiWorld. I want a report as soon as possible as I have a minister breathing down my neck on this one.

EXT. MaxiWorld. MIRANDA pulls the car up outside the MaxiWorld building.

PAUL
Wow, it certainly looks impressive considering how relatively unknown the company are.

MIRANDA
Come on Paul, let’s get on with it. I am starving and I missed breakfast this morning.

INT. MaxiWorld. MIRANDA and PAUL head inside the building. Their feet squeak on the highly polished floor.

RECEPTIONIST
Good Morning and welcome to MaxiWorld.

MIRANDA
Hi. We’re both here to see a Mr Lartner.

RECEPTIONIST
Sure thing. I’ll let him know you are here. Please take a seat. Would you like some refreshments?

PAUL
Yeah, that would be great. Two mochas please. I don’t suppose you have you got any chocolate biscuits too?

MIRANDA
We’re fine. Thanks.

RECEPTIONIST
Sure no problem.

FX. MIRANDA and PAUL sit down on noisy leather chairs.

PAUL
No biscuits or coffee. Could you imagine how good they would have tasted. This place is simply magnificent!

MIRANDA
All substance and no feeling. You saw that receptionist, she talks like a machine and acts like one.

PAUL
She also looks like a super model. This place is…well, wow! It puts four-star hotels to shame. Better not tell the boss what the office is like here…Oh, I get it!

MIRANDA
Get it?

PAUL
It’s got nothing to do with a certain green eyed monster has it?

MIRANDA
Me. Jealous? Of her? Please.

PAUL
Oh yeah, cause that doesn’t sound like jealously does it. Miranda?

There’s a brief awkward pause.

MIRANDA
So tell me. Do you think we’re really up against killer condoms?

PAUL
I believe in the boss. And if he thinks there’s a chance there is something in it, there must be.

MIRANDA
Very diplomatic. We’ll make a sheep out of you let Paul.

Suddenly Mr Lartner appears. Incredibly friendly.

MR LARTNER
Well hello there! You must be the people from Doomwatch. Welcome! Have my staff offered you refreshments?

MIRANDA
We’re good thanks.

MR LARTNER
Good. Well if you’d like to follow me.

FX. They walk again across the polished floor and through the building. Various groups of people can be heard talking. They arrive at Mr Lartners office.

INT. MR LARTNER’S OFFICE.

MR LARTNER
Well. Please be seated.

PAUL and MIRANDA sit down (Chairs scraping).

MR LARTNER (CONT).
So, how can we be of help? Mr Quist was a little on the phone. I gather it’s to do with our Synthalite products?

PAUL
That’s right. You know we investigate certain products which may produce certain worrying side effects. Especially if these products are just about to get a global distribution deal.

MR LARTNER
From what I gather our field tests in Scotland have been quite positive.

MIRANDA
Take a look at this.

MIRANDA hands MR LARTNER a document. MR LARTNER takes a moment to noisily flick through the papers.

MR LARTNER
But according to this, the tests were a success mostly? Surely a few incidents could be over looked?

MIRANDA
With all due respect castration and death are a little more than a few incidents.

MR LARTNER
That is indeed tragic and my heart goes out to the families. So, what do you want?

PAUL
Our lab tried to analyse some of your condoms. They found some form of organic compound in the mixture. Like skin but not quite. Can you tell us what this is please?

MR LARTNER
Very good. I can see your talents are wasted. Have you thought about journalism? You are right of course, but I must confess that I’m no scientist. I cannot tell you exactly what the material is. It is very close to skin. It is designed to give maximum pleasure.

INT. ADAM QUIST’S OFFICE DOOMWATCH.

MIRANDA
I can’t explain it. I knew he was wrong but I found myself agreeing with him. Like it was subliminal. But he was definitely trying to give us the brush off as far as the compound was concerned. He’s no fool.

ADAM
I think I should give Mr Lartner a visit too.

PAUL
It’s a weird place. The staff all look perfect. The building is magnificent but somehow sinister…do you really think…

ADAM
Think about it. When a man ejaculates he produces the lifeforce if you like, of the human species. On some genetic level maybe the two are interacting.

MIRANDA
Have fun tonight won’t you Paul?

PAUL
Yeah. Thanks. Kate’s only been living with me a month. I’d hate to get castrated and she moves out.

INT. PAUL’S HOUSE. BEDROOM.

KATE
Made from real skin. And you don’t find that creepy?

PAUL
It’s not quite real skin. Look, it’s had a great trial in Scotland.

KATE
You’re sure it’s safe?

PAUL
Sure. Look here it is. I’ll put it on now and away we go. Yeah?

KATE
Go for it stud.

INT. PAUL’S BEDROOM NEXT DAY.

PAUL yawns as he awakens.

KATE
Morning lover.

PAUL
Morning. It was great last night yeah?

KATE
I don’t know if it was you or the condom but something mastered the art of multiple orgasms last night.

PAUL
Wow a success then?

KATE
Success?

PAUL
Doesn’t matter.

INT. ADAM QUISTS OFFICE. DOOMWATCH.

PAUL
It felt good, no better than good it was amazing, the best.

ADAM
Perhaps some sort of feel good hormone absorbed via osmosis into the skin?

PAUL
Whatever it was it felt good, right.

ADAM
And both you and Miranda felt a similar feeling at MaxiWorld yesterday and with Mr Lartner? I take it your partner was equally as pleased?

PAUL
Yeah. She loved it.

FX. ADAM begins to tap the desk.

ADAM
I wonder. Perhaps there is something tangible. Maybe a pheromone which MaxiWorld have somehow created that promotes a sense of well being? Such things are used on a smaller scale in certain foodstuffs and need to be digested. Something invisible that promotes these feelings. It could revolutionise everything.

PAUL
Is that so bad?

ADAM
You know, I wonder if a hundred years ago two likeminded people had a similar discussion about opium. It needs further investigation.

PAUL
Point taken boss.

ADAM
Besides, we still don’t know what that compound is?

MIRANDA knocks on the door then enters.

MIRANDA
Hi boss, hey tiger how’d it go last night?

PAUL
It was amazing. It lasted for hours, she had multiple orgasms so it was pretty much the norm really.

MIRANDA
…yeah. Sure. So what next boss?

ADAM
Well I’m convinced that MaxiWorld have created some form of feel good pheromone and you have both felt it in the company of Mr Lartner. It’s also used in their condoms. Miranda, see if the lab have made any progress with the compound.

MIRANDA
Wilko.

ADAM
I think it’s time I pay Mr Lartner a visit.

The phone rings. ADAM answers.

ADAM (CONT).
Hello. Yes….WHAT? We’ll be right there.

ADAM slams the phone down.

PAUL
What is it?

ADAM
That was the lab. Apparently one of the samples has…moved!

MIRANDA
Moved?

EXT. PAUL’S house. PARCELMAN knocks on the door. KATE opens it.

PARCELMAN
Hi there. I’ve got a package for Mr Grover. I take it your not Mr Grover!

KATE
No, I’m Kate…Do you want me?

PARCEL MAN
I’m sorry?

KATE
I said do you want me?... Come on…

FX. KATE pulls the PARCELMAN into the house and closes the door.

INT. LABORATORY. DOOMWATCH. ADAM, MIRANDA and PAUL arrive. A team of scientists are busy there working on various equipment.

MIRANDA
Is it true Doctor Clemens? Are the condoms sentient?

DOCTOR CLEMENS
Well yes and no. Sentient no, but there is a reaction to certain electrical stimuli, which can be seen as a sign of life. I will demonstrate by sending an electrical pulse.

PAUL
Oh, my god, it moved! I was wearing one of those!!

ADAM
So these people may well have been castrated by Synthalite?

DOCTOR CLEMENS
It is most certainly a possibility.

PAUL
I think I’m going to be sick.

INT. MAXIWORLD.

RECEPTIONIST
Good morning how may I help you?

ADAM
You know it’s a Tuesday don’t you? And it’s pouring down with rain? No. Personally I find that depressing.

RECEPTIONIST
Can I help you sir?

ADAM
Yes. Indeed you can. I’d like to see Mr Lartner.

RECEPTIONIST
I’m afraid he’s quite busy at the moment.

ADAM
Tell him it’s Adam Quist from Doomwatch. I’m sure he’ll find the time.

INT. PAULS HOUSE. PARCELMAN is leaving.

PARCEL MAN
Thanks Kate. I’ll come round and see you again soon

The door closes. KATE is heard dropping to the floor and begins to cry then scream .

KATE
What the hell is happening to me? Why did I do that?

INT. MAXIWORLD.

RECEPTIONIST
He’ll be down directly.

ADAM
I thought so. Thank you.

ADAM sits on settee. He picks up a magazine and flicks through it.

ADAM

(Mumbles) This place really is too good to be true.

MR LARTNER approaches.

MR LARTNER
Ahhh Mr Quist! Why this is indeed a pleasure to meet in the flesh as it were.

ADAM
The pleasure is all yours believe me.

MR LARTNER
Indeed. Well if you’d like to follow me.

INT. DOOMWATCH. PAUL is working on the computer when is phone rings. He answers.

PAUL
Hello.

KATE is on the other end crying.

KATE
Paul. We need to talk.

PAUL
Kate. Are you ok?

KATE
Paul. I don’t know how to tell you. Look I had sex with a parcel guy, I don’t know why I can’t explain I just had to.

PAUL
What!

KATE
Please Paul I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened. It was like I had no control.

PAUL
Right. I am going to the office I will speak to you later.

INT. MaxiWorld MR LARTNERS OFFICE.

MR LARTNER
Please be seated. Can I offer you some refreshment Mr Quist?

ADAM
No. Thank you. What is the organic material in Synthalite?

MR LARTNER
You don’t waste anytime do you Mr Quist? Trading secrets. Mums the word. You understand me?

ADAM
Oh yes. Oh yes I understand. In fact please permit me to answer the question for you. You have created artificial human flesh. Similar I imagine to what they are currently using in the states for burn victims. Only it’s more than that isn’t it? You people have done a lot of research into pheromones as well haven’t you? Please don’t be modest. What you people have accomplished is pure genius. But you are using it too exploit people. Like the scent of a carnivorous plant to catch an insect. You’ll use it to sell products. People buying them on false instincts because of the pheromones. What you are doing sir is turning the human race into symbiotic life forms!

MR LARTNER claps.

MR LARTNER
Bravo! Bravo! Now prove it.

ADAM
Am I right? Lie to me!

MR LARTNER
You have a good imagination Mr Quist.

ADAM
Am I right damn you!

An awkward pause ensures.

MR LARTNER
You figured out our gamble. But even that is a small part of the whole. Tell me, do you play chess Mr Quist?

ADAM
What do you mean?

MR LARTNER
I’ve said enough. Please see yourself out now I am busy.

ADAM
I will have this place shut down Mr Lartner.

MR LARTNER
Then do so. You’re a cautious man. Yet we’re still open? Explanation? Perhaps your weak relationship with your superiors in the government won’t hold if you try to close us down. You must know I too have many influential friends. Yes we have the pheromone. And it makes my will particularly suggestive to others. Please do try to close us down. We cannot be stopped now Quist. Go back to your office and wait till we accept you.

ADAM leaves slamming the door behind him.

INT. DOOMWATCH. ADAM’S OFFICE. ADAM storms in opens his desk and begins to drink. There’s a knock at the door. ADAM hides the booze.

ADAM
Come in!

PAUL enters distraught.

ADAM (CONT.)
Jesus. Are you ok?

PAUL
It’s Kate she slept with a bloody parcel man.

ADAM
Ok. You want a drink.

PAUL
Why did she do it?

ADAM
Control. Pleasure. I wonder…

PAUL
We need to bring her in for tests.

ADAM
I think she may be the antibody for the charm offensive of MaxiWorld.

PAUL
What do you mean?

ADAM
I don’t think Kate’s to blame.

PAUL
What do you mean!

ADAM
I can’t say for certain but there must have been some residue of the synthalite left in her.

PAUL
Those MaxiWorld bastards!

ADAM
Anger. Get a hold on to it. I think Lartner has over reached himself. We can fight back and we shall. Get Kate in immediately we need to run tests on her.

PAUL
I’ll call her right away.

INT. DOOMWATCH. MIRANDA has kettle boiling as ADAM approaches.

MIRANDA
How’s Paul?

ADAM
He’s been better. Poor kid. He’s picking Kate up.

MIRANDA
You reckon the johnnies really did turned her into a raging nymphomaniac?

ADAM
It’s possible. If she did have as many orgasms as Paul eluded to then her own hormones would have been racing. Who knows just what damage could have been done?

MIRANDA
What about the parcel man?

ADAM
I think he should be safe. Whatever it is I imagine it’s still just affecting Kate.

MIRANDA
But there’s still a chance?

ADAM
You’re right. We’ll have to find him and check him out. There must be some kind of test we can do that will register the presence of synthalite in the body.

MIRANDA
Right.

ADAM
These people have got to be stopped.

INT. MaxiWorld. MR LARTNERS OFFICE. MR LARTNER is chair of a meeting of executives. There are about 10 people in the room.

MR LARTNER
Greetings. Gentlemen. Quiet now. We have much to discuss. Our products have done very well. It seems all the consumers who tried it are almost addicted. Gross and profit when the product goes global will be in the billions. We’re even negotiating with a couple of plastic pop stars to be in the ad campaign. Now there’s irony.

INVESTOR
What about those Doomwatch people who were here?

MR LARTNER
Ahh I see somebody has been talking. Oh dear, how terribly disappointing.

INVESTOR
Is it true though?

MR LARTNER
Yes. I think we’ve established that.

INVESTOR
They were investigating the product. Why?

MR LARTNER
There were a few a very few, incidents.

INVESTOR
Involving?

MR LARTNER
Castration.

INVESTOR
Did you just say?

MR LARTNER
Look believe me it is nothing. Believe me!

The INVESTORS all repeat “we agree” in unison like zombies almost.

MR LARTNER (CONT).
Good. You know you are my kind of people.

INT. DOOMWATCH LAB. KATE is lying on a bed whilst blood samples are being taken.

DOCTOR CLEMENS
Don’t worry my dear. We just need a few samples of blood.

KATE
Sure.

DOCTOR CLEMENS
Brace yourself for a little prick.

Pause as blood is taken.

DOCTOR CLEMENS
There we are. Thank you Kate.

ADAM watches on drinking coffee as MIRANDA approaches.

ADAM
Do we know where the parcel man is?

MIRANDA
Kate can’t remember the company. Her mind was all focused on his genitalia.

ADAM
Great.

MIRANDA
How is she?

ADAM
Doctor Clemens is doing tests now. But we’ve seen no more evidence of her lust.

DOCTOR CLEMENS
She has had limited exposure. It’s akin to a chemical addiction. I imagine prolonged exposure means addiction. Like heroin. It changes various chemicals in the brain. Serotonin being one of them.

MIRANDA
Then how come she became a raging nymph?

DOCTOR CLEMENS
Psychological. That’s how she felt the pleasure. Trying to recreate it perhaps.

ADAM
Is there anything we can use to combat the pheromone?

DOCTOR CLEMENS
No. I don’t think so.

ADAM
Plan B then.

MIRANDA
Plan B?

ADAM
Yes. Plan B. Anger. It seems to work.

INT. MAXIWORLD. MR LARTNERS OFFICE. MR LARTNER is at his desk when there is a knock at the door.

MR LARTNER
Enter!

FX. ADAM enters and sits down.

MR LARTNER
Well, well Mr Quist! I hoped not to see you so soon!

ADAM
A mutual feeling.

MR LARTNER
I’m sure. So Quist what brings you here?

ADAM
Not pleasure I can assure you. Anger.

MR LARTNER
Anger?

ADAM
That’s right. Anger. You see we found something natural that combats your artificial pheromones.

MR LARTNER
Indeed?

ADAM
Yes. You should receive a phone call soon. Your product rejected. When the standards agency learned of the effects of synthalite. They felt angry. And your pheromone control died.

The phone rings.

ADAM (CONT.)
Go on. Answer it.

MR LARTNER answers it.

MR LARTNER
Hello. But.I see.

MR LARTNER throws the phone down.

ADAM
Careful you might lose control over yourself.

MR LARTNER
Oh very good Quist. Very good! Bravo! Encore!

ADAM
What you were planning was consumer slavery.

MR LARTNER
It happens everywhere in western society.

ADAM
No. Not like this.

MR LARTNER
Go!

ADAM
Before you said I wasn’t close to what was really going on. What did you mean?

MR LARTNER
Symbiosis.

FX. MR LARTNER opens a draw and pulls out a pen knife he then stabs it through his hand. There is no blood his hand is solid through.

MR LARTNER (CONT).
The product has made me feel immortal. This knife that sticks through my hand causes me no pain and there is no blood.

ADAM
Immortal? You’re inhuman!

MR LARTNER
Perhaps, but I will have power. You may have closed us down here but we will reappear somewhere else. You can’t stop us.

FX. ADAM stands and walks towards the door.

MR LARTNER
You know I’m right Quist!

FX. ADAM slams the door shut.

THE END

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

ADAM QUIST
MIRANDA
PAUL
MR LARTNER
KATE
DOCTOR CLEMENS
PARCEL MAN
INVESTOR
RECEPTIONIST
JASON
ANDREA

THE L.C.F - DECLARATION by GRANT FOXON

2011-01-21T12:37:00.000-08:00

FADE IN. EARLY MORNING. EXT. WOODLAND.

Cars drive up and down a nearby road as a hooded figure watches them through binoculars. Eventually the figure turns and walks back through the woods. A tent is awkwardly assembled in the woods as a girl in her late teens prepares a cup of tea.

KAREN
Tea?

The hooded figure looks down at her then nods and removes his mask.

SIMON
Sounds good. Have you heard from the others?

KAREN
Nothing. It’s a big recon job though?

SIMON
Sure it is.

Simon sits next to Karen as she pours him a cup of tea. Simon picks up a nearby book that is lying on the ground.

SIMON
Kafka’s “The Trial”. What do you think?

KAREN
It’s a metaphor.

SIMON
Well it is Franz Kafka. Not a very original observation.

Karen takes a sip of her tea.

KAREN
Ok. It seems to be linked with what we’re doing. Those conducting the trial are normal people.

SIMON
And we’re OK?

There’s a rustling in the bushes. Simon jumps up and grabs a knife. Two more hooded figures emerge from the bushes TOMMY and SHAUN.

SIMON
Jesus, you were meant to report in half an hour ago?

TOMMY (Removing hood)
Sorry. We’ve checked the place out. The security is pretty major.

SIMON
So is your pessimism. Where there’s a will there’s a way right?

Tommy looks at Shaun.

TOMMY
Simon, look I don’t think we can do this. It’s a big deal.

SIMON
Big deal? Big deal! What we’re fighting for is a big deal! We’re going to break into that power station and blow the thing up and nothing and no one will stop us.

Simon raises the knife tall and proud.

SIMON (CONT.)
And if any of you think of backing out. I will slit your throats.

The team look at each other nervously. Simon sits back down and continues to drink his tea.

KAREN
Would anyone else like a cup?

TOMMY
No thanks

KAREN
Shaun?

Shaun shakes his head.

SIMON
Come on, what’s wrong with you people? The British Empire was built on tea. And colonialism.

TOMMY
What happens if we’re caught?

Simon smiles.

SIMON
If I were you I’d be far more worried about me, if I were you.

SHAUN
I’m just going for a riddle.

SIMON
Go on then.

Shaun walks off.

SIMON
Bless him.

Shaun finds a quiet area and unzips his flies. He then pulls out his phone. He hears a twig snap and shoves it back in his pocket. Nervously he urinates. Around the campsite the group look worried. Except Simon who takes a deep breath and smiles.

SIMON
I love nature. Always have. It’s the concrete and the suits, I abhor. So unnatural. It’s like killing and racism. These are human nature. To fight is unnatural. Society constantly makes us so.

KAREN
Are you racist?

Simon laughs.

SIMON
You misunderstand me. I’m not racist. No, merely it’s embedded in us to protect our tribe from others. Humans have always done it and always will. Look at the holocaust, Rwanda, Scotland the massacre of the Macdonalds it’s our nature. We didn’t get to the top of the food chain through just having the biggest brains you know.

Shaun returns.

TOMMY
So what do you think? Is there hope for humanity?

SIMON
In the long term no. Man created man. And he shall destroy man. I have little faith in humanity. Maybe that’s my real motivation for joining the L.C.F? Less my love of Earth and more my hatred for human beings.

TOMMY
So why join up? Why not just become a killer?

Simon takes a drink of his tea.

SIMON
How do you know I’m not?

TOMMY
I reckon this is all bollocks. You’re no tough man. I reckon this is all an act.

Simon takes another drink.

SIMON
There’s one way to find out isn’t there?

KAREN
Come on boys. Settle down yeah. We need to stay focused.

SHAUN
Karen’s right.

Simon and Tommy look at each other.

TOMMY
OK.

(CUT . EXT. WOODS. CAMP. LATER IN THE DAY.)

Karen is reading Kafka’s Trial. Shaun sits opposite shaking with cold.

EXT. WOODS.

Tommy is alone. He pulls his phone out and dials a number.

TOMMY
It’s me. It’s all going to plan. Their planning the raid tonight. I’ve got the recording. Tell D.I. Beach now if you want. We’ve got what we need here.

Unbeknown to Tommy, Simon is listening in nearby.

TOMMY
I’ll ring in an hour. No, I don’t think they’ll be a problem getting away. These L.C.F are cowards. They’re no serious organisation. Eco terrorism’s a joke. Beware the LCF. That tape we received is a joke. I gotta go.

Simon walks back to camp.

EXT. WOODS. CAMP.

KAREN
You should read this Shaun.

SHAUN
I’m not much of a reader.

KAREN
Well I think they filmed it to.

Tommy walks back to camp.

TOMMY
Where’s Simon?

Suddenly Simon whacks Tommy in the side of his head with a rock. Tommy crashes to the floor.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN.

Tommy comes round but he’s tied to a tree.

SIMON
You know at first, I thought you we’re a pig.

Simon is kneeling down beside Tommy whilst Shaun and Karen watch.

TOMMY
Untie me.

SIMON
You’re not though are you? What are you?

TOMMY
Don’t you know?

SIMON
WHAT ARE YOU?

Tommy taken aback looks up.

TOMMY
I’m a journalist. The Gazette.

SIMON
You’re worse than a pig then? I mean on the scum scale?

TOMMY
If you say so.

SIMON
Yes. Yes I do say so. Why are you here?

TOMMY
We’re running a feature on you. The tape you lot sent interested us. Eco Terrorism is trendy at the mo.

SIMON
Trendy? Trendy?

Simon stands up theatrically waving his hands.

SIMON (CONT.)
You don’t take us seriously. Because we’re fighting for a planet as opposed to a God.

TOMMY
Come on Simon this is all bollocks. Eco Terrorism attracts nothing but students. The L.C.F is no different.

Simon gets right in Tommy’s face.

SIMON
Oh no Tommy. No, no, no. We the L.C.F are very different. The question now is. What do we do with you?

TOMMY
Come on. This play act is over.

Simon nods to Shaun. Shaun empties Tommy’s rucksack onto the ground. All his audiovisual equipment has been smashed up.

SIMON
There goes your scoop.

TOMMY
Oh very good. Now untie me.

SIMON
I don’t think he’s been listening has he. Karen?

Karen approaches with the knife. Tommy looks at her confused.

SIMON
She didn’t need much persuading this one.

TOMMY
You’re mad.

SIMON
Gloves.

Karen turns and puts on a pair of rubber gloves. She then raises the knife and walks towards Tommy slowly. He cries out. At the moment of stabbing Tommy cries out. Karen pulls her arm back and laughs.

SIMON
Now who’s scared? You’ll have your scoop Tommy. But on our terms. Watch him.

Simon walks off. Tommy looks up desperately at Karen and Shaun.

TOMMY
Please, you’ve got to help me, he’s nuts.

SHAUN
You know we can’t.

TOMMY
Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ll be in?

Karen slaps Tommy hard in the face.

KAREN
Shut up! Traitor!

Karen spits on Tommy.

EXT. WOODS Simon alone is on phone.

SIMON
Yeah. Yeah I understand boss.

Simon puts the phone back in his pocket and smiles broadly as he walks back towards the others. He then rejoins the others.

SIMON
There’s a change of plan.

KAREN
Change?

SIMON
Yeah. Change. We’re not hitting the plant.

SHAUN
We’re not?

TOMMY
Told you, now cut me loose!

SIMON
Oh no. We’ve got a far more important assignment. We’re gonna send a message. And you’re gonna be famous.

TOMMY
What are you going to do?

EXT. Woods night.
The forest is black but there is a fire. Nearby packed up Simon, Shaun and Karen watch.

KAREN
I thought he’d scream longer.

SIMON
You’re morbid.

INT. PRESS OFFICE. Following day.

A member of the press sits down to their desk and opens an A4 Envelope sitting on the desk. Inside the photograph is of Tommy’s mutilated body. Written is blood is

BEWARE THE L.C.F

POPULARITY

2010-12-31T17:22:00.000-08:00

Well, you will be surprised to hear that the DOOMWATCH Fan Fiction site receives the most traffic from Denmark! This is followed by the UK and then the U.S. A big thanks to our Danish readers! Happy New year :)

S2E12 - NESTING by GRANT WEBB & GRANT FOXON

2010-12-31T07:55:00.000-08:00

“Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is”
Jean Paul Sartre.

The rain was a force to be reckoned with as it came down hard in the dark gloomy night. A lone police car crept slowly up the long drive to the equally gloomy house. Sergeant Davis turned to the young officer Pedler.
“Happy abode isn’t it?” Davis offered flippantly.
“It took long enough to find sir”. Pedler replied.
That was true, the house was tucked away almost like the opening of a disused rabbit warren poking out unsuggestively of the ground.
“Well let’s see what we can learn”.
The two officers approached the front door and rung the doorbell. The door flung open. The woman inside had obviously been drinking. She eyed the two policemen with both humour and contempt.
“Ms Ryder?” Davis asked.
“Yes. You are? No don’t tell me, policemen?”
There was a definite sourness in the woman’s voice.
“Your friend you reported missing…”
“Did I?”
“Two days ago”.
“Oh yes. What about him?”
“We’d like you to come to the station we have found a body”.
For a moment it seemed the officers words and penetrated her cold façade.
“You know we were to be married him and I”.
There was a rich elegance to her words, which denoted a good upbringing Pedler mused.
“Please Ms if you wouldn’t mind”. Davis indicated to his car as he spoke.
“Let me get my coat”. Charlotte Ryder smiled as she spoke.
The two men looked at each other.
“I don’t envy forensics in this weather”. Pedler offered.
“I don’t envy them at all. You haven’t seen the body have you. Well what’s left of it that is”.
Charlotte Ryder reappeared at the door.
“Gentlemen, show me to my carriage”.
The drive back to the station was just as dark and cold as the journey to Charlotte’s house.

3 Days Earlier

The night was calm. Almost serene. Timothy Wright knew this was the calm before the storm. That metaphor could be used to describe his current relationship. When he had met Charlotte there was genuine love. And every time he slept with someone else he experienced genuine agony. But she could be a nightmare. Her drinking was getting too much and with it was her nasty mouth and violent reactions.
Timothy had met someone else and knew he had to tell Charlotte that their relationship was about to end.
She reacted with her typical fashion and went crazy. He tried to reason with her but there was no chance. She screamed, shouted and when she seemed to be running low on energy she hit the bottle.
Timothy decided to leave. He had no other choice. As he went to get into his car she dropped to her knees and begged him to stay. She cried and pleaded he pushed her away called her sick and told her she needed professional help.

Present.

In the mortuary the remains of what was Timothy sat cold and lifeless on a slab. Davis had warned Charlotte that the remains were not pretty. But she defiantly said it would not bother her.
Together Davis and Charlotte approached the remains. Davis respectfully pulled the sheet back. Charlotte looked down at the remains. For a moment time stopped then she turned and threw up.
“It’s him. It’s him!” She screamed.
Pedler gently put the sheet back over the remains.
“I’m sorry”. Davis offered gently.
Charlotte ran out of the mortuary.
Adam sat behind his desk looking in horror at the photos in front of him. There was a knock on the door. Miranda entered.
“Miranda, only ten minutes late”. Adam said playfully.
“Well you know new years resolution and all that”.
Adam tossed the photographs towards her.
“What are these?” She asked.
“Take a look”. Adam replied.
Miranda flicked through the photographs. Art first she was unsure what they were. Then she realised.
“Dear God. Who or what did it?”
“What it would seem. Those marks are teeth marks. The country has been hit by the worst storms in living memory and no animal tracks. It seems we have a mystery to solve my dear”.
Miranda looked at Adam.
“My dear?” She said perplexed.
“Yeah well, I’m trying it out. You know a bit Sherlock Holmes like”.
“Yeah well I’d drop my dear, might be considered sexist”. Miranda replied.
Adam nodded solemnly.
“So we’re to assist local police forces in Somerset as top the killer. And it gets us away from the tiresome paperwork”.

The morning was misty and the cold was biting away at the bones of all that were there.
Adam pulled up in his land rover with Miranda. They jumped out and approached a break in the woodland where there was a police cordon. Pedler approached.
“It’s alright we’re Doomwatch”. Adam said.
“Who?” Pedler asked.
“Doomwatch. You know, we do environmental stuff”. Adam said seriously.
“Stuff?” Pedler repeated unconvinced.
“It’s alright, let them through”. Davis called.
Pedler signalled for Adam and Miranda to enter.
“Stuff?” Miranda said to Adam.
“Well I couldn’t think what else to say”. Adam rebuked.
“So you’re here to tell us what happened”.
Miranda’s eyes were drawn to a marking on the floor where the body was found. There was still the odd trace of viscera in the undergrowth.
“Did you people see the snaps we took?” Davis said revelling in Miranda’s discomfort.
“Yeah we did”. Adam answered for her.
“Well it was powerful, the late Timothy was strong”.
“It seemed to be able to sneak up on him too?” Adam asked.
“Yeah from somewhere. The toxicology report on the corpse indicated that he had been drinking”. Davis said.
“Then what the hell was he doing in a forest?” Miranda asked.
“That’s our business. We do know he had just left his wife. But we don’t think he met his mistress who he was planning to run away with”.
“You're sure?” Adam asked.
“Yes. She has witnesses and it seemed that our late friend came here for some illicit sex. We found traces of semen and vaginal fluids. However, the fluids certainly were not his mistress, and we were able to cross reference them with his wife’s DNA that we have on file for a drunken fight some years ago. Therefore we find the woman, we get her story”.
Adam looked around.
“You're sure she’s not here somewhere?” Adam asked.
“We’re searching. Of course if we knew what the hell did it then we’d have a better clue what was going on”.
It was then that Adam spied the familiar image of Ridge approaching.
“Ahh, there you are”. Ridge said.
“Who the hell are you?” Asked Davis.
“I’m Doctor John Ridge I don’t have a business card I’m afraid”.
“Ridge, once again you have best entrance”.
Pedler approached.
“Shall I get him out of here sir?”
“Oh charming, considering I have identified your creature”.
“How the hell did you know that?” Davis demanded infuriated.
“Oh, I build crystal set radios and listen in on police frequencies. Look, do you want the answer?” Ridge said.
“Please Ridge enlighten us?”
Ridge smiled and using his umbrella point up towards a tree.
“The answer dear boy is up there”.
Adam turned to Miranda.
“How come he can get away with dear boy?”
Miranda nudged Adam’s arm to tell him to shut up.
“And what is in the tree?” Asked Davis unconvinced.
“Bat guano!” announced Ridge theatrically.
Davis looked at Pedler.
“Get someone up these trees, see what you can find”.
“Sir”. Pedler said as he set about making arrangements.
“You’d better be right”. Davis said pointing at Ridge.
“Are you aware in some cultures bats are even a symbol of good luck. You might get a promotion”. Said Ridge with a hint of cynicism.
Suddenly a young police officer came running over.
“Sir! Sir!” the officer was screaming.
“What the hell is it?” Davis said.
“Sir we’ve found something”.
The young officer led Adam, Miranda Davis and a reluctant Ridge a quarter of a mile away. There lying on the ground were the remains of an enormous bat.
“No f’ing way”. Said Miranda.
“I hate to say I told you so”. Said Ridge smugly.
The creature looked terrifying.
“Bats aren’t meant to be like this are they?” Said Davis.
Adam squatted down and got close to the creature.
“No, this is grotesquely out of proportion”. Said Adam.
“It’s an abomination”. Miranda commented.
“Do you know there are over 1,100 known species of bats? The larger species are the ones who tend to be vegetarian where as the smaller ones feed on insects. This is a interesting and from a scientific perspective fascinating discovery”.
“Tell that to the poor guy in the morgue with his face chewed off”. Said Davis with disgust.
“I take it they were having sex on the ground the bat must have looked down and then saw them still and attacked. If they were standing and moving it may not have attacked”. Adam theorised.
“An excellent deduction”. Said Ridge.
“We’ll take the bat with us”. Said Adam to Davis.
“Now wait a moment, we’re conducting a murder investigation!”
“And we’re…doing environmental stuff”. Said Adam.
“Until I get clearance from above the bat stays with us”. Said Davis defiantly.
“Just remember to be careful that carcass could be full of diseases”.
Adam said as he skulked off followed by Miranda and Ridge.
“Stuff?” Said Miranda.
“Yes, yes”. Said Adam.
Adam turned to Ridge.
“What the hell is really going on here Ridge?” Adam said.
“Ahh, well those growth abnormalities didn’t happen overnight”.
“So the species has been actively changing?” Miranda speculated.
“Bats eat fruit and some eat insects. In the last forty years these forests have been declining. So the species has been evolving to compensate. It needed to hunt other things. Birds, squirrels the such like. Now a normal bat can’t do that so…”
“So they’ve gotten larger”. Miranda said chilled by the thoughts of the giant bats.
“Probably been growing larger for about five generations”.
“If you check the archives you’ll discover a similar instance where we dealt with rats”.
“Yes, I recall my father mentioning it”.
Ridge looked solemn as the painful memories of the woman he loved and lost reappeared.
“Anyway we digress. Come on lets leave them to their investigation”.

The church congregation was as depleted as ever. Father Ryan a middle aged Priest with a strong Dublin accent addressed is few disciples in his strict oppressive tone.
“Do you remember the last time you said something you shouldn’t? Yes. Perhaps we’re doing something wrong. Maybe, we are taking things for granted. How often it that we waste water, throw away food or ignore people in the street? This world we live in is blessed and we cannot risk taking advantage of it. I admit, science and I may not see eye to eye, but even I can see the world is spinning out of control. But on a less controversial note, the church shall be holding donations for the repair of the roof, which as you can see above you, will be leaking water very soon. As we all know, that if we work together, we can make the world a better place”.
With that Father Ryan stood back and looked for guilt in the faces of his audience.

Back at Doomwatch Adam sat cradling his coffee. Eve entered holding a piece of paper she handed it to Adam.
“It’s the forensic report on the bat”.
Adam scanned the paper.
“Dear God, that animal was a walking germ factory. Full of toxins”.
“Where did it come from?”
“Your guess is as good as me. Certain animals live in filth maybe there’s some deserted building… perhaps a waste ground? Did the police say anything else?”
“No afraid not”. Said Eve.
Adam took a swig of his coffee.
“Back to square one”.

Father Ryan sat back in the kitchen in his church. He longed for the days when whole towns lived in fear of the local priest. When there was goodness in the world. And now deviation of any sort from the holy bible. Alas the whole world has been consumed by evils. He thought to himself.
It was then that he heard a noise coming from above. In the bell tower.
“Bloody birds”. Father Ryan said then realising his swearing turned to a picture of Jesus Christ on the wall and apologised before heading up the tower to deal with the animal.

Ridge breezily entered Doomwatch.
“Comrades! How’s it going”. Ridge announced.
“If your referring to my own physical well-being then I’m afraid I have this rather sexist pain in the arse which keeps reoccurring”. Miranda said.
Eve grinned. Ridge turned to Miranda.
“And may I say what a fine arse you have to”.
“Still no real developments, although the police report on the dead bat makes for good reading”.
Adam handed Ridge the document.
“A veritable germ factory you have here young Quist”.
“So what now?” Miranda asked.
“The only idea we can to trace these bats is to wait for another instances at cross-reference it on the grid”.
“Great”. Said Eve sarcastically.
Ridge pondered.
“Somerset is quite renown for its caves. Might be a logical place to start?” Ridge said.

Father Ryan entered the bell tower. He felt a strange sense of fear then saw what he thought may very well be Lucifer himself.
The bat flew directly at Father Ryan. Father Ryan fought back in vain. The Bat biting at his flesh. Then all of a sudden Father Ryan fell to his death. The bat swooped down after him, and made a meal of his lifeless corpse.

Pedler stood over the corpse of Father Ryan. Davis entered his body language would suggest he was flustered.
“Another one sir”.
Davis looked at the hideous remains of the face.
“Bats”. Davis announced.
Davis and Pedler both looked up at the foreboding blackness of the tower.
“Pedler”.
“Yes sir”.
“Have we definitely ascertained that the bat in question isn’t still up there?” Davis asked cautiously.
“No sir”.
“Get two officers suited up with visors and send them up there”.
“Right away sir”.
Davis carefully stepped back still focusing on the inky blackness.

Adam and Eve arrived at the church together. Once again it was cordoned off Pedler waved them through.
“Ah Mr Davis can we have our bat back?” Adam asked seriously.
“Sure. I hope you have a good sterile facility to house it in”. Davis replied sardonically.
“I’m forgetting my manners this is Eve. Our secretary. She does office…”
“Stuff?” Davis finished.
“Precisely. And she’s very good”.
A elderly woman approached.
“He always talked of this happening”. The woman said.
“I’m sorry?” Said Adam.
“Father Ryan he knew the end was coming. 2012 in the Mayan calendar. But he said it would be sooner. And that’s what happened wasn’t it. He was killed… by a demon!”
The old woman used the pause for dramatic effect. Davis heard this and approached.
“You saw the creature?” Davis demanded.
“I might. But you Mr Policeman should be more worried if it has seen you or not”.
Adam grinned he was enjoying the old ladies performance.
“You say your name is Adam and she is Eve”.
“Yes. My my you have very good hearing”. Adam said bating her.
“I do. Well, well there was an Adam and Eve and the start of the world, it seems only fitting there’s one at the end too”.
“Did you see where the creature went?” Davis said careful not to announce it was a bat.
“By creature I take it you mean large bat?” The old woman said.
Davis and Pedler exchanged excited glances.
“Yes. They have never bothered me and anyone I know”.
“They’ve been like it for a while then?” Asked Eve.
“Oh yes. They’re good animals. Usually. But with the end approaching I imagine they have been replaced by hellspawn”.
Adam rubbed is brow in moderate frustration.
“Where do they live?”
“Why in a nest of course”. Replied the old woman being deliberately difficult.
“And where is this nest?” Demanded Davis.
“If you must now it’s at the hills down caves”.
Davis ran to the car followed by Pedler.
“Bloody pigs”. The old lady mumbled as she walked off.
“Did that just happen?” Adam asked Eve who nodded.

Inside Doomwatch Ridge was reading his broadsheet.
“New species of bat discovered. Well what happens now?” Ridge asked Adam.
“The police wanted to shoot them all. But there’s a protection order on them and further study. It’s also got local tourism very excited”. Adam replied.
Ridge smiled.
“Excellent. Now onto other matters do you think Miranda will let me take her out for a meal?” Ridge asked.
“Yes. But desert I imagine is definitely off the menu”.
“Oh. Nevermind”.

THE END

S2E11 - EIN MONSTRUM VON MENSCHILICHEM MECHANISMUS by GERRY FOBON

2010-12-28T10:03:00.000-08:00

“Crisis, what crisis?”
James Callaghan

BEJING.

The Yin Xiao family were a middle class family who lived in Beijing. At this precise moment they were all sat around their television transfixed by the images they were seeing of England.
Students were rioting and famous landmarks like the statue to Winston Churchill were being vandalised. Even the Prince of Wales and his wife were being attacked. It was then the voiceover spoke seriously.
“All over the UK and threatened underclass are revolting away from their enforced shackles. The government is threatening education and allowing only the very rich to prosper. The youth have demonstrated peacefully but were threatened by the bourgeoisie royalty and the brutal police forces”.
The Yin Xiao family looked at each other.
“Do you think this will mean the end of their monarchy?”
“Or perhaps real socialism in the UK?”

Timmons arrived at the mortuary. He was too late. The mortuary attends stood in a semi-circle around the body of Ahmed.
Timmons knelt down and felt for a pulse and was shocked by how cold Ahmed’s body had become.
“Well?” Timmons asked.
Adam saw in his office with Timmons.
“Please don’t say I told you so”. Timmons uttered.
“It wasn’t Ahmed?”
“Somehow he had escaped and swapped with a dupe. But no normal dupe it seemed to be some form of updated Metal Man”.
Adam leant back.
“So the intel proved to work but regarding Ahmed and Carly the two most important catches were in the same boat”. Said Adam.
Timmons nodded glumly.
“But the Metal Man project was abandoned surely?” Adam asked.
“Well we’re really beginning to wonder just what resources Ahmed has to draw on. And how much of it is known by the L.C.F”.
Adam leaned back in his chair.
“Damn it. One step forward…”
“I don’t think Ahmed after talking with him has particular close links ideologically speaking with the L.C.F. In fact I’d say he was resentful about Carly’s “forced upgrading” of himself. However he knows that with his new mental abilities he is a technologicalcul-de-sac. And too dangerous to be allowed his current existence. His life is in danger through fear of rival governments capturing him and exploiting him”.
“So where is he?” Adam asked.
“More important is what is his mental state like?” Timmons suggested.

Thoughts were more logical now. The mind more organised in its storage of data. This was Ahmed’s thought of his new mental processes. Otherwise it was still similar to before. He also was able to pull information up regarding predictability of human reaction. But he was becoming increasingly troubled. As his mental processes seemed to appreciate his new knowledge and abilities to store huge quantities his mind was not coping. He was gradually losing his sanity. His sanity was slipping its moorings and going to destinations unknown.

The Metal Men project. A long abandoned project commissioned on the belief that technology not yet invented would soon be available and budgeted out of cold war paranoia. The idea was a simple one. A new type of soldier. An artificial soldier. Even today this research is given huge amounts of money on the US defence budget. So much that the cost is known to a select few. But the original Metal Men were scraped. Somehow Ahmed had been able to use the remnants of the project. Perhaps the technology they were waiting for was the technology that was now sitting in his mind that was only human in an organic sense.

Adam sat slumped in his office idly flicking through various recent scientific censor group opinions. Eve knocked on the door.
“Hello”. Adam called.
Eve opened the door.
“A Ms Bates is on the phone”.
“Ms Bates?”
“From Brussels”.
“Oh yeah. Tell her I’m away at the moment ask her for her number I think I binned it”.
Eve smiled as ever impressed by the blatant rebel Adam represented. As Eve closed the door Adam sat back in the chair. He began to tap a beat on his desk.
There was another knock on the door. Eve entered.
“I told you were busy but she sounded a bit…”
“Over domineering and positively militant?” Adam offered.
“Exactly”. Eve replied.
“Yes, well I suppose I’ll have to attend the meeting soon. I just wish we could wrap this L.C.F business up soon”. Adam said honestly.
“Without the red tape”.
“Yes. You know they say the two things you can’t escape from are death and taxes. Red tape should definitely be added to that list”.
Eve smiled and Adam smiled back at her.

Ahmed was beginning to feel trapped in his own mind. What once flowed harmoniously like a river of constant knowledge now cruelly smashed against him like an unstoppable torrent. He knew that his mind was being burned out by the information. Prove that there should indeed be a limit to man’s knowledge.
He knew things too much things. But now it was overwhelming him. He also was aware that the increased brain activity was destroying not only his sanity but irrepressible physical damage to his brain. It was too late to ask for help. He realised there was only one-way out. Suicide.

Timmons reported to the minister, he was expecting a severe reprimand for Ahmed somehow escaping. But there was no punishment. The minister was calm even impassive. This made Timmons wonder whether or not that Ahmed’s escape was planned to a degree by those higher up the command ladder.
“Sir, if I may be frank you don’t seem very…perturbed by this development”. Timmons phrased it as tactfully as he could.
“Oh I’m Timmons. I’m very perturbed. However there are procedures to follow. These cannot just be abandoned”.
“Even so sir I sense there is some data I am not privy too”.
“Be careful Timmons, you know what curiosity did to the cat”.

Ahmed retreated to his flat where he now lived. He lived frugally with little need for items. His vast mind provided all the entertainment he needed. He now theorised that the failure outside of a few skirmish to incite a racial war was proof enough that the L.C.F had failed in their objectives. Carly was now on the run like a hunted animal and the L.C.F operatives were being dealt with. A handful of separated fanatics without guidance would soon disappear.
Ahmed was pleased that they had failed. He now sat back with a cup of tea planning how best to terminate his own existence.

Adam sat re-reading various legislative documents so dull that the information within was not being absorbed.
A big meeting was coming up in Paris to discuss various environmental matters. But the problem was that even if all of the UK and France did seek to be green their efforts were utterly pointless whilst China, Russia and the USA didn’t bother. And in some parts even openly attacked green issues as false.
The whole world could really make a difference but the politics and the falseness ate away and any utopian dream. Of course it was mankind’s nature to argue and fallout.
Adam thought about banging his head on the table and hoping he either passed out (and unable to ring back at Brussels, or perhaps the futility of the act might just inspire truth and beauty amongst the other peoples).
But this was a futile gesture. Much like the conference in that respect. A unilateral agreement would never be reached and any compromise would be ignored or defecated whenever it suited the politics of that particular country.

Ahmed stared down at the needle. The fact it was previously used did not seem particularly relevant as he intended to kill himself anyway.
Ahmed decided he was being morbid and proceeded to roll up his sleeve. It took a few moments for him to locate the right vein for the task. Then he wrapped his expensive leather belt tightly around his arm to make that particular vein more prominent. He then filled the needle with air and injected it straight into his arm.

Inside his arm the bubble of air began to race around his body towards his heart. The sensation was pain. Ahmed was shocked by just how much pain was now raging in his chest. It knocked him to the ground. Ahmed began to fray on the ground like a fish out of water and then the last thought entered his mind.

I think I’m becoming a God.

With that Ahmed was no more….

THE END

S2E10 - DIES IRAE by GRANT FOXON

2010-12-28T07:19:00.000-08:00

“Democracy is beautiful in theory, in practice it is a fallacy”
Mussolini

The car spun as fast around the corner as was safe. It was imperative it reached its destination as soon as possible.

When the car arrived several members of British Intelligence disembarked. And went inside the tall manor house which doubled as a holding cell for political prisoners.

The Minister approached the cell where the man who had once been Ahmed Patel a seemingly normal person sucked into the machinations of the L.C.F. They had used a technology of preserving human life and knowledge and perverted it into a monstrosity. For now Ahmed had a prolonged existence and enhanced knowledge purely as a tool to aid their plans. But he had apparently came here of his volition.

“So Ahmed what are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to prevent a major catastrophe. Carly the head of the L.C.F knows her support is dwindling. Her recruitment drives are failing. Her younger L.C.F members are fighting their own wars regarding student cuts. But ladies and gentlemen a trapped tiger is more dangerous and she has one final plan, a powder keg as it were waiting to be lit”.
“Please explain Mr Patel?” Asked The Minister.

There was a brief pause.
“She plans to ignite a civil war between the Islamic and Christian communities”.

The room fell silent for a moment.

“You can’t be serious?” Asked one operative.
“The racial tension is already there. Recently she was involved in an arson attack on a Mosque in Birmingham and one in Leeds. She is selling weapons to both the extreme right and extreme Muslim groups. Both are being forced down one route. A Jihad for the Islamic faith and a crusade for the Christians. It will happen”.
“And presumably you don’t want it too?”
“The L.C.F must be stopped. You recently reformed Doomwatch I’d use their forces the mind of Adam Quist is more than a match for Carly Whyte”.

The Minister and his advisors assembled in a large oak boardroom.

“Damn it is he right!” The Minister barked.
“It’s true racial hate crimes have had a sharp increase. Anti-Semitism is also growing. If it is the L.C.F’s plan to start a racial war then all the ingredients are there”.

There was a tap on the door as Timmons entered.

“Where the bloody hell have you been!” The Minister barked savagely.
“Sorry I was delayed. Have I missed much”? Timmons replied.
“It seems that we’re on the verge of a civil war”.
“So what do we do now?”
“He’s come here to offer something and presumably for a price. He knows he’s wanted. My guess is he’s got intel to sell in return for his freedom. Let’s get what we can from him. If he’s serious then with the intel we might be able to close down all L.C.F operations and bag Carly Whyte and the other heads”.
“And what about his freedom?” Asked Timmons.

The Minister shot Timmons an icy glare.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it”.

Eve had left the hospital and had arrived at the new Doomwatch building.

“What do you think?” Miranda asked.
“Wow. It’s different”. Replied Eve unsure how she felt about the new abode.

Adam Quist was idly gnawing on a tuna baguette. As soon as he spotted Eve he wiped the edible dust off his chin.
“Hello boss”. Eve said coyly.

Adam chewed and swallowed the baguette as quickly as he could. He held up his hands to apologies.

“Sorry Eve, great to see you”.
“Any word about Paul?” Miranda asked.
“He should be joining us soon. Now Miranda as your early we should celebrate perhaps you should put the kettle on”.

Miranda raised her eyes to heaven and sighed as she put the kettle on.

“Can’t get the staff…”. Said Adam.

Just then Timmons walked in. Adam and Miranda looked at one another awkwardly. Eve picked up on the tension but had little clue as to its origin. Other than Adam and Miranda seemed embarrassed and were being unusually pleasant to Timmons. Eve wondered if Timmons hadn’t caught them in a compromising position.

“Ahh Timmons…everything fine I hope?” Adam asked.
“Yes Quist I need to brief you on the latest L.C.F developments”.
“Would you like a drink?” Miranda asked.
“You’re offering to make me a drink?” Timmons asked concerned.
“Oh I see I get it it’s because of the other day isn’t it? I see is this pity or confusion on your parts?” Timmons continued.
“Look Timmons, we’ve well I’ve never really had a friend before who is…Fraudianly challenged shall we say?”
“Fraudianly?”
“You know anal”.
“You did not just say that”. Said Miranda.
“I think you should stop digging now”. Timmons replied.

Timmons caught Eve looking confused.

“I came out as gay no biggie”. Timmons said flatly.
“Oh. Well good for you”. Eve said trying not to sound too sycophantic.
“For Gods sake”. Timmons replied.

“So Timmons…what do you have for us?” Adam asked happily.
“You ridicule me all the time. Now because my sexual preference is slightly different you have decided to stop?” Timmons asked.
“You make it sound simple Timmons. I mean are we allowed to adapt the ridicule to include your sexuality? For instance can I call you a pufter and make reference to you having back door action?” Adam asked seriously.
“Yes sure. Whatever. Look we’ve recently acquired some important intel containing huge amounts on the L.C.F, their finances, members and future plans”.
“How?” Miranda asked eagerly.
“Ahmed Patel has come forward. But there’s a problem. Apparently the L.C.F are putting all their efforts into one final movement. They want to cause a racial war between the Christians and the Muslims”.

Adam, Eve and Miranda looked at each other.
“That’ll never happen surely?” Miranda asked.
“Don’t be so sure racial attacks have dramatically increased in recent years”. Timmons said.
“Yeah predominantly thanks to New Labours stupid PC laws”. Adam countered.
“Whatever the reason that’s their plan. We need a counter offensive”.
“A counter offensive to a Jihad?” Miranda said.
“We have to calm the tension down. Already it wouldn’t need much to explode the situation. The young of this country have fought the police and vandalised in the name of their education. It wouldn’t take much to cause them to kill in the name of their religion or racial purity?”

The worrying undertones of this sent a painful, sharp silence through the room. The thought was worrying and painful. Recent events in the UK had shaken the very constitution and the establishment to their aged core.

“So what’s the plan? Do we know how the L.C.F shall begin?” Miranda asked.
“They’re already using the internet to stir up the Islamic extremist groups and the far right. Ahmed doesn’t know the L.C.F’s exact plan but we’ve already started to close down certain websites”. Timmons replied.

“I suppose closing the sites down might encourage hatred”. Adam announced.
“Perhaps but it might deter for the moment at least mass events”.
“If this is the L.C.F’s last stand there going to put everything into it. A civil war won’t bring about their plans to rebuild a idyllic world but it will achieve the goal of maximum destruction of the current order”. Said Eve quietly.
“Exactly”. Replied Adam.
“And what of Ahmed?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t know. He wants his freedom, but that alone is a dangerous security risk”. Timmons answered honestly.
“So no freedom for Ahmed then?” Adam answered his own question as he spoke dryly.
“I doubt it”. Timmons replied.
“And surely if he now is as clever as that he too knows it?” Miranda offered.
Adam and Timmons exchanged a puzzled glance.
“He could be playing you all?” Adam said.
“Yes. It’s possible. But time is running out and we have no choice”. Timmons replied.
“Traps within traps?” Eve said.
“The emergence of a strong multiracial UK would help fight this fevered nationalism?” Adam offered quietly.
“I think the racial hatred has gone to far for that”.
“It also transpires that the L.C.F infiltrated the recent student riot”.

Carly sat in the bathroom her mind filled with her inevitable death. She was dying her hair black and stopped to reflect on her recent losses. Despite the logic and the planning her recent acts had failed. The revolution she and Clive Sellers were working so hard to create had fallen through. Despite people’s interest and the causes popularity people were people. They betrayed her cause and returned after a break to their bourgeoisie lifestyles. They were empty vacant husks. No matter she had found a cause that people will commit violence in the name of. That was the cause of the colour of their skin tones.
Carly looked at herself in the mirror. She knew soon it would all be over. She just wanted to take as many of those bastards down with her as she could. She had been let down but her death wouldn’t be alone.

Timmons climbed out of his car and opened his front door. He sighed and then decided to run a bath. He momentarily stopped running the taps when he thought he heard a noise outside. He then started the taps again.

The figure outside was James Daniels. A disaffected youth who had joined the L.C.F and whom Carly saw as one of her most ardent supporters.

Timmons checked the bathwater and then heard the knock at his front door. A strange panic swept through his mind as he reached out for his pistol. He then slowly crept downstairs and opened the front door. There was no one outside. He walked a few paces into the garden. He looked around the street but there was no sign of any human life. He walked back inside his house and closed the door.

Timmons climbed his stairs when all of a sudden a baseball bat smacked him hard in the face and sent him all the way down the stairs.

James smiled as Timmons lay knocked out on the floor.

“One nil to me I think”. James said.

Slowly Timmons came round. His hands were handcuffed to his feet as he was immobile in the bath.

“What the hell are you doing?” Timmons asked.
“I wanted you to be awake. You’re not the first I’ve killed. I killed that MP. I never got to saviour it though. They say each time you kill it gets easier. Well the first one was easy so I’m hoping to really enjoy this”.

Fear gripped Timmons.
“You’re L.C.F aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged”. James replied laughing.
“Look you must know the game is up. We’re on to you shutting down your sites”.
“Yeah I know. So what you want me to just surrender. No. You’re the one facing imminent death here not me”.
“Please, listen to me!”
“No. You should know you have only won this war because the majority of people are weak. Like yourself. But you will never truly crush the L.C.F because our ideology is too strong. There will be a time when we will rise in the hearts of men”.

With that James started to run the taps.
“No!” Timmons screamed.

James smiled and turned the bathroom light off as he left Timmons there to drown to death.

Timmons struggled to break free but realised he had no way of breaking free the way he was handcuffed. The water continued to pour and soon he would be completely submerged. He then tried to use the water to free his hands from the handcuffs. He struggled to slide his hands out and as his head began to e submerged he held his breathe as suddenly he was under the water…
It was then that he managed to get one hand free. He grabbed the side of the bath and pulled his head out. He took a huge breathe of air.

James skulked outside Timmons house smoking a cheap cigarette. It was then that he noticed a tall elegant man knocking at the door. He immediately stubbed his cigarette out and slinked back out into the shadows.

Timmons heard the knock at the door. At first he thought it was James again until he noted the silhouette was too tall.

“In here!” screamed Timmons as he fought to free his hand. The figure then peered through the glass and began to shoulder barge the door. Eventually the door gave way with a loud bang!

“Timmons!” The man shouted. James followed him into the house.
“Jeffrey pull your socks up!”

Jeffrey took the hint and dropped to the floor as Timmons shot James in the leg. James screamed in agony as he crashed to the ground.

“You failed dickhead”. Timmons announced dryly.

James growled in a mixture of pain and irritation.

Adam was reading through a article on the student riots when his phone rang.
“Hello”.
“Quist it’s me. I’ve got another L.C.F member. He broke into my house and tried to kill me”.
“Shit, are you ok?”
“Yeah he’s not so good. I shot him in the leg. They’re patching him up not before they interrogate him. He seemed a fanatic”.

Adam could here the adrenalin flowing through Timmons anxious voice. So it’s really beginning the endgame? Adam thought to himself.

James sat in silence in the interview room. The nausea flowed through his body like a dry sickness. Opposite him stood two armed burly guards. James wondered if they were chosen for a more psychological purpose than any physical practicality.

“Got a cigarette?” James asked.

There was no reply.
“Thanks”. James replied.

The door opened and Timmons walked in.
“Hello again”. Said James cheerfully.
“You’re in deep shit”. Timmons said matter of factly.
“Look you can break my mind and body but…”

James was shocked when Timmons grabbed him by the neck and threw him to the ground.
“Now listen to me…you have no real fucking idea what is going on here! You are small and insignificant and would be out of your depth in a puddle!”

James glanced over at the two armed guards for support but they merely gazed ahead emotionless and still.
“I need to know what your planning and now!”
James hesitated in his reply. Timmons grabbed James and bent his arms back and threw him over the table.
“I swear you will die in agony! Tell me where she is!”
“Please…my arms”.

With that Timmons smashed his clenched right fist down hard on James leg wound. James surrendered to the pain and screamed out.
“Tell me where she is!”

By the time Adam arrived he saw James badly beaten and Timmons with his shirt sleeves rolled up concluding the interview.

Timmons then left the interview room.

“Well did you discover anything?” Adam asked.
“That bank raid in Essex 6 months ago. The funds were for the L.C.F. But they also had another use. Apparently they’ve been forging money and we had no idea it was going on”.
“Forging money? To sell?” Adam asked.
“No there planning on releasing the money in a big burst and flood the UK economy and cause hyperinflation. So with a civil war and that the UK would be engulfed in chaos and destroyed”.
“Do you know where the money is?”
“Yeah swat teams have already been despatched”.
“Why didn’t Ahmed tell you this?”
“Because he’s worried about what will happen to him after all this is over. Or…he’s playing for time”. Timmons concluded.

Carly knew that James had been captured. Ahmed had told her. She also knew that Ahmed’s motives were dubious. He was playing off both sides and edging his bets. She also knew James had squealed about the counterfeit money. But some had already been put into circulation. Enough to achieve some damage to the economy if not perhaps enough damage. Her racial conflict would also soon come to the fore. The tensions between the Muslim extremists and the far right were almost at breaking point and now governmental plans to abate the tensions would now work.

The confession was signed by James. He looked up at Timmons who loomed over him. Timmons felt compassion for the broken figure in front of him. That he realised was the fundamental difference between extremists and normal people.

“What happens to me now?” James asked quietly.
“That depends on the L.C.F. If you can help us capture Carly then I’m sure we can cut a deal for you. Otherwise you will be locked away for at least a decade for treason”.

Timmons walked out of the room and closed it behind him.

Adam sat looking vaguely ahead. Timmons knew that he was fighting the internal urge to drink.

“We’ve got a signed confession. The first swat team has arrived at the house where the counterfeit money is being created”. Timmons hoped the news would help Adam. Adam just nodded weakly.

“So far so good. Can you make Ahmed talk?” Adam asked.
“We haven’t got heavy with him yet. Do you think we should?” Timmons replied coldly.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I still think we should be careful. The knowledge in his head makes him a double-edged sword. A very sharp one at that”.

There was a slight pause.

“You know he won’t be allowed to live”. Adam said as an empty gesture.
“Would you rather he did. We’ve seen the damage the L.C.F have achieved with him”. Timmons replied trying to convince both Adam and himself that there was no option regarding Ahmed’s fate.

It was then that a armed guard ran in and informed them that Ahmed had stopped breathing.

Timmons followed by Adam ran to the secure end of the building where a doctor was already trying to revive the lifeless Ahmed.

“What the hell happened!” Timmons barked.
“Sir he just collapsed”.
“You were meant to be watching him!”
“We were, he never took anything I swear!”
Timmons turned on the doctor.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know yet. Possibly he had a cyanide capsule in a tooth filling it’s been done before”.

Adam grabbed Timmons arm.

“This doesn’t fit his MO. Something is very wrong here”. Adam said.

Timmons didn’t have time to argue.

“Take him away and give me an autopsy. Whatever you do, do not damage the brain”. Timmons said to the doctor.

The doctor just nodded.

“Timmons, are you sure this is a good idea. Him dying like that. Something is wrong”. Adam repeated.
“Quist I don’t have the time or energy to solve a murder right now. Carly needs to be found and the racial tension dispersed before a civil war breaks out”. Timmons replied.

Adam followed Timmons down a corridor.

“You remind me of how I used to feel”. Adam said.
Timmons offered a smile but it was a thin visage.
“What did you did you do?” Timmons asked.
“I’d drink”. Adam offered,
“I think I have a bottle of malt somewhere. Would it be insensitive for me to offer you one?”
“Yes. But I appreciate the gesture”. Adam said.

Timmons mobile rung into life. The conversation was short and Adam could tell it was deadly serious.

“What’s happened?” Adam asked.
“It’s started. Some Asian youths have fire bombed a church”.

Adam now felt he really needed a drink.
“I honestly had more faith than this in humanity”. Adam muttered quietly.
“There’s still a chance this could just be an isolated incident”. Timmons replied.

The following hours were tense as the government covertly tried to down play the outbreaks of racial violence. Three dens were discovered with the counterfeit money. And various L.C.F members were arrested. The main websites were closed down and trackers were put out by MI5 to search out anyone trying to log in. But the prize catch had slipped through their hands. Carly Whyte had got away. No one knew where she was. Both Timmons and Adam knew while she was still out there she posed a deadly threat. But they were sure she would resurface soon…

THE END

S2E09 - THE KINSEY FACTOR by GERRY FOBON

2010-12-28T07:15:00.000-08:00

“After growing up, they and they alone will be fit to rule the state?”
Plato

The Earth, beautiful in space like a shining blue and green jewel. Out shone in the inner planets by only Venus. Surrounding the Earth are thousands of artificial satellites. Regularly being put into orbit since the 1950’s. Allowing for global communications with ease. For a satellite to successfully remain in low orbit it must travel 8000 miles and then fall a vertical distance of 5 metres. There is another use for these devices, the ability to observe detailed information on particular areas of the planet. Allowing for possible weapons facilities to be located. In the 1980’s there was a plan for a spatial defence system known as “Project Star Wars”. It was abandoned after wasting several billions of dollars on the initial set up. In terms of spatial technology America and Russia still dominate with China approaching fast.

Recently due to the global recession the UK and France joined their military powers. They have also been sharing their technologies in private and with their satellites they now have the power jointly to spy anywhere with limited fear of detection. One of their satellites alone couldn’t do it, but the satellite’s power is boosted when it’s in an array of other satellites. It was with this that the united powers detected the build up of North Korean forces across the demilitarised zone known as the Korean Peninsula.

Adam Quist walked into his new office. It was more spacious than his old Doomwatch office. It was an older building and as such had more of a soul. He awaited their first assignment. The first person he saw that day was Timmons.

“Morning Adam”. Timmons said pleasingly.
“Hi Timmons. Any news on Paul?”
“He should be here by next week”.
“Oh I suppose I’ll make my own coffee”.

It was then that Miranda came in.

“I’ve got our first assignment!” she announced grandly.
“Go on it doesn’t involve anything downbeat does it?”
“No quite the opposite in fact. Homosexuality!” she exclaimed in a over the top manner.
“Aren’t you being stereotypical?” Timmons asked.
“I’m being gay!” she exclaimed happy.
“That’s what I mean. Surely not every gay person is like that”.
“No I mean that’s what gay means. Happy excited”.
“I see. Well I’ll go”.
“Not so fast we’ve been asked to take part in a Kinsey scale and judge whether or not we think it could be introduced on the secondary school curriculum”.
“Kinsey scale?” Asked Adam.
“It’s a test to see if you respond to homosexual stimulus”.
“Are we going to watch gay porn because I think I’d rather watch the lesbian stuff to be honest”. Said Adam with conviction.

Timmons laughed.

“You two aren’t taking this seriously”.
“It’s funny how politics change. In the 1980’s the Conservative Party brought out clause 28”. Said Adam coldly.
“Clause 28?” Queried Miranda.
“Yes it was rule that homosexuality should be suppressed in schools.There was too be no mention of it. Ignored and presumably they hoped it would go away”. Adam replied.
“That’s…horrible”.
“That’s nothing in certain Islamic states it still warrants the death penalty”. Replied Timmons.

The downbeat atmosphere was interrupted by Timmons phone.

“Oh it seems I’m wanted, I’ll have to take part later on”.
“Make sure you do. No one should have to repress their real self Timmons”.

Timmons felt awkward mainly because he didn’t know why he felt awkward. Instead he left quietly. Adam grinned.

“I think you hit a nerve there. Now about this lesbian porn…”
“Nice try. Oh and don’t think I’ll be making the coffee either”.
“What’s the point in being in charge if you have to make your own bloody coffee?” Adam ranted childishly.

Timmons strolled into the minister’s office. There he saw the minister was his usual solemn self.

“We can trust you can’t we Timmons? After all you want Doomwatch too succeed don’t you?” The Minister said without looking up.
“Of course sir”.
“And you have a good brain in there Timmons. It might be a bit weak with liberalism but in essence works fine”.
“Thank you”. Timmons said without obvious sarcasm.

Finally the minister looked up.
“Then I’d like your opinion”.

The Minister opened his desk and pulled out a file and handed it to Timmons. Timmons opened the file. It contained satellite images of tanks and mobile missile launchers and platforms.

“This is some pretty devastating hardware”.
“It was taken jointly in secret with France. The images are very damning, particularly when you consider that the equipment is North Korean and they have breached the demilitarised zone in the Korean Peninsula. Question is what do we do with the intel”.
“Can’t you hand it over to America?” Timmons asked.
“They don’t know we’ve done this. We promised them we’d assist and not do things in secret. Our crime would be companioned to the North Koreans breaching their boundaries”.

Timmons considered this.
“The Americans aren’t fools surely they’d know soon?”
“Their playing their cards close to their chest and are desperate to appease the North Koreans. Since early 2010 North Korea has sunk a battleship belonging to South Korea and shelled it. However the Americans have now sworn to defend South Korea. Even though North Korea has a nuclear arsenal. What’s worse is that the North Korean leader Kim John Il is believed to be dying. We have no intel on his successor believed to be his son. Things are very, very bad”.

Timmons could see how serious the minister was.

“Do you want Doomwatch involved sir is that why I’m here”.
“God no Timmons, I want Doomwatch distracted and out of our business whilst we work out the best course of action. That is why you’re here. It is imperative that Adam Quist, John Ridge and the others get no wind of this do you understand?”
“Yes sir”.

Adam examined the report on the Kinsey scale. He then realised that Miranda was serious and made his own coffee. After wards with some unique power akin to that of a Jedi knight Miranda even persuaded Adam to make her a cup of tea.

“Didn’t Fraud teach about the anal stage in his psychosexual theories?” Adam asked as he stirred her tea.
“Yes, however it’s a misconception that all gay men are into that”.
“What else would they do?” Adam asked genuinely interested.
“Just oral?”
“Have you been watching gay porn?” Adam asked.
“No it seems there is a lot to be learned about their life styles”.
“I tell you what I’ve always been confused about”. Adam said as if he was about to expose a deep revelation.
“Go on we’re all friends here”.
“Well if lesbians aren’t attracted to men why do they always end up with a woman that looks like Phil Mitchell? I mean that’s not logical is it”.
“I think that could be offensive”.
“That doesn’t answer my question”.
“They’re not all butch”.
“No just the 98% who drive buses”. Adam replied.
“You did not just say that”. Miranda countered after an awkward pause.

Adam took a swig of his coffee then exhaled with delight as he spoke.

“That is a damn fine cup of coffee”.

KUNSAN AIR BASE. SOUTH KOREA.

Major Clarence Wright looked out at the four stealth bombers situated on the runway. He had hoped this day would not come. Since 1953 when a ceasefire was called he (was still four years off being born) he had believed a rough piece would hold. After the fall of communism in Russia he assumed the other regimes would fold too. But plucky Cuba and North Korea were still in the game. And now he had the uncomfortable thought that he might lead the offensive into North Korea. A country run by Kim John Il and with a plethora of nuclear weaponry and technology.

The Northtrop Grumman stealth bomber was designed to carry both conventional and nuclear bombs if necessary. It was invisible to radar due to the use of low acoustics and infrared visual and radar signature. The cost of just one of these aircraft was immense. In 1997 money the cost of one plane was $553 million. Clarence hoped that bloodshed could be avoided because if a state of war was declared the bloodshed would be immense. To keep morale high some of the air force crews had written TAKE THAT MOTHER FUCKERS on the side of the missiles. Part of Major Wright wished that they hadn’t but if his men were going to die then it was a sentiment he shared with them.

Adam and Miranda were reading various texts on “Queer theory”. A form of theorising which was christened in the 1990’s the terminology denotes that a person can choose which sexuality they wish to be and experiment with as the previous narrow minded thinking that someone should be with a member of the opposite sex for the sole purpose of reproduction.

“It seems that since the 1990’s in the UK there has been a massive flux in the rise of militant homosexual organisations like OutRage which seek to publicly oust people if they are gay or bisexual. I presume these organisations were a deliberate reaction to the homophobic mentality of the Conservative party of the 1980’s”. Adam said.
“I knew you would be interested when you began to look into it”.
Miranda said. Adam didn’t reply as he seemed engrossed.
“To be honest I think not drinking is also helping”. Came his late reply.
“I’m glad you’ve been able to kick it”.
“I’ll never be able to truly kick it, but I’m determined never to be seduced again. They tell you this at AA”.

Miranda smiled a genuine smile that Adam reflected back at her.

“It says here that one of the key points of Queer theory is that it aims to destabilise the power relations maintain sexual identities and categorisations which force homosexuals into a private world. I suppose that it must be a truly horrendous sense of alienation growing up gay. I never really thought about it. Too often on TV and in the news we see the upbeat happy go lucky gay stereotype. You know I was sceptical about this mandate but I’m beginning to really think the Kinsey scale in secondary education might well be a good thing”.

Timmons pondered economically how soon he would be able to retire. But to be truly comfortable in later years he’d have to be at least 60. He felt depressed. If only he had a million no two million pounds. No more he wasn’t overtly greedy just two million pounds. Three would definitely be too much. Maybe two and a half just to allow for inflation. No more though, no he resolutely decided he wasn’t greedy.

Adam decided to visit Eve on his lunch break. She seemed to be getting stronger and better. Adam was glad and he informed her that she could have her old job back if she wanted. To his surprise she agreed. He felt she was perfectly in her right to turn it down after what happened. The L.C.F were of course still out there somewhere posing a threat. They talked and so much time flew by rapidly. Two hours melted down in what felt like no time at all.

Ridge arrived at the office and was coaxed into taking the Kinsey test along with Adam and Timmons. Miranda relished giving out the results.

“The results gentlemen are as followed. With very little sexual stimuli to homosexuality is…Ridge”.
Ridge smiled.
“Naturally”. He said.
“Followed by Adam who has little interest and Timmons…who has significantly more”.

Ridge grinned.
“Could you clarify please what significantly more means”. Ridge said.
“Shut up”. Came Timmons reply.
“My good man it is nothing to be ashamed of. Some of our countries finest dancers are gay”.
“Ok for your information I am gay and thank you for assisting now if you’ll excuse me”.

With that Timmons hurriedly left. Adam, Miranda and Ridge exchanged glances as time froze.

“Did he just come out to us?” Adam asked no one in particular.
“Yeah…I think he did”. Miranda replied.
“Oh great now we can’t joke about it. Oh thank you very much Miranda”.

With that Ridge stormed off. Adam and Miranda exchanged glances.

“Did Ridge just storm off because you proved Timmons is gay?”
“Yeah I think so”.
“It’s going to be one of those days isn’t it?”

THE END

S2E08 - TRIAL OF THE CENTURY by GRANT FOXON

2010-12-28T07:09:00.000-08:00

“Far from oppressing these so-called excesses, these examples of popular vengeance against hated individuals or public buildings which have acquired actual memories, we must not only condone these examples but lend them a guiding hand”.
Karl Marx

The large television played out the images of recent student revolts and the smashing down of Tory Party HQ. The men sitting in the room at Whitehall, four very important shadow men all devout Conservatives, the images were hard to stomach. They were all aware how hard it had been to get another Tory leader into the position of Prime Minister, and this action had led to an uneasy alliance with the Liberals. And now the people were being stirred up. A genuine PR coup was needed. Usually a war would suffice but not here. The British forces were already locked into “peace keeping” activities that were very unpopular.
“We need something big to show people we are for them”.
The others pondered these words.
“If we can’t win a war perhaps we could arrest a war criminal?”
“Do you care to elaborate?”
“Certainly. How about Tony Blair?”
Everyone fell silent. If he was indeed arrested it would be a massive coup and would send appreciation figures through the roof. And the Labour Party’s obvious fighting of this action would have the added bonus of putting them in a bad light.
“Could we do it?”
“I imagine so. Of course the Americans wont like it. But as they currently don’t have full control of the IMF and they are having internal problems I think we could do it. We’d have to nab him on British soil though?”
The shadows considered the words.
“Alright then. But who would be willing to take part in the trial?”
“Doomwatch. The peoples have a lot of faith in Doomwatch. And I imagine the former members would be willing. In return for their re-unification they act as defence and prosecution council”.
“And what would the verdict be?”
“What else could it be…guilty”.

Ridge paced his home anxiously. He had been anonymously informed that Doomwatch will be revived. Of course he knew it would come with some price he just wondered what that would be? He knew only to well that as good as Doomwatch was it could not survive the machinations of political gravity.
It was then that Ridge’s phone rung out. Ridge immediately grabbed the receiver. It was Timmons on the other end.

“Ridge, they want to speak to you?”
“They?”
“Some gentlemen from the ministry, regarding Doomwatch”.
“I understand. Where shall I meet them?”
“They say they will come round tonight if that’s ok?”.
“Yes, certainly that’s fine”.
“Good, see you then”.
With that Timmons hung up. The choices of words implied to Ridge that perhaps these elusive “ministry figures” were there in the room with him. No matter. So Doomwatch could come back once again a phoenix from the flames.

“Well?” The minister asked with a clearly on a vague interest.
“He said yes”.
“Excellent news Timmons. So what do you think?”
“The idea…well I can’t see it happening”.
“Oh dear. Why not?”
“Well Sir, for a start if a trial could be assembled wouldn’t he be tried in the Hague?”
“Possibly but we can always come up with some explanation”.
“And the whole legality sir. I mean is it necessary”.
“Timmons. This country morale is becoming an all time low. Society has become too insular and has been over fed on consumerism. The inertia in the nervous system has condensed our attitudes and institutions into pure greed and laziness. The work ethic is gone now, people don’t see the point in pride. A royal wedding has been staged to boost morale but Whitehall is dubious far from being the unification of British emotions some think others believe it will signal the end. Australia is on the verge of removing our royal family as their monarchs as we take France’s lead and become one step closer to a republic. The only event that can unify the country and stop the mass break up would be a trial. A trial to restore belief in justice. A trial that can unify religions for a time and promote peace. That is what we must do. Don’t you see the L.C.F recently tried to unite in hatred. It didn’t work. Right idea wrong emotion. This can work Timmons, and don’t tell me you won’t be glad to see a reunited Doomwatch?”
Timmons realised the trial would go ahead regardless. And at least Doomwatch was indeed a source for good.
“Very well sir”.
“Good, then we’re agreed”.

Adam Quist had been rebuilding his life. Recent events had a huge emotional impact and his body had reflected that. He had lost much weight and his hair was getting greyer. He was almost absorbed in self-destruction. He had fought hard against his alcohol dependency. For so long the drink had been a constant companion to turn too in times of happiness and sadness. But no longer. Now he had to completely avoid alcohol. His life depended on it, no longer dependent on it.

Timmons was still unsure as too the governments plan and just couldn’t envisage it happening. However he could tell they were indeed serious about the plan and despite the issues of legality there seemed a genuine case for an unjustified invasion. Despite how brutal the regime was. It was a curious juxtaposition polemic. He reminded himself of the old saying The way to hell, is paved with good intentions.

“It seems people are only realising that the Chinese now have dominion over14% of the internet”.
“14% interesting perhaps they would be willing to help spread some anti Blair sentiment?”
“Perhaps for a price of course”.
“Of course”.
“We all know how successful their recent boycotting of the Nobel Peace prize ceremony was”.
“Yes and of course the Americans have already speculated that the Chinese have used the Internet for specious and unwarranted claims. I think it would definitely be useful for our purposes”.
“And they have master keys?”
“Oh yes. Special encryption keys which allow them access to break into internet accounts. With luck these will be more than rumour”.

The shadows were quite in contemplation.

“I suppose as the axis of power is in China’s favour then it should all be good”.
“Of course ergo day absolvo”.
“Are we expecting any politicians to come to his defence?”
“Possibly but the cult of personality has long been destroyed and tarnished beyond any real hope of salvation”.

The shadows discussed the situation.

Ridge met the minister along with Timmons. He had to admit reforming Doomwatch to be used initially as a tool in perhaps the most controversial trial in hundreds of years was dubious to say the least. For a start he remembered Doomwatch was resurrected last time as a tool to be used to fight Clive Sellers and the L.C.F. He also became aware very quickly that it would be a kangaroo court. However the minister had a trump card. The immediate release and return of Paul Grover.

Ridge felt he owed Paul a great deal, therefore Timmons and Ridge with moderate reluctance agreed. As they left Ridge’s mind raced with possibilities.

“What do you think of the plan Ridge?” Timmons asked gently.
“In truth I think it’s insane. I can’t see any logic or merit in it. I think there really using Doomwatch and have some other scheme on the go. I think there are some flashes of politik genius in the plan though, for instance it forces the Labour party into check. They will be divided and will probably be unable to attack or defend the trial with any clear perspective, this will have the effect of making them look rather weak to the electorate”.

Ridge tried not to sound to impressed as he spoke.

“So you admire their guile?” Timmons offered.
“Yes but what’s the use in guile if you match it with insanity?” Ridge countered aggressively.

“But surely they wouldn’t risk such a scheme if they didn’t think they could succeed?”
“Well intelligence within the intelligence service has been questionable for many years. It’s about getting the balance between old dinosaur cold war relics and inexperience youngsters. Between being to cautious and too extremist. But I’m convinced we are not being given the whole picture here?”

Miranda leaned back looking at the various stereotypes that adorned the job centre. Dear God, I am here now. All those years at uni have brought me here. In the local DSS Stalag.

A Vicki Pollard look a like with four children sat nearby playing with her phone. It was then that Miranda noticed that all of her children seemed to be different ethnicity. A thought then struck Miranda that this woman’s vagina truly was a melting pot of races and perhaps was what a future Utopia would look like? Where various races and peoples literally come together.
This philosophical train of thought was broken by the woman’s young son kicking a terrified middle aged man in the leg and the woman responding by raising her eyes and smiling before returning to face book.

If this is the future maybe the L.C.F do indeed have a point? Miranda contemplated.

It was then that a squat middle aged woman, with a Hitleresque streak, thick glasses and the sort of constant frown which echoed the fact she never gets any sexual attention summoned her over.

Here we go stage one of losing one’s own dignity. Miranda thought as she sat opposite the woman.

“Right Miranda, what have you been doing to look for work?”
Miranda handed over her job book detailing her efforts (a few fictional) to look for work. The frigid nazi scrutinised them and then handed them back.

“There’s jobs at The Pizza Palace”.
“I’m sorry?”
“The Pizza Palace”.

Miranda realised this wasn’t an unsuccessful attempt at sarcasm as the woman wasn’t capable of humour. Her stomach tightened as she thought about her credit card debt and how a life as waitress would mean she would be permanently trapped in debt and pizza.

“Well I was hoping to look for work where I could put my qualifications to some use…”
“There’s a recession on”. Came the frigid monosybilic reply.
“Yes…I am aware of the current economic climate but…”

The frigid nazi raised her hand to silence Miranda as she printed off the details of the job and handed them over to Miranda.

“Here’s the details. I’ll sign your job book for now but I want you to apply for this job”.

Miranda in defeat felt this moment was her Treaty of Versailles and accepted the document and lowered her head in submission.

Adam was finally beginning to heal after years of alcohol abuse. True he knew deep down he was a damaged person. And no amount of clean living and therapy would truly heal his deep emotional scars. But he decided to pay Eve a visit in hospital following the news that she was no longer in a coma. Adam wondered if his prayers had indeed been answered.

“Now that we have decided on a plan how do we implement is?”
“Yes it is tricky. Obviously we want to avoid an international incident. We’ll have to capture him here in England”.
“So we just need a lure?”
“Yes. It seems money works well. Perhaps even flattery by asking him to attend a naming ceremony of a hospital in his honour?”
“That should work right there we have a lure, now we need to be certain that Doomwatch will be ready”.

With that the shadows had decided on the best plan of attack.

Arriving at the hospital Adam went to the toilets. He splashed cold water on his face and looked in the mirror. He could see his red eyes, years of alcohol abuse. He rubbed his weary head and wondered what state his liver must be in?
With that Adam left the gents and headed towards Eve’s ward.

Inside the ward Eve was idly flicking through a gossip magazine.

“Eve, it’s good to see you”. Adam tried to exclaim is words bombastically but they came out more like a whimper.
“Mr Quist? How are you?”
“Fine”. He lied.
“Miranda came and told me everything that has happened”. Eve said solemnly. Secretly Adam was glad of this because he was dreading telling Eve.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty bad”.
“How’s Paul?”
“Honestly I don’t know. I think he’s been captured in Florida by the police or FBI or somebody. I know Timmons is trying to do all he can to get him back”.
“Poor Paul”.
“Poor you Eve. You’ve been in a coma you could have died. You know my drinking got worse and I wished it was me in the coma and you ok”.

Eve smiled apologetically.

“Anyway…any plans?”
“I’ve got to stay here in hospital for observations for a few more days maybe a week then hopefully I should get the all clear”.
Adam grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“I’m really pleased. I can’t tell you what it means that you’re ok again”.

Timmons was summoned once again to the minister. He and Ridge had yet to inform Adam or Miranda about the decision to reform Doomwatch.

“Yes sir?” Timmons asked as he approached the Minister.
“A how are you is customary Timmons even if you don’t mean it”.
“Sorry sir”.
“You’ll be pleased to know that we’ve arranged for Mr Grover to be handed over to us”.
“That’s brilliant news sir! Thank you”.
“We also found something out. It seemed that his partner Sam was it?”

Thinking of Sam made Timmons throat sting.

“Yes Sam”.
“She was a L.C.F member”.
Timmons froze he couldn’t believe it.
“What?”
“The Americans traced their URL and found she was a definite member. It seemed she joined shortly before she met Paul Grover”.
“You mean she may have deliberately gone with him because he was in Doomwatch?”
“It looks like a possibility”.
“But she was pregnant with his child. The remains were examined…”
“Yes she was pregnant, that is true. But the L.C.F members are fanatics”.
“Do you think she could have known about the bomb?”
“We don’t speculate Timmons”.
“Ok…ok but do you suspect that sir?”

The Minister contemplated for a moment.
“Highly unlikely after all a pregnant mothers loyalties would naturally be divided which is why she may have been instructed to go there that day under the precursor of meeting Doomwatch or getting some intel”.
“When in reality the L.C.F were sending her to her death?”
“Yes. Anyway just thought you should know. See you”.

With that the Minister casually strolled away. Timmons immediately felt he should speak to someone about this revelation. Then he asked himself what good it would do. By implication the Minister pointed out that the dead foetus might not have been Paul’s. Sam’s body (what was left) was to charred to get a DNA examination of the foetus. Telling Paul would probably do more harm than good. No he decided to put the information to the back of his mind.

That evening Timmons needed a scotch to clear his mind and allow himself thinking space. It was then that he drifted off without realising. His dream was a vivid one in which he was present at the gallows when Tony Blair was hung. He watched as Tony delivered his final words…

“I call on you not to hate because hate does not leave space for a person to be fair and it makes you blind and closes all doors of thinking”.

With that Tony Blair was hung.

Ridge called round to Adam that evening. He was pleased to see that he was in high spirits and talking with a previous unknown air of optimism.

“Adam, Doomwatch is coming back”. Ridge said loudly with joy.
“Good. I’m glad”.

Ridge was concerned that that was Adam’s complete reply.

“Don’t you want to know the details?”
“No”.
“It ‘ll be as it was before”.
“What when it blew up because of nut job eco terrorists and killed a pregnant woman and put another in a coma. No thanks Ridge”.
“Adam we really need you on board”.
“NO! No more Ridge”.

Ridge was taken aback he wasn’t expecting this sort of reply.

“But Adam…Doomwatch needs you”.
“Look I’ll consider it Ridge now if you don’t mind I want to go to bed”.

Ridge nodded and quietly exited. Adam then went into a cupboard in the living room and pulled out a bottle of whisky. He undid the lid and sniffed the contents. He then put the lid back on and screamed as he threw the bottle at the wall.

Ridge had better look with Miranda. Too say she overjoyed was an understatement. She leapt around the room shouting something about Pizza and fascists. But he was glad that she was back on board.

“Oh dear there’s been…a complication”.
“Complication? What is it?”
“It seems Tony Blair is in a hospital in Nevada. A rather secure hospital”.
“For what reason?”
“Someone has already attempted to assassinate him”.
“Ahh that does complicate our plans. It’s a set back indeed”.
“What about Doomwatch?”
“Well we got Paul Grover back…I suppose we should let them reform now they could still be useful to us”.
“Yes. It’s a shame I suppose there’s still a chance Tony Blair will die?”
“History will judge and will absolve us”.

The shadows viewed their setbacks with distaste but continued on with their day.

THE END

S2E07 - THE BIG TIME by GRANT FOXON

2010-12-28T07:04:00.000-08:00

“A man full of courage is also full of faith”
Cicero

Coffee. Everything seemed better when an attractive waitress serves you coffee. Or at least that was Ridge’s view on the matter.
Sipping slowly, Ridge did wonder how much worse things could get. He was hoping Timmons would get word back to him soon on the state of Paul Grover and if the U.S were going to deport him or not. At least Adam was getting help for his drinking Ridge mused.
Another sip and Ridge caught a glimpse of a blonde waitress cleaning a table. Although he would never admit it, Ridge now wondered in his old age what it was he used to do. Sex seemed like another life, one that was important, gone but not terribly missed. A bit like Margaret Thatcher in some respect. Of course, Ridge likes to keep up the sexist and aging lothario routine as it suited his character.
Beside Ridge sat an awkward broadsheet. Offering a vague yawn up. Ridge began to flick through the newspaper.
“Marxist bollocks”. Ridge muttered to himself at one piece, then as he flicked through the rest, a name presented itself and a mental dam of memories suddenly broke. That name was Albino Luciani, otherwise known as Pope John Paul I. Putting the newspaper down Ridge surrendered himself to his memories.

DECEMBER 1978.

The winter of discontent had devastating effect on the mood in Britain. Three-day weeks, cemeteries refusing the burials of the dead and the trade unions running amok had left an alienated and massively divided country. Doomwatch had looked into the moral of the nation but with the economy nose-diving under James Callaghan’s Labour government (no change there then) there was little to sooth the unrest. Various outbreaks of racist riots and various IRA attacks threatened to engulf the country. It seemed as though it really was the end. Four months earlier it was for one pope who reigned a mere thirty-three days.

Ridge flicked through the newspaper at the bar as Clive Sellers sat opposite him distracted by something. Ridge took a swig of his pint but noticed that Clive hadn’t touched his.
“Sellers you alright?”
There was a distracted pause.
“Do you think this world is fucked?” Clive asked plainly.
“Please Clive, speak your mind”. said Ridge with playful sarcasm.
“Seriously Ridge. What the hell is going on?”
“This isn’t about punk again is it? I rather like it”.
“No. I’m no fan of God or religion but there is talk that Pope John Paul was murdered”.

Ridge took another swig of his pint.
“Well, remember the Borgias? I mean, Italy has its fair share of shame. I don’t suppose Vatican City would be any different?”
“Apparently, the Red Brigade is building up their attacks again. You know I wish I was consulted about being born because I think I would rather of declined the experience”.
Finally, with that Clive started to drink.
“Apparently Ridge, not only vast sums of money but illegal bonds have found there way into the Vatican bank”.
“Come on, there’s always stories of corruption…”
“The FBI seems to be taking it very seriously and want one particular Bishop who has now taken up residency at the Vatican. The very one who Pope John Paul was investigating”.
Ridge put his paper down.
“Ok. I could believe it. So what. Corruption is everywhere. Look at Idi Amin. It’s not our problem Clive, you have to forget about it”.
Ridge saw anger flash of Clive’s face.
“Why?”
“Look if the Vatican is stopping the FBI what the hell can we do?” Ridge tried to speak bluntly to break Clive’s train of thought.

“It seems that even Isitituto per la Opere di Religione allegedly may have been involved in money laundering”.
“Look Clive we’ve got more than enough problems in this country at the moment. Society here is breaking down, and the leader of the opposition is a woman. Come on let it go”.
“But if justice at the Vatican can be served imagine the effect it could have? 800 million people about a fifth of the populous look to the Pope for guidance”.

Ridge had to admire Clive. Clearly he meant well even if his efforts were misguided. And right now his prolonged talks of morality and the church were turning insipid.

“For God’s sake Clive give it a rest! What the hell can we do? Seriously what can we do? Doomwatch makes a change and helps but other than that you can moralise and theorise till the cows come home it’s not going to achieve anything is it?” Ridge lost his nerve then instantly regretted it. He knew that Clive Sellers was a decent man. The death of his parents lately had meant Clive had thrown himself into his work. And now he could see he was becoming to closely involved in things.

“Clive, look I’m sorry…”
“Doomwatch. Department for the Observation and Measurement of Scientific Work. I suppose spirituality, corruption, fraud and murder don’t really apply”.

Clive spoke coldly and then took another swig of his lager.

“Look Clive, have you thought about a holiday. I mean if ever there was a time to get the hell out of the country it’s now”.

Clive took another swig.
“Ridge, the whole world is falling apart. The 20th century has been the century of the dictatorship it doesn’t really matter where you go does it? Do you remember that film footage from a few years ago of Saigon being evacuated?”
“Not this again Clive”.
“Those Southern Vietnamese trying to cling to the US helicopters as they evacuate and the burly marines smacking them in the face. I wonder if they still remember those they left behind to be tortured and executed?”

Ridge rubbed his head.

“Your becoming morose”. Ridge uttered.
“And you are becoming ignorant. The world is falling apart Ridge and I’m not sitting around drinking my pint, reading my paper with one foot in and one out. We need action!”

Ridge clapped slowly mocking Clive’s moment of empowerment.

“Very good but the leadership contest is over Margaret won. Mind you the US Elections are next year if you’re quick I’m sure they’ll buy it”.

Clive leaned back. Ridge pulled out a cigar and lit it. He then took a deep drag.

“You know you really are an idealist. Is that how you joined Doomwatch?”
“Well considering the last one Toby blew up…” Clive countered. This clearly had an emotion impact on Ridge.

“Well at least even Toby didn’t want to save the bloody world”. Ridge argued back.
“Of course not we at Doomwatch don’t want that do we? I mean it’s bad for business”.
“If the old man could hear you…wait have you shared your ideals with him”.
“I’m sure Dr Quist would believe in it”.
“Oh yes he is a great pacifist. Mind you if I’d been involved in the Manhattan Project I imagine guilt would make me a saint too”. Ridge replied.

That night Ridge felt bad about the argument with Clive, but he was becoming obsessed. He decided that a word with Dr Spencer Quist might be the only answer.

Clive was too busy to contemplate the emotional minefield he had strayed into whilst at the pub. Instead he had found that he had received word from a private source. A bishop here in the UK who like Clive felt that Pope Paul had met a dubious ending and that his death was because he was a good man who wanted to end the corruption which other sources were allowing in.
In front of Clive was a document. The document was damming evidence against the man in charge of the Vatican bank. It had been put together by various leading Catholic figures. It contained Intel on various companies the Vatican had shares in including a rather successful pharmaceutical which manufactured a make of oral contraceptive. Clive read the document from cover to cover. It was explosive yet it was still largely hearsay (despite the amount of religious figures involved gathering the information). But there was still a lot to suggest the dodgy dealings going on. Some dated back to the earlier parts of the twentieth century where various criminality sources invested money and even donated large sums to buy the church. There was a large amount of dealings between Mussolini and the Vatican. Papal power was greatly built up in his reign and many die-hard fascists were promoted throughout the church.

Of course it wasn’t all corruption, but the corrupt had infected large areas of the Vatican and seemed to have certainly wormed their way through into the financial areas. In the document this was pointed out because they were “good with money”. And many had risked their careers even their lives in getting Clive this information. But now he wondered what should he do with the information? As Clive read on it seemed there was another fear as well as the corruption that of the investigation by the FBI and IRS based in Chicago, which seemed to be snowballing in momentum, as well as Interpol and SID outside the US were keen to trace other links to various “dubious” accounts and companies that apparently were linked to the Vatican. If the links could be explicitly proven that the Vatican bank was involved in laundering vast quantities of money for the mafia and even embezzlement. Clive was in no doubt it would need a gigantic investigation involving CIA, Interpol, KGB and various other countries. But Clive still wondered with right on their side could he help justice be served?

Other noteworthy pieces in the document came the accusation that the Mafias activities are tolerated to stop the communists gaining power in Italy. As well as the Mafia it seemed that the Vatican note only was infiltrated at the highest echelons by members of various Masonic practises but also that they were involved with the shadowy P2 organisation as well. And the phrase “reform the Vatican bank into a new form of banking institution” kept reappearing.

Clive felt sick reading at the political corruption. He then began to really believe that they were more than capable of murdering a Pope?

Ridge by contrast had a good night. He had pulled a rather tasty receptionist and although he did have to fake an interest in wine or whatever it was she was going on about she more than made up for it back at his place. She was a rather posh brunette, so posh in fact that it made him feel like the “bit of rough”. But today was a new day and Ridge decided he needed to speak to Dr Spencer Quist head of Doomwatch about Clive. He needed time off mentally more than physically. When Ridge himself had his breakdown he recognised a glint in the eye, which Sellers was now displaying.
Dr Spencer Quist sat in his office reading a scientific journal. There was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Dr Quist shouted without looking up.

Ridge entered the room. Quist looked up and saw the doom-laden tone wrote over Ridge’s face.

“Not good news then?” Quist asked knowing the answer.
“Does Clive have the day off?”
“Yes that’s right”. Quist answered unsure where this was going.
“Good, he needs to be let off permanently”.
“What?”
“The mans obsessed I know where his mind is at. He wants to launch an investigation into John Paul’s murder for goodness sake”.

Dr Spencer Quist leaned back in his seat.

“I haven’t noticed any deterioration in his work”.
“It’s not the damn work that’s at sake, it’s the man’s mind!”
“Spare me the histrionics Ridge”. Quist replied.

Ridge decided a different approach was needed and indicated to the vacant chair. Dr Quist nodded and sat down.

“Look, I don’t mean to be melodramatic here but I don’t quite think you seethe severity of the situation”. Ridge talked softer.

Dr Quist pondered for a moment.

“You really think Clive’s mental health is that bad”.
“He’s not mad and he’s a brilliant scientist but he’s been through a lot of crap recently and I’m telling you he needs some forced leave whether he likes it or not”.

Dr Quist considered Ridge’s words.

“Alright then Ridge I’ll look into it”.

Satisfied Ridge stood up.

“Thank you”.

Ridge left the office and Dr Quist paused a moment for reflection. He turned to a nearby filing cabinet where his staff’s personal files are kept. He flicked through until he found Clive Sellers. He then pulled the file out and began to read. The psychological profile did seem to suggest that Clive suffered from a euphoria-depression.
Dr Quist put the file down and rubbed his aching brow. He decided that perhaps Ridge was indeed right on this one.

When Clive did return to work the next day he seemed even more distracted. Ridge offered him a cup of tea, Clive declined as Dr Quist beckoned him into his office. Ridge gave Clive an awkward glance to suggest he was sorry.

Inside the office Clive felt a strange sense of foreboding.

“Clive please take a seat”.

Clive duly obeyed and sat down.

“How are you Clive?” Dr Quist asked with genuine concern.

Clive thought hard before he answered.
“I’m fine thank you Dr Quist”.

Dr Quist sat opposite and pulled out Clive’s file.

“You’ve been under a lot of pressure of late Clive…” Dr Quist began but Clive interrupted.

“I think I know where this is going. It’s him isn’t it? Ridge he’s said something to you?” Clive tried to mask the paranoia in his voice.
“Yes Ridge did say something he’s concerned”.

Clive laughed.

“I bet he is”.
“What does that mean?” Dr Spencer asked with confusion.
“He’s jealous. Look at my work. Have you seen any deterioration in quality? No of course you haven’t”. Clive began to get irate.
“Clive I don’t think Ridge…”

Clive immediately stood up and slammed his fists on the table.

“He wants my job! He hates me!” Clive bellowed like a psychotic animal mortally wounded.

Dr Quist was shocked by his outburst as Ridge burst into the room.

“Everything ok?”

Ridge looked to Dr Quist for a reply. Quist nodded.
“You are immediately on leave for at least two months. You will receive half pay as well as various other monetary entitlements”. Dr Quist spoke calmly to Clive who didn’t appear to be listening. Clive nodded and then slowly skulked out of the room.

At home Clive felt not better. Dr Spencer Quist perhaps the one human being he genuinely liked and believed in and he had lost himself to rage in a pathetic display of behaviour. Now he had played right into Ridge’s hands. He thought for the first time about seriously leaving Doomwatch.
He glanced at the damning file before him about the murder of Pope John Paul. It was then that there was a knock at the door. Clive wasn’t expecting any visitors and carefully glanced the room for possible makeshift weapons should the need arise.

Clive opened the door. Standing awkwardly was a young priest.

“Clive Sellers?” the priest asked.
“Yes”. Clive replied.
“I’m Father David Phipps. May we speak?”

Clive nodded and allowed the priest in. He then directed him into his lounge.

“What is this about?” Clive asked defensively.
“Mr Sellers, I believe you have a document in your possession that paints a very worrying picture of the church”.

Clive smiled.
“So it is genuine?”

Phipps nodded apologetically.
“I’m afraid so Mr Sellers, but I implore you one cannot fight an evil at the cost of a greater evil. There are certain undesirable elements within the Vatican and his holiness was working to stop them. But you cannot release this document, it would cause misery and doubt to millions and would give the more right members a coup de tat. Please give the document to me and allow the church to put its own house in order”.

Phipps gave a good argument Clive had to admit.

“So you have real faith that things can change?”
“Of course”.

Clive smiled and decided to test the priest’s faith. He disappeared into the kitchen and then returned with a glass with what looked like water in it.

“Have you heard of the poison digitalis?” Clive asked the nervous priest.
“Yes”.
“Good. Then you know its effectiveness both as a poison and as hard to trace. Mixed with the water in that glass is enough to end your life quickly. If you are willing to die for your beliefs then that will I promise you that the document will be destroyed. Otherwise tomorrow I shall go public with all I know and believe”.

Phipps smiled at first falsely believing the words to be some form of rouse. Then he realised Clive was deadly serious.

“A martyrs death as it were”. Clive reiterated.

Phipps looked at the glass and then without thinking he downed all the water. As it made his way down his throat he began to gasp as his body tried to fight the poison. He then began to cough uncontrollably as Clive watched on with only passive interest. In a few minutes Phipps’s body crashed to the floor and he was dead.

“Thank you. You have restored my faith somewhat”.

Back in the present Ridge idly glanced through the paper. It was then he spotted a piece on links between an epileptic medicine and a number of pregnant women giving birth to severely autistic children. Ridge had to remind himself that there was no more Doomwatch to launch an investigation.
Glancing out of habit at the waitress’s derriere he decided to go and do a little shopping. There was much to do.

THE END

S2E06 - STATU PUPILLARI by GRANT FOXON

2010-12-28T06:58:00.000-08:00

“A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything”.

Nietzsche

Adam Quist had been keeping a low profile. He was drinking again and finding little solace in it. He had wanted to visit Eve in hospital and had trekked there but couldn’t face her. He couldn’t begin to be the man he was becoming with Doomwatch. The fact that department no longer existed made the pain slightly easier. Adam had made a conscious decision to drink himself into oblivion.

Carly considered killing Adam Quist. But he would prove a better weapon alive. He had fallen back into drink and general apathy. To kill him would be to make a martyr out of him. As he was he was a greater tool. A new member to the L.C.F had impressed Carly. James his name was. He was lost dispossessed and full of rage and hate. He didn’t really believe in the L.C.F’s doctrine but he hated the establishment so very much that this alone was enough to warrant his trust and usage.
A more determined and ruthless Carly was working on the endgame that could still bring the L.C.F their victory. Recently she had become all too aware that she needed a new successor else the L.C.F as a genuine force of eco-terrorism would no doubt breakdown and cease. In James she saw a possibility. The eyes burned with a fire deep within. Some psychological inferno that made him unable to rest and kept the mind working. The same qualities she knew in Clive Sellers and he said he saw in her.
Carly repeated the Maoist teaching that lay at the epicentre of the L.C.F cause. In order to get rid of the gun, we must take up the gun. In war especially revolutionary war risks had to be taken. This fundamental ethos was hard for many L.C.F supporters to accept. However she sensed James not only accepted but revelled in the concept. With some discipline and learning Carly knew he had what it would take. But first he must be tested.

HAVANA. CUBA.

The hired car was not air-conditioned. Robert Hainwright was sweating a lot. However his esteemed colleague Mr Lartner didn’t seemed to sweat at all. Robert first learned of Mr Lartner when he was in the US recently as one of the leading figures behind the right wing insurgent faction known at the tea party. In fact he was the only person he’d seen in Cuba so far who was fine. Robert knew there was much to be learned from a master strategist and capitalist like Lartner. As they drove past the Plaza de la Revolucion Robert was distracted by the huge painting on the wall of the impressive building of Castro and Che Guevara. The Communist equivalent of a cathedral he noted. They had arrived in Cuba quietly on a private chartered flight. Robert knew that it was because of the legality (or lack of) of their mission that they were keeping a low profile.

Half an hour later Robert and Lartner and checked into their hotel. Sitting down in front of their coffees the two men exchanged glances.

“What do you know of Cuba’s economy Robert?” Lartner asked slowly.
“Well, I know its main export is sugar and that in recent years tourism has became their main source of external revenue”.
“Yes although that was more necessity than anything. When Communist Russia folded its effect on Cuba was immense. With the US still putting atrade embargo on Cuba Russia was her main trading partner. 70% of Cuba’sexports were brought by the Russians and in return they received oil cheap. Like you said that all changed when Soviet Russia folded. They also lost the cheap oil. And now the workers are smiling and everything seems pleasant. Of course the state is still tight but the people are only suppressed by the knowledge which is at the back of their mind”.

Robert nodded in acknowledgement as he savoured his coffee. The taste was indeed extraordinary.

“So what are we doing here?” Robert asked.
“Do you realise the real purpose for humanity. The real goal in life? The general aspect of life is not hunger and distress but really wealth and luxury. I imagine you enjoy wealth and luxury Robert?”
“Of course”. Robert did not have to think long about his own reply.

Lartner smiled.

“We’re here to sell them something incredibly important and priceless that they need”.
Robert nodded.
“So what are we selling them?”
“I haven’t decided yet. What we sell them is quite immaterial. All that reallymatters is how we market it”.

Robert was shocked by Lartner’s casual remark.
“You mean we have nothing to sell?” He asked worried.
“No you misunderstood me. We have plenty to sell just no actual product. We sell the talk. Do you know Cuba has an NHS that rivals good old dead blighty?”

Adam hadn’t considered suicide. It wasn’t that he still held value in his existence; it’s just that it required too much effort. He was happy to just drink and slip into a null.
He was mixing various spirits as his guts hardened to whisky. He imagined and probably secretly hoped that death was round the corner. He was secretly saddened further by new visits from his ex Doomwatch allies. He was certain Ridge would have visited by now. Although Ridge had felt his own guilt by allowing Paul Grover his revenge.
Miranda had tried to rouse Adam from his own lethargy but it seemed even she had given up. Perhaps it was for the best? Adam for the first time in days pulled back his living room curtain almost blinded by the tsunami of sunlight. His eyes closed automatically as he pulled himself back both physically and metaphorically into the darkness.

HAVANA. CUBA.

The recent discovery that Lartner was here in Cuba to meet some powerful men to sell them absolutely nothing was worrying for Robert to say the least. However since becoming an investor/protégée to the enigmatic Mr Lartner Robert had learned that he was a brilliant businessman, which made the trip to a still communist regime to sell something important all the more mysterious, fascinating and very dangerous.
Following coffee and checking into the very expensive hotel (which Robert had the pleasure of paying for). It was time to discuss strategy. With the growing economic crisis how should they market whatever rhetoric they were going to try and sell?
“We need to understand the regime’s zeitgeist and mentality and its needs to survive to understand what it is they need the most. In recent years certain ex KGB and GRU files have been sold off to the highest bidder. Other files just disappeared and were sold on privately including certain documents on Cuba. Would you believe they even had a file on Doomwatch?” Mr Lartner
announced loftily.
“I take it you acquired said documents?”
Instead of a verbal answer Lartner smiled sardonically.

“I see”. Robert answered his own question.
“You see Robert it is myth to think that no money is too be made in a recession. In fact quite the contrary like wartime you just need to knowwhat to sell and who the buyers are. The basic laws of economics will do the rest”.

Robert knew that Lartner was far too canny to have come here without a plan. If Lartner’s promises were true as well as making very important political contacts they were going to fly out of Cuba a lot richer men.
No mistakes. Everything planned perfectly. Robert thought wryly.

“What do you know phenomenology Robert?”
Robert awkwardly rubbed his head.
“Nothing I’m a businessman”.

Lartner tutted in distaste.
“A good businessman should increase his knowledge. Allow me to increase yours. Phenomenology is a sociological theory that states that “things” have no value until we social actors create that meaning. You see we set the value of the sale. A good businessman should learn much even if it mostly garbage and can’t be proved. After all aren’t all religions filed with inconsistencies and little evidence if any? Remember they want to buy before we even begin we have the upper hand. Comprehende?”

Robert really had to admire Lartner’s nerves and sheer Machiavellian qualities. He wondered if there was any limit to his abilities. Or his knowledge?

“Then of course symbolic interactionism. Another sociological theory that can be put too good use. I prefer my own version. Symbiotic interactionism”.

Robert wondered if Lartner wasn’t now talking on and on for his own ego.

Destined to darkness Adam Quist flicked through an old battered copy of the bible. Why he kept such a book was a mystery. He never really had faith in an omnipotent being that was all knowing, all loving and all-powerful. Yet even in his youth when he fell under the spell of Marxism he still felt some form of spirituality to the old book. Even now trapped in his won despair he flicked through the dusty pages unsure what he was expecting from within.
He wanted to grasp the malaise that was forcing the depression on him, but he was powerless. Situations like these meant he had to drink. Without that pressure valve he would surely be dead. In times of depression how could he cope with his own demons clawing at his flesh and mind without the drink?

Ridge too had felt the shame and guilt. Everything was going reasonably well. Doomwatch was once again a force for good in this world where morality seemed to die more every day. And then the L.C.F had played their ace. Their office blown up, poor Paul Grover lost his partner and unborn child. It had all turned to shit.
Ridge hadn’t the nerve to face Adam. He arrived in his village but couldn’t go through with it. The surface memories still they’re too painful. Instead he always changed and deviated away. He imagined the torrent of emotion and alcoholism that now engulfed Adam but still…there was a force something that held back.

Carly had decided on how James would best prove his loyalty. The target was David Hollins. A former MP and leading ecologist. He was seen by Carly as a traitor. His schemes were whitewash as was his ecological beliefs. He had lied and offered little resistance to various new nuclear energy power stations to be constructed to supply the UK with nuclear power. For these acts she had sentenced him to death.

HAVANA. CUBA.

Robert couldn’t believe it. Somehow Lartner had indeed defied logic and adversity and had sold nothing to the Cuban Tourism Bureau for 13.7 million dollars. It was an astounding feat of capitalist engineering. There was no doubt in Robert’s mind that Lartner was a genius.

“This is mere pocket money. You haven’t seen anything yet”. Lartner replied grinning casually.

The assassination was planned carefully. Carly needed to strengthen the L.C.F reputation. She was all too aware of external factors of chance that could impair the plan. James would be despatched to the home of David Hollins and when he leaves in the morning for his next game of golf James will shoot him with an untraceable clone gun and then drop the weapon and make for three streets away where he will climb into a transit van where a chance of clothes will await him. He’ll then get changed into dirty overalls and arrive at a L.C.F safe house. James seemed excited by the mission.

Ridge decided he needed to offer some salvation to Adam. Doomwatch might no longer exist but they still had a cause to fight. The government would still need the ecological factors and threats addressed and then there were other malevolent factors still out there like the L.C.F or the strange Mr Lartner.
Ridge parked outside the cottage so Adam would know it was him. He wasn’t sure if he would get an answer. The slowly Adam opened the door. The two men looked at one another.

“You’d better come in”. Adam muttered as he led the way in. Ridge followed solemnly.

The two exchanged little words. They both recognised the agony in each other’s eyes and Adam embraced Ridge and tried instead of holding his pain in for once he cried.
Ridge also was man not known for his public affection. But he embraced with equal power and wished he had visited sooner. After a moment he pulled away.
“Right now before we end up looking like a pair of rear gunners do you have any coffee?”

Adam laughed. A real laugh not some fake display of emotion. Perhaps he wondered there was a way to avoid being swallowed by the darkness?

HAVANA. CUBA.

Robert was in true awe now of Lartner. Why this man wasn’t ruling the world he genuinely did not know. But Lartner had informed him that they were going to make a killing at their next destination a medical research plant located at Santana Cruz. Packing up their bags Lartner had disappeared to arrange transport to their destination.

Ridge joined Adam in a drink. Although he noted that Adam drank only a small amount of whisky compared to his own cup that seemed to be nearly overflowing. They talked a little but did indeed communicate a great deal. Adam had finally reached the end. He was emotionally drained and had crashed to his lowest point. Ridge knew it was now that Adam could perhaps be saved.
“So…what now Adam. Are you going to kill yourself or perhaps we can workon a solution?” Ridge asked plainly.

Adam hadn’t touched his drink. He merely toyed with it.
“I want…I need to stop…this”. Adam threw his glass across the room it smashed as it hit the wall.

Ridge smiled as he believed this was far more than some empty symbolist gesture.

“Can you get me some help arranged? Rehab or whatever works”. Adam asked quietly.

Ridge felt a sense of pride in Adam.
“Don’t worry we can solve this. Welcome back Adam Quist”.

Ridge smiled.

SANTANA CRUZ. CUBA.

The institute was heavily guarded but indeed impressive. Lartner caught Robert looking gob smacked at the facility.
“Far better than anything the UK or US have to offer”. Lartner casually remarked. He then noticed that Robert seemed even more impressed by this.

As they entered the complex a thought crossed Robert’s mind. The strange ease in which the officials in the complex were around Lartner. A rotund and short man with a heavyset aura by the name of Manuel smiled enormously as he approached Lartner and shook hands sincerely.

“Lartner welcome! And this is Robert? Welcome!”

Robert noted the histrionics used in Manuel’s welcoming as he greeted them.

“I have much to show you! Please come with me!”

A short tour followed and Robert had to admit it was indeed very impressive. It was then that they entered a form of advanced hospital ward. Various patients were sitting around reading when a familiar figure crossed Robert’s path. He couldn’t believe it was his cousin.

“Hello Robert”. Smiled his cousin Sarah.
“Sarah…what the hell are you doing here?” Robert began to worry that his and Lartner’s cover was blown.
“Sarah is here receiving treatment. I don’t know if you are aware but her liveris beyond repair due to Hepatitis B”.

Robert nodded he was only to aware that she needed a donation and was on the list.
“Even with money back at home there is still a waiting list. And if I don’t get one soon I’ll be dead Robert”.

Robert suddenly felt his blood turn to ice and clot his veins.

“I told you there was one last deal to be made Robert”.

As Robert spun around he saw guards slowly move in closer. He felt like a wounded animal surrounded by a pack of carnivores.

“No…you bastard”. Said Robert.

Lartner could no longer suppress a grin.

“Come now Robert you of all people should be able to appreciate that this is only business”.

Robert tried to run but the guards were on. Then quickly and quietly a hypodermic syringe was placed in his arm and he blacked out.

Sarah turned to Mr Lartner.

“Thank you…boss”.

Mr Lartner smiled back and he embraced his apprentice.

James waited with eager anticipation for his quarry. Right on time as planned he appeared. James gripped the cold mortal gun in his hand then jumped out. Shock and confusion stormed over David Hollins face. James matched it with a grin as he shot David in the chest. David’s body flew back as James fired twice more into David’s head. Then he ran.

As the blood poured from the corpse and soaked in the ground you couldn’t help but wonder how much more before the conflict was over….

THE END

S2E05 - SEE NO EVIL by GERRY FOBON

2010-12-28T06:16:00.000-08:00

“Never join any club that would accept you as a member”.
Groucho Marx

The summer sky was only beginning to melt into a pink supernova as Kofi walked down the street on his way home from work. He was happy although he didn’t know why and he began to whistle it was then he heard a noise. At first he thought he heard a muffled scream then he dismissed it. Then he thought he heard scuffling. Kofi slowly crept closer to where the sound was emanating from. It was a deserted alleyway. He then saw two figures fighting. Well in reality he saw one but knew two were fighting.
Slowly he crept closer until to his shock and amazement it was only man fighting some invisible demonic force. He had heard story as a boy of voodoo and possession and thought he was witnessing it. Then the true horror of the bizarre sight appeared as a blade appeared out of nowhere and by some evil force plunged itself deep into the mans neck. He fell back in shock a moment then with skill the blade re-entered the man and in moments he was dead. Kofi wanted to run shouting but found fear had robbed him of this reaction….

Timmons sat alone in the office thinking. His mind was full of self-doubt and confusion. He had no idea why he had been called to the meeting but suspected it was an official debriefing from Doomwatch. He had read in the paper only this morning how the government were delighted in announcing the list of quangos for the chop and among them was Doomwatch. Seeing it there in print brought a sadness and tangibility to the end. He just wished it could have gone better. After all the L.C.F were still out there.

Timmons was escorted into the head office where immediately he detected the cautious air that was fermenting in the room. Timmons sat at the desk the elderly “old school” minister sat opposite a very grave look on his face. Timmons immediately thought of the L.C.F.

“It seems you had some success in dealing with difficult situations in your time as a liason with Doomwatch?”
Timmons was unsure as to whether this was a statement or a question. He decided to reply.
“Yes sir”. Timmons began to hope that perhaps there could be some hope of a return of Doomwatch. But these thoughts were quickly dashed.
“We have a problem. Which potentially could become a crisis if left unchequed it is also extremely confidential”.
“I have signed the official secrets act sir”. Timmons replied.
“Yes of course Timmons. Well we have a problem”.

Before continuing the minister rubbed his troubled brow and took a sip of water.
“Oh sorry I forgot to ask would you like some water?”
“No sir. Thank you”.
The minister nodded.
“Well Timmons. We have a problem, for many years research secret funding has gone into new forms of camouflage”.
“Camouflage sir?”
“Yes, with some limited success until recently when it seemed that we had indeed got somewhere with the prototype. We have perfected a form of… invisibility”.
Timmons could not believe what he was hearing.
“Invisibility? Really?”
“I can’t explain the science to you other than it’s a special armour with a skinwoven into it. It has tiny microscopic solar panels that power the suit. However because of its dependency on solar power the wearer is only invisible during light hours”.
“What’s the problem then sir?”
“Three days ago Captain Elliot Prendick who was on manoeuvres in the suit disappeared literally. We haven’t located him since”.
“Do you think something happened to him?”

The minister paused before continuing.
“The suit is codexed and linked with the wearers brain. It’s almost a symbiotic relationship but that way the wearer controls the skin of the suit like his own flesh. However it seems that recent CT scans of his brain taken before he disappeared show problems. In particular the temporal lobes which were being damaged by the suit”.
“So he’s not thinking straight?”
“An under statement we have an experienced killer walking around in a billion dollar weapon. If we don’t find him soon then he’ll probably die. However we have no idea what he’s thinking or why. He has no partner or child. He can’t turn to his family as he recently came out and they seemingly broke off contact. We have them under surveillance in case he’s planning something but I think that’s unlikely. I would like you to assist us Timmons. Especially as due to the cut backs the suit is too be abandoned for the moment solely by us but expected to be continued with the Americans. They wont be too happy with us if we lost our invisible man and somebody else discovers him or the technology”.
Timmons leaned back taking in the enormousness of the mission.
“Where do I start sir?”

Elliot sat alone under a tree. The weather was cool and it would soon begin to rain. He was invisible. He could no longer control his visibility, as that part of the brain was no longer open to him. The neurons had been corrupted and the cells damaged. He was no longer a human. He now knew that he was doomed. He could feel that he could no longer be separated from the suit. They were one; he was therefore a dangerous liability that would need to be captured. He was on borrowed time as he could feel his migraines were a precursor to something far worse. Death was coming and he knew that the form of brain psychosis that it would bring would not be a pleasant death. He wondered if he would go insane? Or was he already quite mad? He had killed a stranger in an unprovoked attack when for no reason he was consumed by the most vile and loud rage that he had ever known. What would happen next?
He wondered as he looked up what Newton must have been thinking when he was distracted by the discovery of gravity.

Timmons had been given a copy of Elliot Prendick’s profile report. He was forty-three and had served tours in Northern Ireland and the 1991 Gulf War. He was well liked and respected. It seemed that him coming out cost him little if anything in respect by his men and comrades. The army certainly didn’t seem put off by the revelation when afterwards he was short listed for the invisibility programme. Timmons noted that he had been told as little as possible about the science behind it as it was still a massive secret. However he had hoped that it had been deemed a failure and therefore would be abandoned. A standard soldier’s mind was not compatible. However perhaps a terrorist or fanatic would be better to join with such a cadaver?

Elliot sat motionless he wondered as he was no longer visible whether he was still even alive? He could see no reflection and when he felt the artificial skin that now covered his body he could not see it. Blindness would be easier he supposed. He was pointless. He was determined not to hand himself in and then he would get the rage. In the suit sex was out of the question. Indeed although a soldier is meant to be disciplined the idea would be if the suit was mass-produced the soldier would take bromide purely as an additional precaution. Although the suit itself made sexual intercourse very difficult.
Elliot wondered whom they would use to lead the hunt against him. Perhaps they may meet and one of them may die? Elliot wondered if it was merely pride that wanted to kill the opponent rather than a strong sense of self-preservation. The operation would indeed be well thought out and for that reason he knew it would not be anyone he knew or was aware of. Perhaps someone from MI6 or MI5 an experienced spy would be his opponent. Elliot wished them luck, they would need it.

Timmons wondered what was going through Elliot’s mind. There must have been a reason why he went awol. His profile would suggest against defection for monetary or political reasons. He was a well-respected soldier. Therefore it seemed most likely that he reasoning was because he was not himself. The CT scan showed more damage than the minister had let on. He would no doubt be having problems emotionally and relating to others. Would he kill? Would he be paranoid that would explain his actions? More importantly what was he now capable of?

Invisibility? Does it necessary mean null existence? Elliot wondered dream like. Inertia is a mighty force that is not visible and yet its power holds everything else in balance. But then a force like inertia is hardly sentient. I am. I am a living ghost not even a husk to mask my painful lack of apparent existence. Elliot could feel his human emotions drain away. If he was capable of piercing his armour and thus make himself bleed he could just to prove his own oblique existence. But he could not. Therefore someone else had to bleed for him.

The investigation had turned static. The main problem was the high secrecy of the actual invisibility suit. Timmons had an idea of the kind of profile of Elliot but without knowledge of the suit he could only guess at the pathology involved. The various military people involved were highly dubious of Timmons and he felt their uneasy gaze burning through him whenever they were around.
The secret to cracking Elliot’s psychology was his motive for going awol. What could make a distinguished officer of his class chosen because of his distinction go awol with a priceless armour that allows his daylight invisibility? Could the factor of his apparent new ghost like abilities sent him over the edge? Had he been hiding his breakdown extremely well? He kept his private life just that so could a lover or a friend have recently died? Or maybe the truth was because he could?

Late in the day Timmons had been alerted to the brutal stabbing of a man in an alleyway. The entry wounds were ferocious and the killer strong and certainly by the entry wounds the killer would be Elliot’s height. The entry points were also similar to trained marine methods. A witnessed shocked said that a ghost killed the man. If it was Elliot why was he attacking civilians? Was he going insane?

Elliot searched for his quarry before settling on a young male but feminine featured thin student who caught his eye. Elliot could feel himself be turned on by the sight of him. The idea of being a true voyeur and the prey not knowing he was there brought an added level of excitement to the chase. When Elliot had captured the prey the only thing that would separate the two entities would be pain.

The boy came round and wished he hadn’t. He had lost consciousness but he had no idea how other than the sharp pain in his head. He tried to recall his recent memory but nothing offered itself to him as an explanation. Then he looked around. He was in some form of dilapidated building tied to a broken workbench.
“Hello”. A disembodied voice said.
The boy scanned the room then in the darkness saw the vague outline of a well built man.
“Where am I?” he screamed in terror.
“I don’t get any pleasure from this. Neither am I bothered or scared. Truth is I just want to feel. And by opening you, a young sexy lad early twenties I hope to shock myself. Perhaps into some effective suicide. Or maybe surrender. I’m not a debased person by nature”.

The boy was confused by the incoherent ramblings of the mad silhouette.
“Please…let me out!”
“Can’t you see I’m busy dying”.

Then the pain started. Forty-three minutes later the boy was dead. And Elliot felt a pang of extreme sickness at his actions but then is disappeared. Anaesthetised by his newfound form. A ghost.

Time was ticking, when you’re chasing an invisible man trained by special forces who seems to have suffered a psychotic breakdown then time is all the more important. The forensic report from the crime scene stated that despite the wounds there was a lot of blood missing. It wasn’t in the vicinity either. It seemed that Elliot took some of the dead mans blood?
The rest of the high ranking military refused to accept that the man they chose to be in charge of very high value tech could have some form of hematomania.
“We still don’t know if this death was caused by him!” Barked Elliot’s CO. Timmons noted how they had stopped referring to Elliot by name and were subconsciously dehumanising him.
“Look the witness seems pretty certain as are we with his believing since we used soap (sodium pentahol) on him, with what he saw. The MO fits with the invisibility I think we should assume that Elliot killed that man”. Timmons offered strongly.
“So he’s gone crazy? Or has he defected?”
“Who to?”
“I’m sure the yanks would like the technology without having to share it with us awkward limeys?” The official offered.
Timmons was surprised by the almost schoolboy mentally these officials had.
“I don’t believe he’s defected. He’s loyal which is why you choose him. It could be a breakdown that happened to occur along side this. His Personnel profile doesn’t show a particularly happy bunny with a good life”,

The dead boy was buried in a hurry by Elliot who felt nausea and sombreness fall on him like rain. Elliot was almost a religious man, of course he could never truly become a religious man because of his sexuality, and he had too much respect for an ancient custom like the church to compromise its doctrine for his own sake and so he felt only a rough sometimes cold co-existence with it. But he felt the boy needed a proper burial. After all it was not the boy’s fault he died. He died because Elliot now had the power to do it. No man should have the power of invisibility. We’ve done enough harm, as it is if we become invisible we’ll kill each other in a few decades. The floodgates would open to new levels of slaughter. That’s even before the terrorist cells get hold of the gear. No this power was making him into the character he had become. And with it his lack of emotion and feeling. He wanted to remove the armour but the lure of the greatness he now possessed was too great. He had been corrupted. He could not turn back. He knew that they would keep him prisoner forever or kill him. He didn’t want to live anyway but that didn’t mean Elliot was going to make it easy for them.

The phone call was received at 13:27. The call was easily chased to a phone box in the centre of Leeds. In fact the phone booth could be observed by multiple CCTV cameras. This was perhaps why Elliot chose it. He was toying with them. The message was simple.

TRANSCRIPT PHONE CALL RECEIVED 13:27 TO CHQC

OP: Hello?
EP: Hello there. It’s me Elliot Pendrick the invisible man. I believe there looking for me?
OP (Nervously): Please stay on the line sir.
EP: Don’t worry I will. I’ve killed. I don’t know if you know but I have. I’m calling because I don’t intend to give myself up. You have created a monster, this suit is too much. I was never a narcissist, but I have become all-powerful. Abandon this technology…please.
OP: Sir, someone’s here you should speak with.
EP: I don’t want to speak with them! You will do. Listen too me you need to know about the suit. It’s invisible it was meant for camouflage but without the cognitive recognition we get from sight…we lose our humanity….please they have to stop this….please!
OP: Sir? Sir?

(At this point Elliot appears to have left the phone booth but kept the phone of the hook presumably with the knowledge that we will be able to trace the call).

Timmons suspicions were being confirmed. There was no longer any doubts that Elliot’s sanity or that he would hand himself in. Preparations for a manhunt with a KILL IMPERATIVE now was the only course of action and quick before the public got hold of the information.

“The operative who took the call can she be trusted?” Timmons asked.
“Were speaking with her now she wont surrender any information”. Came the cold reply. Timmons felt that people were meant to draw their own conclusions from his chillingly ambiguous phrasing of words.

Elliot smiled. At least it felt like a smile now he wasn’t so sure. The lines between mere thoughts and physical actions were no longer there. When he dreamed could that be reality? Strange he no longer really believed in such a concept as reality.
He now needed to abuse to feel an emotive response. As the endgame was approaching Elliot was making plans.

“I think he want to be caught”. Timmons offered.
“Well he could have made it a damn sight easier”. A C/O offered.
“He’s a highly trained professional. I don’t think it’s in his remit to make it easy for anyone”.
“So we wait till he kills again and again hoping to catch him….” Came a pessimistic reply.

Timmons sighed inwards.
“Look gentlemen I think he may well ring GCHQ again and with a highly trained negotiator there we can begin to get too him. Meanwhile if we begin to search Leeds. If he is playing with us I’m sure he’d still be there. He’s visible at night and hardly conspicuous. So lets check out forest areas and disused buildings. Probably start with the outskirts of the city centre”.

This met with a more positive grumble.
“Very well Timmons lets try it your way”.

Blood. The lifeforce of the human condition. The one thing that grounds us in our world more than any other. To see blood pour out of another human being is a fascinating sight. Nothing stirs us more than such a macabre and natural sight as blood. It was in this that Elliot was finding his last refuge.
It was time to make the call.

Charles Gordon, a tall morose looking man was the negotiator hand picked by the department. Timmons thought it was just as well he was only a voice on a phone because to see him in person was enough to drive any man to suicide.
When introduced Timmons noted how Charles grunted unhappily.

“Is he expected to call soon?” Charles asked seemingly annoyed.
“We think he’ll be calling soon as it seems to be his next move”. The CO replied.
“You think? Have you got his personal file there?” Charles asked.
“Yes here”.

Timmons handed over the file to Charles. Charles grunted a thank you and then began to skim through the file thoroughly.

“He seems to have an almost ideal record. Very punctual, hard working and highly intelligent. I can see why he was hand picked for such a mission”.
“You said almost ideal?” Timmons asked.
“Yes, he’s gay I see”.
Timmons couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Oh come on what does that have to do with it?”
“Quite a lot from a psychological perspective. I gather it caused problems with his family? Even the most hardened experts crack. Perhaps his own idea of himself and what a good soldier is was contrast to his gender. He was also a religious man. That to would create a mental rift, when a person’s id, ego and superego are in conflict then depression is inevitable. Whether you were aware of not a reasonable psychologist would have known this. I take it one wasn’t consulted?”

The various military personnel present exchanged awkward bashful glances.
“Right…we know best mentality well may I be the one to pop that little bubble?” Charles asked sarcastically.
“Steady on. If this hadn’t happened you’d be out of a job mate”. One military snapped.
“Not quite as the civilian world is meant to be different from you hardened professionals in the theatre of war”.
“This squabble isn’t really getting any of us anywhere is it?” Timmons offered.

It was then that the phone call came through. A over excited operative brought the phone to Charles. On the other end was Elliot.

“Hello, Elliot my name is….”
“I don’t care you’re a negotiator so listen to me. I’m tired and hungry. I don’t think I’m well meet me at grid reference oblique 494 delta k”.
With that Elliot hung up.

“Can we get a lock on the source?”
“No sir he was only on for 49 seconds”.
Charles braced his teeth in annoyance.
“Check the reference out”.

Triangulating on a local map of Leeds a couple worked out the reference point.

“It’s an old barn just the right location”.
“We should still be careful though”. Timmons offered.

Charles glared at him as if to silence him. It almost worked.
“I think your role here is at an end Mr Timmons”.

With that Charles walked out of the room with his head held high. Timmons felt like hitting him.

As the teams gathered together and left the barn Timmons couldn’t help but feel amiss. Something somewhere wasn’t right. Why after this game of murderous cat and mouse would Elliot suddenly change the rules? Charles seemed to have figured Elliot out but had fallen prey to his own superiority complex and assumed he could outplay Elliot.
The assembled teams quickly approached the old barn. Specialist squat teams and Charles ready as anyone can be. Still in darkness Elliot would be a visible target. Timmons held back as they stormed the barn. Then he became aware of a loud explosion. Shocked Timmons ran towards the barn. A wall had been blown away. Some of the squat teams had fled the damaged cottage. Others were killed, among the dead was Charles.

“What the hell….” Timmons muttered to himself.

20 minutes later and all were clear. A makeshift nail bomb. Easily assembled out of various household products sugar, bleach etc… In the closed tight building a nail bomb was even more lethal. Elliot had more blood on his hands. Timmons wondered if he was smiling right now?

He was, but not through his own accomplishment but through the blood that he spilt. They made the bad call, they didn’t think twice as too the trap which in hindsight was very obvious indeed. They stumbled like fools and got burned. Next time they would not be making the same mistake. But next time Elliot knew he would die.

The debriefing was short and sombre. Charles had screwed up and it cost his and four other people their lives and wounded 12 others. Inside mobile headquarters the situation they were not in was being explained. Timmons began to wish he never took on the mission to begin with.

As everyone left the vehicle all Timmons could now think of was sleep. Everyone returned to base a stupid wasted opportunity. Elliot now had the upper hand and there was little they could do but hope that the mad man would somehow come in from the cold.

Timmons arrived at his current residence during the ops. As he lay on the bed with the bedroom light on he looked at the empty room and wondered for a moment when the precise moment as a human he lost his own innocence?
It was then that Timmons heard the voice.

“Boo”.

Timmons shot up instantly knowing Elliot was somewhere in the room.
“You seem scared?” Elliot asked.
“Elliot? How did you know…”
“Common sense mostly. It seems the military really have screwed this one up. Are you a spook?”
“No”. Timmons replied trying desperately to suppress his own fear.
“I didn’t think so. I can taste your fear. It seems you were my real adversary in this strange misadventure. The need to synthesise is a strange feeling. There here Timmons their here”.

An invisible grin appeared upon Elliot’s face.
“How do you know my name?” Timmons asked as the doors to his bedroom and heavily armed troops opened fire blindly. Blood appeared out of nowhere as Elliot was cut down by the immense gunfire. The shooting was so powerful that Timmons temporarily lost his hearing. He realised he had been used.

The minister entered the room.

“It seems you did good after all Timmons”.

The official debrief was the following day. The minister reminded Timmons he wasn’t to repeat any of what transpired. Timmons didn’t care. He had seen enough bloodshed. He hoped to forget this recent unfortunate event but knew that his mind was forever tarnished with the unforgettable memory.

THE END

S2E04 - EKKLESIS by GRANT FOXON

2010-12-28T04:57:00.000-08:00

“The suburbs dream of violence. Asleep in their drowsy villas, sheltered by benevolent shopping malls, they wait patiently for the nightmares that will wake them into a more passionate world”.

JG BALLARD Kingdom Come

1. The Simple Passions

MILTON KEYNES SHOPPING CENTRE.

The shopping centre was immense. It was a bright colourful object huge in stature like the churches of old which demand your time and money. You must pay the tithes and within you can glance the golden kingdom of Heaven, or ignore and feel the isolation and deprecation of Hell.
James Daniels felt he was the only one who could see the truth. Or perhaps he was the only one that wasn’t affected by the awe of the shopping centre. Mass consumerism was everywhere, it’s spread and power was like that of the German army in the 1930’s. It had taken over and invaded as much of the globe as it could. This shopping centre was one such church established to its sickening, self-congratulating worship. Just as in North Korea the cities were designed to contain tall buildings to suppress the individuality of the people in shopping centres the exact same act was present.
The economy must keep going, spend, spend, spend. There we have it a justification for our insatiable greed and wanting. We can have our cake and eat it. We can all grow fat and pay it off and become in debt for our lives. A credit rating might as well be as important as a health check up these days. James thought as he walked up and down the shopping centre watching people on their own and in families looking sad and depressed carrying bags and bags of shopping. So called luxuries which they did not want or need but brought anyway a slave to the mall. Why could they not see? James wondered.
So they were here to stay. People would continue to feed them. The behemoths were spreading all over the UK like a disease. Consumerism to a degree is a result of capitalist society. But greed never allows consumerism to stop at a point is grows and grows. It breeds and people’s instant gratification gets replaced by long, unrelenting tears of the years. George Orwell commented on the future of the human race being like a boot stamping on peoples faces. The consumerism future is similar. People forcing themselves into suppression and slavery by their greed and desperate unhappiness and fragile emotions. James wanted to scream but there was no one to listen they had all become voluntarily deaf. The scream would only be watched by the intrusive cctv cameras located all throughout like antibodies watching out for those curious hostile entities that are not buying. Surely the denizens of the mall can have no real grasp of sanity?

The L.C.F were losing their power. People were caring less about their golden cause. The global recession had became more of a hindrance that a benefit. Various governments now had their security forces turning against them. What is worse is they had helped change a man into more than a man. A complex link between man and machine. An intranet of the human psyche and the artificial. He was going to help them to spread the word. But he resented what they had done. He no longer wanted to help them. He had recently created a hoax to throw them off and to say he was independent. But he was weak. If he were to challenge them he would need time. Time to regroup and plan. He had already gone into hiding. He knew he could leave Carly (the L.C.F leader) alone for long enough and her own quadrophenia nature would lead to purges and the destruction of the L.C.F in an inferno of paranoia. He knew they were declining as he could secretly access their records. Less people were talking on the Internet and they were recruiting a lot less. It looked as if the L.C.F might be dead in the water. But he must destroy them once and for all. With fanatics you can’t take risks. Then there were those leaving the flock because they had found religion. The extreme left in Carly found this personally sickening. To think those willing to follow her would defect to such arrogant double standards that religion offered. But the worst were those that just returned to the mundane existence of consumerism. Pulled right back into the cheap distasteful worlds that they so wished to escape. The truth the L.C.F were trying to create seemed once again to be replaced by the continual mass-produced dystopia that was modern life. Carly was approaching an endgame, the L.C.F recently carefully planned bombings and their new knowledge had achieved little in regard to publicity. Ass worried and as scared as the media tried to make people with every major city currently on high level terrorist warnings from various groups not just the L.C.F people still flocked to shopping centres in their droves spending money they can’t afford. Hopeless junkies looking for commercial hits of quick fixes to make them feel more alive. As the television tells us subliminally we only really exist if we consume. A monstrous message of gluttonous hypnosis. She knew a new offensive had to be planned soon and a new campaign to attract new members.
The L.C.F were a strong unit but in decline. They had based their views and ability to entice new members on their own knowledge and beliefs, which exist at the core of all human beings. Clive Sellers views on humanity were formed when he wrote his thesis on the subject when he created the L.C.F. Using Fraud’s own basic theories established in his later writings which state that mankind is not driven by basic biological drives to eat and reproduce but passionate drives to create and to destroy. It is these passions which supply the human enthusiasm for life and without this enthusiasm then self destruction is the only alternative. Now Clive had much hatred for mankind and found these governing passions quite abhorrent. However he was no fool and recognised a fundamental truth that all human beings when stripped down to their most basic form are either creators or destroyers. Clive himself knew he was deep down a destroyer. Although he valued the planet and cared for its other life he never the less had killed many, many people and would continue to do so if it brought the L.C.F closer to realising their own dreams. He also feared about the human species constant drive towards lusting for the mechanical and the dead. In short technology fusing with man would create a more emotionally detached and dead society where lusting for cold inhuman and unalive machines could only be described as necrophilia. Clive knew that the species must break free of the capitalistic chains that domesticated it and lead to acts of sadism not just to it’s own kind but other species. He cited the human race’s greed above all other reasons for it’s inevitable destruction. In some ways the human race is the most frail and helpless of all species on the planet. He had rudimentary reactions and urges biological urges but all other actions are governed by intellectualism and making the correct choices. This is problematic because of our greed and corruptiveness. Therefore we make bad decisions and keep making them and atrocities are to be expected regularly. It was only by resetting humans with nature and eliminating capitalist tendencies Clive theorised that we could indeed lose are artificial insecurities and be a force for good on Earth. It was these ideas that lead to his plan to release Variant 14 the plastic eating virus on mass around the planet to aid in him eliminating society, as we know it. A goal very much believed by Carly his successor as ultimately the L.C.F plan. Human beings lack instinctive determination and having a brain that allows them to think in various directions need a source of total devotion. Most importantly he believed that deep down all humanity harboured a neurophysiolgical desire to return the nature just as a new born child desires to return to the sanctity of the womb.

James eyes were hurting. He suffered from porphyria, which caused a sensitvity to light but also dilusions. Of this James was glad because it was only through his own maddness that he could see the degeneration of the human spirit through the crushing weight of consumerism that was all around. People would give James unpleasent looks. This he speculated was not because he was strange looking in fact he was reasonably attractive with a lofty beatnik look. But because he never brought anything. On a subconcious level this was unacceptable to the masses who did not understand or tolerate such a disregard for the shopping centre. Such elements like James were rogue, out of the plan with their own thoughts which did not lean towards shopping. Therefore he was dangerous and slowly without realising it they had begun to hate him. It was then that James felt the pain tear through his body. He felt like he was having a fit and yet in control and then he blanked out.

2. The Complex Passions

Slowly James awoke in a room out back of the shopping complex. Two obese security guards stood awkwardly in the back ground whilst a 30 something milf stood over him.

“How do you feel?” she asked with genuine concern.
“Elh…tired”. Came James lacklustre reply.
“I’m Miranda” she offered her hand and James shook it weakly.
“Are you a doctor?”
“Something like that. We went through your pockets I noticed your medication”.

James was unsure how he felt about this.
“So you think I’m mad”.
“Not at all. It is porphyria you suffer from I take it?”
“Yes. Although I know its everyone else who’s deluded. So if you’re nota doctor then what are you doing here?” James asked forcefully.
“I’m job hunting to be honest with you.My department was recently closed down”.
“So you’re now one of the great mass unemployed?” James asked playfully.

Miranda had already missed her job appointment of which she never really wanted to attend. As bad as Doomwatch was at times she now missed it and was suffering from nostalgia. By helping this stranger she at least felt some positive karma. Together they walked throughout the shopping centre.

“You don’t seem to belong here”. James stated out of leftfield.
“What do you mean?” Miranda asked.
“You’re not shopping”.
Miranda smiled at this but saw there was a seriousness to James comment.
“Not everyone shops”.
“That’s a falicy. People are drawn here like moths to the flame”. James sounded sad.
“Does this place bother you?” Miranda asked.
“If you think I’m paranoid, you’re probably right but I have a point”.
“About this shopping centre?”
“No not just this but all shopping centres. When buying things replace a city or countries culture you have a very sick society indeed. But no one talks about it. It’s the elephant in the room that everyone is addicted to”.

Miranda thought about James words, he was certainly a social outcast and very left wing but there was an uncomfortable if over exagerated truth in his words.

“People like to shop, as long as people are sensible I don’t see a problem”.
James stopped walking.
“People aren’t sensible. They would gladly abuse themselves as much any body else. These places are shrines to corporate control and slavery”.

Miranda laughed.
“Oh come on, look consumerism isn’t a plague”.
“It’s not the consumerism that’s the problem Miranda, but the weakness of human society towards it”.
“You can’t change people James”.
Now James laughed.
“Can’t change people? What do you think these places do to people if not change them?”

That got Miranda thinking.
“Nuclear weapons aren’t needed we have shopping centres. If you announce one day next week the shop will open at midnight people will queue up at 11 at night. Why? Because of the influence these places have. They have propaganda skills that the Khymer Rouge could only have dreamed of. This shopping centre is a tribute to man’s ability to enslave himself. As human kind experience real freedom their capacity for material production grows, but in the process he becomes greedy and egotisical, a slave to the things he creates. I.E the shopping complex”.

James was well versed in his own strange extreme left rhetoric. In theory there were truths in his words but it was too extreme. She decided to try and cut her time short with James. In truth she wanted to look for a new outfit.

“Do you never shop James”.
“I read books. That’s about it”.

Miranda smiled.
“Well if you’re feeling better I think I might go my way”.
“You mean do some shopping?” James asked.
Miranda looked awkward.
“Yes shopping. In this munition hell you call the chopping centre”.
“I think big complex is more accurate”. James said smiling.
“You know your own psychology and philosophy is flawed. You look on all the peoples here enjoying the mall as some how subhuman and you are experiencing a hatred towards them. Your own nihilism therefore is extremely evident”. Miranda replied wishing she hadn’t.

The two exchanged a glance and she walked away. For a moment James was sure she could see the truth. How can I fight this blindness? James wondered.

Carly wondered the same thing. With Doomwatch gone she no longer had a clear nemesis other than time and the attention spans of the average populus. She still had loyal followers but new blood was drying up. At this rate and with various security organisations trying to destroy them the L.C.F might well die. Carly didn’t even have a suitable replacement as her predecessor Clive Sellers had with her. If she was killed then the succsession crisis would surely destroy the L.C.F. But who could she trust as a suitible replacement?

James walked towards the bus station that was located at the far side of the complex. It was then he noticed they had began to pump Saturday Night by Whigfield through the various internal sound systems. He wondered if the other shoppers were so desensitized that they could no longer hear it. Either that or the song was part of the process. He also noticed an early Christmas display being set up in a shop window. He felt sick and walked towards an abandoned shop and then threw up. He wondered if anyone would notice? Or if someone would try to market the vomit as a product?

Miranda felt a pang of guilt. She wondered whether she should have left him alone. The shopping centre seemed to disturb him greatly, and it’s not the most logical or sane comparrison to compare a shopping centre with a nuclear weapon. Maybe he is suffering from dillusions and needs better treatment. Presumably he is taking his medicine else why else would he have them on him? No Miranda decided she wasn’t going to worry. At Doomwatch she spent too much time worrying about situations. She missed the work but not having to sometimes carry her boss when his drinking would get out hand.

3. The Criminal Passions

James felt he had to make a stand. If one man could fight the shopping centre then perhaps in time others would realise the evils within and would make similar stands. He looked at the shop window dummy’s advertising clothes and imagined instead of cheap tacky cloth they were covered in moist dead flesh. Deep down James wanted to smash and break the cult of personality that had been created for the shopping centres, he knew he had pathological problems but the burning hatred that was being generated from within was too strong to be a mere problem. Besides the drugs he was on was to keep an internal balance. No he knew he was right. This was far more than a mere psychotic endogenous depression that had engulfed his mind like a dark tsunami.

The shopping centre was a hive of activity. As they day progressed the numbers maintained high. Miranda took her time going around the stores and slowly but the strange Marxist she had met and helped to the back of her mind. She was instead concentrating on forgetting the dodgy and unpromising future she now had before her. Not since her late uni days had she felt so uncertain as to her future. She knew that Doomwatch the thorn in the government’s side had been removed brilliantly by the deficit and the elimination of many quangos deemed “wasteful”. After a while Miranda decided to head towards a nearby coffee outlet.

Owen Shadwick ran the shopping centre. He was a workaholic with a cheating wife and three very ungrateful children who he wished he never helped create. He was not however a unhappy individual and felt great pride and love for the centre. He sat in his office and was reading the latest reports. He had done his hardest to whether the storm of the recession and was pleased with the results. However he couldn’t relax, he had not got to where he was relaxing. In fact he imagined that come his retirement his mind would allow him to die rather than become inactive. He once argued with his wife because he was working later and later. She could understand if he was having an affair but he genuinely was working later and later. This quasi religious relationship he had with a building she found irritating and embarrising and lead her to sleep with certain members of her husbands family and strangers.
But Owen was troubled. He knew of James and James strange unhealthy hatred for the complex. What was worse was James apparent psychological problems. An attack on the centre would not be tolerated and Owen would push for the highest possible punishment. Owen often wondered how far he would go in pursuit of the beautiful and glorious shopping centre?

James hadn’t left yet. He was meaning to but he couldn’t leave. The place was evil and needed to be destroyed just like the world. His aggression wasn’t burning itself out, it refused to die. Something had to give, that was the centre.
Owen watched James on the cctv loitering with potential malice. He was worried and so he asked the security guards to collect him and bring him up to his office.

When the security guards came for James he smiled and went willingly. The eyes all around were watching him because they saw him as a threat. Not so much for his actions but because he knew the bitter truth. This is what James theorised as he walked willingly.

Inside the office Owen greeted James with a smile and a warm handshake. James resisited. The first thing that James noticed about Owen was the glint in his eye. It was the look of a fanatic who demanded submission.

“Are you feeling better?” Owen asked with very convincing concern.
“No, unfortunately your shiney false shrine does little to anethetise my boredom or contempt. Why am I here?”

Owen smiled confused and then looked at the security guards.
“I was worried about you”. Owen stated factly.
“Worried about me? Or what I might do?”

James reading of the situation had proven to be accurate.
“What do you mean? What would you do?” Owen desperately tried to cover his fear.
“You’re scared because I see through this fakeness. And so will the sheep out there in time”. James stated.
“Listen you crazy moron we’re going to ring for a doctor and get you sectioned back where you belong!” Owen exploded with rage.
“You are a slave! A slave to an ideal, not even a sentient being but a building!” James retaliated.

Owen pushed James to the ground.
“Get a doctor. No wait get the one who saw to him earlier with her as a witness we’ll get this mistake locked up!”

The security guards nodded and left the room. Owen looked down at James with real hatred.
“I tried to be reasonable but you pushed me. Now you’ll pay, you think a puny runt like you can come in here and threaten this establishment!”
“What happened Mr Manager were you abused or something?”

Owen went to punch James in the face but stopped himself.
“Nice try, there’s only one clinical mad man here James and it’s you”.
“What don’t you see or more importnatly what do you see?”
“I see a rodent trying to interfere with proper people’s lives”.
“I’m trying to free them”. James replied still on the floor.
“You’re an idiot. This is a shopping centre”.
“This is a warzone! You’re too nihilisticly in love with the concept of being this buildings physical representative too see the damage and nulling effect these buildings have on the human experience. I also doubt you understand when I use big words”.

Unable to resist the new aggressive urge Owen kicked James hard in the chest.

“You deserved that you pointless loser!”

When Miranda entered the room with the two security men she immediately sensed the tension followed by noticing James newly bruised face.
“What the hell!” she exclaimed.
“Adolf did it”. James replied as Owen shot him a glance.
“Come on I was obviously going to tell her”.
“What the bloody hell is going on!”
“That man is sick and needs some attention”.

James smiled as Owen said this savouring the power reversal.
“Look, you had no right to hit him!” Miranda screamed.
“You go girl!” James shouted like a mock cheerleader.
“He is banned from this centre”.
“Why did you hit him?”
“I think I can answer that. You see Mr Manager here is a text book sadistic authoritarian. He has worked his way up the ranks by stabbing people in the back and brown nosing. He gets little enjoyment out of life and probably has a string of failed relationship this shopping centre therefore provides him with his reason for existence. Without it he is nothing. I am a threat to this intitution as Isee through it’s antiseptic façade”.

James stopped. Owen was determined to control his anger this time.
“You still have no right to hit him. I know that he’s an irritating left wing moron who winds you up”.
“Thanks I thought you were on my side?”
“I will make sure he sues you for every damn penny he can”. Miranda replied.

It was then that doubt and despair returned to Owen.
“No, no you don’t understand…..”
“It’s ok suing people is not my idea of justice”.

With that James slinged out of the room Miranda following him.
“Are you crazy you had a perfect liable…”
“Look you’re not listening to me. You haven’t been at all money might be your God but it’s not mine. I pity him and you I see the truth and one day so will you”.

With that James walked off whistling as he went. Miranda felt completey dumbfounded.

4. The Murderous Passions

Owen never felt guilt for hitting James. It was only after be threatened with legal action that he felt concerned. He was still unsure as to believe James that he wont take legal action but he knew he could depend on the security team. Owen’s pathological flaws menat he felt little regard for the emotional or physical well being of others, but also expected little back from people. He enjoyed the power that being the manager granted him. His workers probably despised him and he realised that but they had to keep up the pretense that they repected and loved him. He had little time for the organic and found love in the plastic, concrete and metal that the infrastructure of the mall provided. To the building he was loyal and devouted and that was all that really mattered to him. People would come and go but the structure was everything. Without it the mundane shoppers and workers would have no focal point as well as little will power.

James finished his tour of the shopping centre and went home. Upon returning home he checked how well his movies were downloading before crashing down onto his tatty settee. He could imagine himself growing to really like someone like Miranda. Someone with one eye open and one eye closed.

As for Miranda she had lost the will to shop and returned to London. She was feeling drained by the emotional battle she had been drawn into. Neither happy nor sad she was tired and decided she wouldn’t go shopping for a while.

James decided to log onto his computer and look for something. He realised he could not fight the system on his own but needed assistance. He needed a cause to which he could offer himself completely. Without really knowing what he was looking for he had found it. He had discovered the L.C.F.

Owen no longer even bothered to ring or text his wife to say he would be late. What would be the point? In the past it was either used out of courtsey or to alert her to the fact she could sleep with one her lovers tonight. Instead he stayed late planning in case James did go to the police or lawyers.
As the cleaners began to work their way throughout the deserted indoor metropolis James decided to head home. As he walked slowly to his car he yawned and faked courtsey with his cleaning staff. As he reached the car park he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back as he fell to the floor. His head hit the concrete and he wanted to scream. Standing over him was James with a metal pole in his hand.

“This is my justice!” James screamed as he began to kick Owen hard in the chest. Owen coughed up blood as James laughed.
“Be seeing you”. James muttered as he ran off into the night.

Owen slowly climbed to his feet wiping the blood from his face.

“Bastard!” he spat with pure hatred.

This war was from over…..

THE END

S2E03 - HAIL TO THE EMPEROR by GRANT FOXON

2010-12-28T04:43:00.000-08:00

Treasury Meeting. Number 11 Downing Street.

The clock on the wall ticked awkwardly as six gentlemen sat well dressed around a meeting table. Their conversation was not a pleasant one. They were discussing the dangerous precedence known simply and enigmatically as the future.

“Gentlemen, we are facing troubled times. The likes of which have not been seen before. The world is facing economic problems of global depths. We as a country are becoming broke. To the point we will never recover and slip into the ether as a lowly and poor European state. Our first problem is ownership of the UK. Three families own 40% of the world’s wealth. None live in England. We have secretly accepted an offer by France to sell them Calais. We have had other offers. The revenue from North Sea Gas is no longer as much as before and we are dependant on Russia, which is using economic stealth to keep us trapped and powerless like a dealer and a drug addict. The USA is no longer there to bolt us up. Since we paid the WW2 debt off over a year ago they have been distancing themselves from us. Then there is China, the future? So much of our economies are tied up with her and she has problems if she can’t solve them then we might as well all go home and kill our families and ourselves. And let us not forget the rising threats of over population and pollution. So there you have it? Sell off half the country and our nuclear programme and we might get another thirty maybe fifty years of reasonable comfort otherwise…well we shall be a third world state”.
The room fell into silence. The clocks gradual ticking made it all the more unbearable. The gentleman giving the meeting smiled.
“Now any questions?”
“Are you proposing a strategy?”
The man hesitated knowing his next comments would prove to be controversial.
“We need to act now. Stealth taxes and other means of getting revenue fast. I propose all monies from wages are to go straight to the inland revenue and they in turn shall dish it out to people where and when we see fit. Benefits must also be tightened and more means testing”.
The man was right about his reaction. There were noises of complaint but the Chancellor silenced them.
“We are facing a constitutional crisis. No one wants to hear this, but I agree I propose we immediately bring this into action. We will of course need consent from the Prime Minister”.
“What about the monarchy?”
Another asked. The Chancellor fell silent.
“I hope you are not suggesting we become a republic?”
“No, no of course not it’s just that well if they hear of this…”
The Chancellor silenced the gentleman.
“No one other than the Prime Minister will hear of this”.
They all agreed and as quickly as politeness would dictate smiled and parted. With everyone gone The Chancellor and is advisor looked at each other.
“Are things really that bad?” The Chancellor asked.
“No sir, they’re much worse”.
“And keeping China’s growth going is vital?”
“For the moment, although there could be serious troubles ahead between the two superpowers of the USA and China Sir”.
The Chancellor didn’t like where this was going.
“Concerning what?”
“The strait of Malacca located between Malaysia and Indonesia. And the use of oil pipe lines. It’s expected at current growth China will have more than USA by 2020”.
“Not good”.
“No sir and we know how well are “friends” react to paranoia. Following9/11 America has adopted a America first policy and pulled out of various agreements if push comes to shove America will be forced to stand up to China it is my firm belief that we should join China. Are debts to the US are now paid off and there’s no point sticking with the losing team if we don’t have to”.
“And the rest of the UN?” The Chancellor asked.
“France predictably will side with America because that’s what they do, sidewith whomever the Brits don’t. As for the rest of Europe Germany will side with the greater economy. Russia and Italy have no love of America and that action will be the act of the king maker making the next super power…China”.

The Chancellor nodded and thanked his advisor. He was reminded of an old story he was told in his youth about the end of the Roman Empire and the last Emperor finally getting what he wanted only the empire has broken down and there’s nothing left for him to rule anymore.

FLORIDA.

Slowly Paul awoke. His head was spinning his mind was throbbing with the trauma of recent events. He saw the man he killed recently and he saw hid dead beloved. He tried to move and realised he was tied down. He was lying on his back on a damp mattress. There was little light. Then he remembered being grabbed he thought it was the police but, but it was someone else. Someone who wanted him? Could it be the L.C.F?

Nearby two figures watched Paul lying there on the bed. They were Marvel and Fate. These were there adopted names at least. Two Afro Americans who had to grow up on the wrong side of town. And as street wise and tough as they were they had an extra skill that made them even more dangerous. They were clever. Very clever. They had carved semi-legitimate businesses involving nightclubs and bars. However their illegal business involved brothels and drugs. Drugs especially, they had financed associates through medical school to provide them with the knowledge and gear that would allow them to get ahead in the narcotics world. In fact they were pioneering a new upper. The upper Marvel christened Heaven. And as the mane suggested it made the user elated. However, early tests with tramps and other forgettable members of society had proven inconclusive. It seemed to put huge pressures on the heart and this led to death quickly. It needed cleaning up and then the tax-free cash would roll right in.

Paul tried to free himself again and then tried to scream. His delayed reaction made him realise he had been drugged. He knew it was pointless to resist and instead tried to sleep and gain strength to fight back.

Marvel paced his executive suite. He had big plans for Heaven, he wanted it on the street ASAP. But he knew better than to rush it out. If it were a killer the DA would be on it immediately and junkies would think twice. It had to be perfect, calm it down with out eliminating the euphoria. Hence the need to collect wasters, drunks and the homeless. No one would miss them, they would be the testers. In fact Marvel believed he was doing a public service.

Paul awoke again, this time he was in a room with a chair. He stood up to see another two men in the corner. Both smelled of urine and were stereotypical losers.

“Where…who are you?” Paul asked.

A big muscular figure stepped forwards and with a light punch sent Paul backwards. Fate appeared behind the man and pulled him back.

“Enough. Don’t waste the commodities”. He muttered.
Paul tried to stand.
“Who are you? Where am I?”
“Stop asking questions Mother… you hear me? Your ass is ours”.
Paul confused fell back onto the floor.

The cops had found the dead body. MI6 shared its knowledge of Paul and the situation with the LCF. They realised whom the killer was and what they had to do. They began by playing it cool. They didn’t want to involve the media yet because of the potential media backlash this could create. They wanted him found quickly and with the least attention as possible.

Paul weak was lifted up and placed in a simple desk chair.

“What’s going on?” he muttered.
“Shut the hell up honky”. Came the quick guttural reply.
“You’re ass about to go to heaven”.

Paul believed they were going to kill him. And he did not care, he would gladly welcome death if it came.

Instead he was given a tablet and forced to swallow. It dissolved in his mouth not unlike a fizzy sweet. He shook his head and wanted to yawn.

“Now we’re gonna see if it’s your lucky day punk”.
Paul’s eyes fluttered as he wished he would die.

Marvel wasn’t a worrier, but he was cautious. He had friends in with the cops and it had allowed him to keep his meth labs secret. However he was concerned about heaven. If the next batch failed to work then he had to cut his losses and abandon the project. He waited anxiously for the report from the latest group of wasters.
But all was not lost. The next batch seemed to have worked. There were no obvious heart problems or palpitations. The people they tried it on did indeed seem to get off their nut and go to heaven. Marvel’s patience had been rewarded.

Paul had felt little like it. He was never into drugs but this is more intense than he imagined. He felt cushioned from the world. He even felt himself smile. Movement and time seemed to be going to slow for him. He felt like the parochial phoenix flying from the flames.

Fate sat back and watched the three tramps they had spiked with heaven. Associates took their blood pressure again all was apparently in acceptable narcotics range. He smiled he knew Marvel was going to love this which meant more money and shares in heaven.

LONDON.

Ridge was suffering from guilt. From the inside he had learned that Paul had indeed killed the assailant and now he was the biggest kept secret in Florida with all of the law enforcement looking for him. Ridge paced his study preying that Paul wouldn’t do anything stupid.

FLORIDA

Marvel always kept close contact with his cops. So he was told about Paul Grover the man they were after. A photo was faxed to him. Marvel had seen the man before but couldn’t place him. He was told that if he had to him to get rid of him immediately. With this Marvel headed over to his den where the tests were being conducted and sure enough there was a dirty, grungy Paul Grover off his face on heaven.

“That honky there we gotta get rid of him now!” Marvel bellowed.
“What is it?”
“No idea, but the cops want his ass. Get him out of here then get him dead!”

Fate nodded and Paul was scooped up and taken to a car where he was dumped in the back. Fate driving sped off into the night. Marvel made a quick phone call.

Fate was going to drive Paul out of town to where there crocodiles. He knew the cops would realise he was full of drugs when they would autopsy the body. So it seemed plausible that he would stumble into somewhere he shouldn’t and get eaten by a large hungry monster.

In the back Paul was coming down and slowly returning to normality. With a feeling of misery in his mind he went for Fate. Fate tried to fight back and drive in the end the car sped onto the sidewalk and hit a wall. Fate grabbed his knife.

“Your dead!”
Fate jumped out of the front of the car with his knife suddenly out of nowhere cops appeared. Fate couldn’t believe it. He looked around and dropped the knife.

“It’s ok he’s a friend of mine”. Fate tried to blag his way out.
“Bull shit”. Came the officer’s reply.
“You believed it when that honky Dahmer said it though didn’t ya?” he joked sourly.

The officer recognised Paul Grover and he was immediately dragged away.

“I hope you’ve got a good lawyer”.

THE END

S2E02 - MESSIAH MARKET by MATTHEW SPENCER & GRANT FOXON

2010-12-27T14:37:00.000-08:00

“And what has been revealed? Our conscious thought is only a small of the work of the dark psychic forces. Learned divers descend to the bottom of the ocean and there take photographs of mysterious fishes. Human thought, descend to the very bottom of its own psychic forces, must shed light on the most mysterious driving forces of the soul and subject them to reason and to will”.
Sigmund Freud.

FLORIDA

Paul Grover poured himself a stiff drink: Whiskey – neat. It had been a long day of anguish and finding a cheap hotel and then trying to get used to his new surroundings and find the man he would execute. Yes, this didn’t even qualify on the ‘justification’ scale – this drink was mandatory. Those that would come after however, might need excuses. Wearily he slouched into the lounge and collapsed on the sofa; glass hand remaining steady in a subliminal action to prevent a single drop from spilling; reaching for the remote lodged awkwardly under his leg. He flicked on the fairly antiquated television set – he never saw the point of modernising to a sleeker frame when he only used it for a drinking buddy -, to his annoyance finding the channel set onto the digital help channel. Jabbing at the ‘zero’ and ‘one’ he realised all too late that this new digital box required a ‘one’ at the beginning of each code. Impatiently he tried to reset the code by jabbing the zero key again but this just resulted in the channel code entry extending to a fourth digit.
“Christ sake…” he slurred in anger, pressing the ‘one’ button and being informed that this channel was ‘invalid’. Tiredness mingled with alcohol and irritation as he stabbed desperately at the remote, causing the television to flick to some random channel towards the end of the listings; some religious network in which gormless crowd were applauding a smartly dressed minister at a pulpit preaching for donations and world unity. The remote had given up the ghost completely now and Adam removed the back to rub the batteries into life. The television minister babbled on loudly in the background.
“…And with your support we can provide the salvation and protection for future generations. But don’t take my word for it – here’s the man you all came to see: Reverent Shaun Lander”.

Paul chokes on his throat full of whiskey as Shaun Latner appears from off screen and takes his place at the pulpit to the tumultuous applause of the audience. He beams them and the cameras a warm modest smile, bowing his head and holding up a hand for them to cease.
“Please, please; there is no need for all this flattery. I am merely a messenger to a far greater power. And today, my children, that message is: salvation”. Latner pauses while waiting for the eruption of cheers to die down. “His wish is simple; that we live in harmony with his beloved Earth. And we shall honour that wish. However, as we all know this is not an easy road to travel. Enemies seek to prevent God’s Great Plan, destroy all that he has created for profit; enemies such as Greed, Envy, Lust, and Gluttony, given physical embodiment in the form of oil corporations and lumber mills. Well my children, I say it is time we fight back, but not with violence – no, for wrath is the path to damnation. Instead we fight them on their own terms. The Latner Foundation aims to buy up remaining Green belts and forest regions worldwide, preventing our enemies – Gods’ enemies – from harming our forests any further. Please…”, he waits for the audience to settle. “Please. This is just the beginning. Using this land I shall build research centres to find and reverse the damage caused by greenhouse and ozone emissions. Already we have centres in Asia, Germany’s Black Forest, England, and South America. When our work is done, mankind will look out upon a new Garden of Eden, knowing they have done The Lord proud. But in order to do so the Latner Foundation needs your donations. For a small price we can and will restore the natural balance. He loves you. Thanks you and God Bless America”. The audience explodes in frenzied cheering, camera shots showing many digging deep into their wallets and handing over wads of dollar bills to the awaiting donation collectors. Paul views in stunned silence. Without moving his gaze he reaches for the telephone.

Then he wonders whom he’s going to call exactly? He’s there to murder the hired killer who killed his pregnant girlfriend. Whatever fiendish agenda Lartner had out here was no matter to him. When Paul killed this bastard then he knew he could never return to Doomwatch. He no longer knew if there even was a Doomwatch anymore. No Paul turned the TV over and poured himself another glass. He needed to formulate some kind of plan if he was going to get this bastard. The next programme he found was repeats of Married With Children. Paul’s physical body watched it whilst his mind was elsewhere. No longer governed by the rational and the right, he was a new organism born like the phoenix out of the ashes of his family. Reborn to kill.

Timmons visited Miranda. He was concerned that he would be watched to see if he still maintained a close relationship with the various Doomwatch operatives. So far nothing had been said to him but he knew they were watching. They had eyes and ears everywhere.

“Is there any word about Paul?” Miranda asked with genuine concern.
“We know he’s in Florida. He was seen on CCTV, other than that I don’t know. They don’t want me to know”.
Miranda rubbed her head.
“They’ve set a date for Kate’s funeral. It seems they can’t wait any longer”. Miranda announced concerned.

Timmons nodded in reply.
“I…”
Miranda reached out and touched Timmons arm.
“It’s ok we’re all feeling it. Well nearly all of us”.
“You mean Adam?” Timmons asked.
“He never turned up. He’s probably fallen back into his usual drink filled self-pity. How dare he?”
Miranda was getting irate.
“Maybe you could help him?” Timmons offered.
“I honestly think he might well be beyond help”.

Timmons had been no friend of Adam Quist’s indeed the two frequently clashed, but Timmons knew that truth and justice were always on Quist’s remit even if his methods were parochial and unconventional. Timmons didn’t believe he was beyond help.

“I don’t like Adam not since I first set eyes on him. I thought him leading Doomwatch was ridiculous. But he did good. I still don’t like him but Miranda a man as good as he is not beyond redemption. Perhaps if Ridge speaks with him?”

Miranda laughed.
“Why should we and how can we help him if he can’t help himself poor Paul has lost everything, Eve’s still in a coma and Adam’s once again sunk to the bottom of a bottle. No we can’t make excuses for him any longer. It’s up to him to help himself. We can’t!”
There was a pause.
“Any word on the LCF?” Miranda asked.
“There was an incident recently which we suspect they had some hand in but that was all”.
“Fanatics I suppose they’re all prone to self-destructive whims”.

A speeding car and police sirens woke Paul up. He sat bolt upright in bed and immediately reached for his gun. He waited without breathing and then lowered the weapon. He took a deep breath. He then headed into the bathroom and washed his face. He closed his eyes but all he saw was Kate smiling at him. He shook the image away and the topography of his mind reassembled this time they presented him with the cold dead image of Kate. A lifeless corpse damaged beyond repair. With no more life came quick decomposition. The fluids and gases inside escaped. Nothing no soul no child just a barren wasteland. Paul punched the wall in fast successions. Blood began to pour out. He fell to the ground crying in pain and misery. His humanity had been lost replaced by the natural emotion of vengeance. Nature abhors a vacuum and the human psyche is no different. Paul had a new goal in life he was going to maim and kill the murderer who killed his family. They would never know but he at least would gain some satisfaction in the act even if it cost him his mind.
Paul’s eyes glistened with malice and a deep maladjustment. He wanted to be free. But the pain and guilt attacked him constantly with waves of pain. He felt like he was drowning. He realised the whisky bottle was nearly empty. Paul downed what was left and then nearly immediately threw up. He took a shower and as he attempted to cleanse his body he felt as though he was having sex with her. He could sense her caressing his body from some new celestial location; her sensuality caused him to breakdown and cry. He cut a pathetic figure reduced to a wrecked mind governing a youthful body. Paul knew death awaited him in the shadows. Paul vowed to kill himself as soon as he but a bullet in the assassin’s brain matter.

The murderer sat in his rented apartment. It was a ground floor flat. He idly watched the TV. More re-runs of Married with Children. His lack of emotion was obvious. His previous mission was over. He had received money and annoyed feedback that Adam Quist survived the attack. It was to be expected. He also heard from his ex girlfriend about the child maintenance that was owed. But this would soon be rectified. He was back in the States and believed to have successfully avoided detection once more. In fact his work had proven so well planned and successful that he was beginning to feel immortal and untouchable. This over confidence could prove to be disastrous downfall. In chess he had discovered that the majority of games he lost was down to over confident activities on his part. This must be rectified.
He then reached for his mobile and dialled a number. After a few rings a stoned voice on the other end answered.

“It’s me. I want to see you…now”.
He hung up and prepared for his visitor.

Whilst awaiting his visitor he looked at the photographs he had of his son. He picked one up and smiled a proud smile. He then put it back on the table. His son wanted to know what “daddy” did. He told him he was a removal man. This answered seemed to satisfy the young boy.
After about half an hour there was a knock on the door. He answered the door to a rather worried looking prostitute called Juliette. She was a thin slender brunette with legs that seemed to go on forever. He smiled at her and stroked her face she tried not to flinch.

“At least act like you want it”. He said.
He then tossed a bundle of cash at her. She started to count it.
“It’s all there”. He said annoyed.
She acted like she never heard him and finished counting she then put the money into her bag.
“Ok. I’m just…worried about what happens. I don’t want it to hurtand go too far”.
He smiled.
“Did it last time? And I did pay for a service”.
With that she stood closer to him and unprovoked slapped him hard in the face. He turned to face her and smiled.
“Again”. He whispered.

She slapped him hard again and again. He felt a rush of sexual excitement.

He awoke from his bed a few hours later. He checked the cuts and slashes over his body he had paid Juliette to deliver onto him. He rubbed one sensitive deep wound. It generated a residual sexual thrill. She was flat out. He looked down at her body she almost seemed dead. He had half seriously considered killing her but never really planned how. And besides he killed for money not pleasure. It was this rule that allowed him to remain a member of human society albeit on the outskirts of the void between the boundaries of the human experience.
He slowly walked through to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk. It was then he noticed a light outside the flat. He carefully looked through the curtains. Outside someone was shining a torch into the flat. He stepped back the light disappeared. He picked up a kitchen knife and slowly opened the front door. There was nobody outside. The road was empty. He headed back into the flat where a man he recognised as Paul Grover from Doomwatch was holding a small automatic pistol at his head.
“Can I help you?” He asked with full confidence.
“Why?”
“Why? Why what?”
“Why did you kill them?”
Paul fought back the tears as he asked.
The man raised his hands and dropped the knife on the floor.
“Ok…Paul Grover my wife’s asleep in the bedroom fire that thing you’ll have to kill two people. Could you do it?”
He asked cautiously.
“Why not you did”.
Paul replied.
“I wouldn’t have thought a murderous bastard like you would feel what I felt”.
He smiled casually. “I get pleasure from women but I still despise them. But she has feelings for me. I have a child”.
“It doesn’t make any difference you are dead”.
“You don’t understand me I don’t mean to plead for my life with emotional blackmail. I just need you to understand that I too am human. I imagine you’ve vilified me, and I must confess I still don’t understand how you caught me?”
Paul moved closer and pressed the gun into the man’s temples.
“Seen as you’re about to die I don’t think it matters”.
“It is precisely for that reason that it does matter”.
He countered. Paul relaxed and pulled the gun away.
“It was nothing personnel. It was a job. For what it’s worth I failedin my primary objective”.
“Which was?”
“Adam Quist”. He replied.
Paul considered this.
“So if I hadn’t brought her there…then she would be alive”.
“Possibly, she was never singled out as a target. Just a incidentof causality. I’m sorry for what it’s worth”.

Paul looked at him and saw red he punched him and sent him crashing to the ground he then kicked him hard in the chest and face. His face split open and blood like his sins flowed from it.
“You killed her and now you’re sorry!”
“She wasn’t singled out as a target Grover. You brought her tooDoomwatch. The LCF had blown up targets recently and you stilltook her there. Some part of you must have realised Doomwatch was a target, the security alert should have been at maximum and you still took her there. Maybe you wanted her dead?”

Paul snapped again and repeatedly kicked the man harder and harder. The pain was excruciating and still oh so delectable. A wave of pleasure flowed through out his being.
“You son of a bitch!”

With that Paul pulled the trigger. The bullets penetrated his head at a 90-degree angle shattering his cranium and sending blood flowing onto the wall. His body momentarily spasmed and then silence. Paul lowered the gun smoke emerged from the end like some phallic ejaculation. Juliette heard the sound and came out. She stood motionless the two looked at each other then Paul ran out of the flat.
Juliette looked down at the corpse. She opened her handbag and pulled out a pair of gloves she then put them on and pulled his wallet out. She then shoved the wallet in her handbag and ran off.
The corpse lay there a sad but fitting epitaph. Of course this had all been predicted and indeed welcomed by the L.C.F a way of tying up loose ends.

Mr Lartner had a dream. He dreamed of the higher temples of commerce where he was worshipped as God. Lartner was planning a hostile takeover of Christianity. And nothing or no one was going to stand in his way. Lartner was determined to be the new God of the 21st century where there are only false idols and all are worshipped in the Holy order of consumerism. If crimes are committed then credit cards will be withdrawn and the criminals will starve to death. Cheap plastic churches will be commissioned to reflect the new cheap plastic society in place. Life would also be as cheap. Life and death both commodities that could be brought. CCTV’s and eternal databases controlling and monitoring our every move like some enormous gigantic battery farm. WE EAT GOD. Lartner thought to himself.

“Please, please; there is no need for all this flattery. I am merely a messenger to a far greater power. And today, my children, that message is: salvation”. Lartner pauses while waiting for the eruption of cheers to die down. “His wish is simple; that we live in harmony with his beloved Earth. And we shall honour that wish. However, as we all know this is not an easy road to travel. Enemies seek to prevent God’s Great Plan, destroy all that he has created for profit; enemies such as Greed, Envy, Lust, and Gluttony, given physical embodiment in the form of oil corporations and lumber mills. Well my children, I say it is time we fight back, but not with violence – no, for wrath is the path to damnation. Instead we fight them on their own terms. The Lartner Foundation aims to buy up remaining Green belts and forest regions worldwide, preventing our enemies – Gods’ enemies – from harming our forests any further. Please…”, he waits for the audience to settle. “Please. This is just the beginning. Using this land I shall build research centres to find and reverse the damage caused by greenhouse and ozone emissions. Already we have centres in Asia, Germany’s Black Forest, England, and South America. When our work is done, mankind will look out upon a new Garden of Eden, knowing they have done The Lord proud. But in order to do so the Latner Foundation needs your donations. For a small price we can and will restore the natural balance. He loves you. Thanks you and God Bless America”. The audience explodes in frenzied cheering, camera shots showing many digging deep into their wallets and handing over wads of dollar bills to the awaiting donation collectors.

Was it this easy for God? Lartner wonders to himself.

American Intelligence had relayed the current Lartner scam back to Timmons. Who had brought Miranda in as his confident.

“So he found religion. That’s nice.” Miranda hovered furtively at the office television watching footage of one of Latners’ sermons; disconcertion set on her face.
“I must have watched all of these four times over by now, but aside from the obvious financial benefits and the persona exposure, I’m completely lost on his real agenda.” Timmons shifted in his seat. “Apart from that case with MaxiWorld we’ve never been able to pin any of the other incidences to him despite the links we’ve uncovered. The rat bastard is going public; clearly this is nearing the endgame”.

“He sold flesh eating condoms as a warm up act – God only knows what he’s planning or how far he’s willing to go”, said Miranda – breaking her silence but not her gaze.
“Agreed. Now what we do know is that Latner is interested in bio-chemicals, and is well educated in both physiology, toxicology, ecology, biology – human and animal -, and pharmaceuticals – plus psychology and sociology. These plants he’s building globally are situated in Greenland, heavy forest areas for a purpose. Best guess is that whatever he’s planning involves either the plans, indigenous wildlife or both”.
“He makes multiple comments about coal, oil, lumber and diamond mining companies – knowing him there’s more to this than a preservation of the forests.” Miranda stopped the recoding and ejected the disc. She replaced it on the desk, selected another and wandered back to the screen to continue her observations.
“Last case we had on him I combed through his businesses investments and properties. Nothing particularly dodgy cropped up, but when we closed the case I didn’t push it much further – chances are I missed something; a shadow company perhaps”, Timmons ventured.

“Get on it. Any connection to Latner needs to be followed up; financers; top level employees; investors; business ventures; partnerships – their partnerships; mergers -through research on every minute aspect of all of Latners’ dealings. The Americans seem more interested all of a sudden?” Miranda asked.
“I imagine they see more of a threat. Hopefully they can pick him up soon” Timmons replied.
“And what about Paul?” Miranda asked.
“Together, we shall reclaim this world in the name of Good God Almighty. He loves you. Amen and God bless”. Latner’s beaming smile froze as Miranda hit the pause button.

Adam sat alone in near darkness with only Johnny Walker for company. There was a heavy knock at the door. Adam didn’t realise it at first he thought the sound could have just been emanating in his head. He then stood and walked to the front door and answered it. The days sunlight made his shield his eyes. Miranda was standing there.
“Hello Dracula”. She said.
“Hello is this a social call. Well it must be as there is no more Doomwatch”. Adam said. Miranda felt the urge to slap him.
“There could have been if you had turned up for the meeting with the minister”.
“Some anal ferret in a suit, do me a favour”.

Miranda sniffed.
“You stink”.
“Thanks, is this tirade of abuse going to last long? Only I’m planning a ritualistic suicide later on”.
“Lartners back. You want in?”
“What is this the Nancy Drew mysteries. No I don’t want in. Doomwatch is over. You should be looking for a proper job not heckling an old drunk. This is justlike a Clockwork Orange. Have you heard from Paul?”
Adam asked with genuine concern.
“No but we know he’s in Florida”.
“It’s a big state”.
“Yeah with the death penalty”. Miranda replied cautiously.

Timmons was not currently involved in the MI6 investigation into Lartner. In a boardroom a meeting was going on headed by MI6 stalwart Rachel Wallace.

“Practically all the records of both MaxiWorld and the bee’s mutant genes were erased, but not before I was able to obtain copies”. She handed the sheet of chemical compounds to Adam. “This first set of figures are from one of the organic contraceptives taken from MaxiWorld, while the second come from the hairs of a mutant bee. Notice how the same baseline genetic sequence recurs in both samples, even though the sequence itself is different? What ever Lartner was working on at MaxiWorld has been replicated here although the scale of the operation has been refined to less complex organisms – namely insects. And now if you’ll see the over-side you can see samples taken from plants at Lartners ‘Salvation Foundries’ – it’s the same repeating genetic code again, this time specific to the vegetations DNA”. Emily stopped and allowed Dr. Bengal to make his address.
“Each one is further specific to certain types of foliage; my teams found that the African and Canadian samples are identical but for the DNA specifics of each plant’s various genotypes and phenotypes”.

The boardroom was quiet. “Basically you’re saying that this virus or whatever it is, is being refined through simpler organisms. Okay, I can buy that. The question is: Why go public? If this is all some plot to release a viral pandemic then why do it in such a way that draws the maximum amount of attention and press coverage? Even an egomaniac like Lartner knows smarter than that”. Professor Catlin slid the sheet back to Rachael. “Much as I hate to say it, this goes far deeper than releasing a virus. Lartner has a game plan, and that usually means there’s a profit for him to make. The site locations and the lack of resource mining is clearly a clue – no way he could set up camp without knowing and then pass up such an opportunity”. The Minister’s fingers were steeped in contemplation. Finally he voiced his opinion.

“What if it’s not about what he’s mining, but instead what he’s stopping his competitors from mining? We already know he owns or is heavily involved with several oil corporations. What if he is purposefully shutting off his competitors supplies as part of it?”
“That’s not a bad idea, contact your teams abroad and find out who had previous claims to the areas Lartner has build on. The rest of you are to keep digging until I next organise a meeting. Thank you all”. Rachel stood whilst The Minister collected in the files. “We can cut this in the bud if we can just find the last pieces and put the puzzle together before Lartner makes his move. Now if you excuse me, I have tickets to a show I don’t want to miss”.

Against his manager’s better judgments, Latner had insisted on doing a special sermon before leaving Adamsville. Although the event was last minute, the town hall was packed to the doors with his followers. Pausing at the off-side curtain to inspect the crowd he took a moment to savour the progress of his machinations till this point. Targeting the evangelists was the simplest decision; who else would blindly follow authority with no form of evidence, while displaying a devotion so loyal that they would carry out any order without hesitation and to a fault? Today was time to test their devotion – see how far his power over them held. He strode onto the stage and allowed them to wear themselves down from applauding before starting.
“Yes, yes. Thank you all. Tonight I want to reaffirm my earlier sermon on the the sins man inflicts upon himself and the corrupting influence this is having on the faith of our children which is slowly corroding the moral fabric of this country”. Angered voices babbled in agreement at this. “God gave us free will, and yet how do some use this gift, bestowed not on the angels of his immaculate creation?: by using ‘science’ as a weapon to destroy God’s good name; fob his masterful works as rock formation or ‘evolution’” – more boo’s and hissing. This is where we test the true limits of your devotion – just like Himmler, Borman and Goering before you, you simplistic cretins, thought Latner. “Scientists such as our own Dr. Fiki Bengal. A man so steeped in sin that he literally cannot contain it within himself and so seeks to pollute the minds of those around him with teachings and research on evolution. Men like this are killing God, but what are we to do about it?” Latner trailed off to allow this thought to take root within the crowd’s minds’. Already he could here the violent undercurrent passing as murmurs among them, an aura of malevolence and barely suppressed violence – just as he had anticipated. “Are we to allow this harmful action to continue unpunished? Are we to simply turn the other cheek? No, our work on the Salvation Foundries only purifies the body of this earth. We cannot enter a new state of nirvana unless we change the heart, mind and soul of each and ever person in it. Show them no mercy as you seek to convert them, and together we can bring forth a brand new dawn!” The crowd exploded in raptured applause, and Latner was pleased to see that his words, his true subtextual meaning, had been heeded by a particular group of shaven-headed men at the back whose fixed gazes told him his little experiment has succeeded.

Alone and empty Paul avoided the various cop cars that were patrolling the streets. By now he wondered if the body of the killer was found. Did she call the cops?

Lartner , dressed in an expensive navy blue suit, hair slicked back, shoes immaculately polished makes his way down the corridor with long but composed strides. The grand walkway’s rich cream walls are lined with large oil portraits of selective former Presidents and congressmen; their frames thick, gold-leaf coated and magnificent, and expensive glass and dark-wood doors. The occasional table is complimented by vases of expensive taste. The distant sound of fanfare builds, becoming more audible as he approaches a set of black doors at the far end of the corridor that ascend to the considerably high ceiling. He pushes the reflective brass handled doors aside with outstretched arms and enters the room – the fanfare blazing as the band notices his entrance. The well-dressed ladies and gentlemen of the room turn and applaud him as he stands in the open frame, a smile faintly playing over his lips as he modestly soaks up their approval. A thinly moustached, meticulously well dressed and groomed man of late years approaches Lartner, grinning with arms outstretched. He seizes Lartners’ hand and shakes it with firm vigour.
“‘Ma boy, on behalf of ‘ma self and the entirety of this room, allow me to be the first one to welcome you to the Republican Party Elite”.
The room bursts into applause and cheers, the flash of cameras filling the considerable space with pulsing white lights. Several equally annually groomed men approach Lartner and shake his hand.
“Speech” rings out throughout the crowds. After a few agreed nods from those closest him, Lartner clears his throat and begins – the room hushing in preparation.
“Thank you for this considerably great opportunity. I promise you, with my help we can return America to what it once was – back before the Democrats sullied the good name and made the worlds’ most powerful nation a joke in the eyes of its inferiors”. He waits while the cheers die down. “The work already set in motion by the Lartner Foundation will ensure that never again will anyone man, woman or child think to mock the might of the land of the strong and the free. And...” he waits once more for the rapturous applause to fade, “- and as my first act as a member of your prestigious party, to celebrate the glorious revival of the American Dream I’ve made arrangements for us to have ourselves a little tea-party.” He grins to himself as the room exchanges bewildered looks but continue to applaud him. Phase two now complete, phase three can be set in motion.

In reality Officer Graw a skinny compulsive eater stood over the corpse munching on a candy bar whilst he and his partner Winchowski waited for forensics to show up.

“No sign of a robbery”. Winchowski announced.
Graw wasn’t interested. He just shrugged.
“This poor bastard knew his attacker. Question is why was he killed?”

Paul walked through alleys and considered killing himself. He then realised it wasn’t paranoia he was suffering from. The cops were out in force and they were looking for him. He skulked back into the shadows when he felt a sharp pain in his side. He collapsed to the ground unable to move.

Two Afro-Americans stood over him.

“Blaze is gonna love us. We got our quote”.

The two men smiled then picked Paul up and shoved the tazer they used to paralyse him away. They then shoved Paul in the back of a nearby van and drove off.

Slowly Paul came round. He was tied down on a bed next to him was a large man. He looked like he’d chewed on his tongue there was dried blood around his mouth.
“What the hell!” screamed Paul.
It was then that a large Afro American in a expensive suit appeared.
“Don’t worry about him”.
“Who are you, where am I?”
“Going by your personnel appearance I’d say neither of those questions really matters. In fact we’re helping clean the filth off the streets. What is far more worrying for you is what we’re going to do with you”.
“What are you going to do with me?”
The figure laughed.
“Well you are privileged. You’re here to sample heaven. Tag him”.
Suddenly two figures emerged out of the shadows and injected something into Paul’s arms. He tried to scream in vain……

THE END

S2E01 - THE METAL MEN by GERRY FOBON

2010-12-27T13:29:00.000-08:00

“I tell you heads must roll and blood must flow”
Leon Trotsky

SNOWDON. WALES. 19:36.

Jeffrey Palmer a retired civil servant sits in comfort inside his tent with his much younger girlfriend and a mug of hot chocolate. Since taking early retirement which was largely forced upon him, he decided to resume his old hobby; he also had a new girlfriend, much younger who worked for him. In fact Mr Palmer had a whole new outlook on life. Or what was left of it.
Leaving the tent, he lit up his pipe and surveyed the mountainside. The fresh air made him feel younger. More alive. This was perhaps cruel irony because in moments he would be dead.
The assassin approached slowly and with caution. With unnatural ability and no body language the killer was upon Jeffrey in seconds. Producing a blade the gloved killer drove it through Mr Palmer’s windpipe killing him quickly, almost humanely. The figure then turned its attention to the girlfriend in the tent. Slowly it approached and then it too killed her. She managed a brief scream but then nothing. The cold undiscovered country and taking them both.

WHITEHALL. LONDON.

Miranda hadn’t slept. The previous days had been too traumatic. Eve was still in a coma and Paul was somewhere in the USA. What’s more the L.C.F had the power now to predict events. No longer would chaos theory stop them. For their intelligentsia everything was a matter of predeterminism. No rogue or independent variables would apply.
Miranda glanced at her watch still no sign of Adam. Where the hell is he! Miranda knew that his drinking could no longer be tolerated. It had to end immediately. A wave of anger washed over her as she realised she was the only one holding it altogether. Except maybe Ridge but he had made a terrible mistake telling Paul and helping him to exact revenge. Dear God, what the hell is going to happen now?
A bland figure in a suit opened the office door.
“This way please”. He muttered as he gestured Miranda forward. She followed suddenly the butterflies inside her stomach were having a psychotic episode.
Inside the office Miranda saw Timmons sitting there already. His face as passive and neutral as ever.
“Thank you. Take a seat”. The minister gestured to Miranda to sit down.
“This meeting has been called forth to discuss the urgent problem of Doomwatch. The incident as it was that cost the life of a civilian not even authorised to be on the premises and placed another in hospital. So what do we do now?”
The minister spoke coldly.
“For a start it was no incident but a terrorist attack by the LCF. Second the civilian was pregnant”.
The minister barely registered what Miranda had said.
“Yes. Of course. It seems that Mr Grover has also gone awl. And Adam Quist hasn’t even bothered to turn up today. Am I correct?”
Miranda wanted to strike this jumped up turd in a suit but restricted herself.
“Yes, but the LCF now has greater strength
The minister leaned back.
“Yes the research from a think tank. A think tank, which can apparently predict all factors and variables even taking the unpredictability into account. Quite frankly I find the notion ridiculous. The LCF if they were responsible will be dealt with soon enough. The law will see to that have no mistake”.
“Minister…” Miranda began.
“Descartes rationalism is one think but the idea that all actions even chaos can be predicted through any form of high mathematics is ludicrous in the extreme. I have no other then decision that to keep Doomwatch closed”.
Miranda felt her face drop.
“Sir, Doomwatch really is a force for good”. Timmons tried to argue.
“Oh yes, as well causing major problems with very influential foreign investors like Mr Dezak. No the decision has been made and authorised. Doomwatch is no more. The argument therefore for Doomwatch being a form of central morality is limited somewhat”.
“Please Minster, there are indeed mitigating circumstances. Remember every door has two openings”.
The minister smiled.
“How poetic. But the decision remains the same. Good day”.
The minister pointed to the door. Miranda shocked turned and walks out the door, Timmons followed.
“But they can’t do that!” Miranda muttered.
“Look, it’s important to keep a brave heart”.
Timmons tried to help the atmosphere.
“Brave heart? It’s all gone to shit Timmons. All of it!”
Miranda stormed off. Timmons sighed and followed her.

News reporters flocked like vultures around the carcass of the Doomwatch building. Photos were being taken and passers by were being asked if they had witnessed anything. The reporters didn’t care if these people were truthful or not with their replies.

Ridge had took the opportunity in the confusion to run the risk that he was no longer being watched, to slip back to the dead drop and check if anything had been left there by JIMMY. JIMMY was an agent Ridge had met many years ago in Turkey. Ridge owed him his life. Recently they had begun to get in communication together. JIMMY an Israeli was concerned with the situation on the Gaza strip and believed that more extreme people had crept into the party and the blockades were the beginning of a situation that could escalate.
To Ridge’s surprise there was indeed a note left for him. Ridge took a look. The message was enigmatic. It merely read:-

THE METAL MEN

Curious. Ridge pondered the note’s meaning. Do ridge’s rush in where JIMMY fears to tread? Ridge thought to himself.

The dead bodies were discovered by mountain rescue 16 hours after they became deceased. The police arrived and investigated. It became blatantly obvious that they were dealing with murder. Horrific murder, question now was why and who? A man as prolific as Jeffrey Palmer had lots of enemies. Particularly political opponents. The manner of death was very personnel. But the location was hardly the most easiest to get to. The recent snow had hidden any footprints. And a curious effect that was unexplained was a high level of magnetic force. As if some kind of residue from the murders?

Miranda met Ridge at one of his favourite coffee shops.
“The meeting was bollocks Ridge. Doomwatch has   been cancelled. Adam never even bothered to show. Probably to busy wallowing in self pity. Timmons   was there. I think he was behind me”.
Ridge sipped his coffee before replying.
“Well of course he was behind you my dear. Else he couldn’t stab you in the back”.
“So what now?”
Miranda asked.
“Paul is in the states feelers are out but our power is limited. Particularly if he gets to kill the hit man. Adam I fear’s demons are back. And that needs addressing forthwith. As for the L.C.F we have to wait and see what their next move is. However Eve seems to be stable and hopefully will make a recovery. Thank God”.
Miranda considered Adam’s words.
“I see. So it’s all good then”.
“In the meantime do the term metal men mean   anything to you?”
“I’ve heard of a metal mickey”.
Miranda replied.
“No metal men. It doesn’t matter”.

It was midnight before the group met. Lead by A former junior minister it included various scientists and officials. There were seven of them in total. Until recently there were eight.
“For God sake Hallet why have you called us here?”
“Listen to me. Palmer is dead murdered. We’ll be next until we work out who knows”.
Professor Hendry was the self-elected leader of the group. He had the dominant personality and the iron will.
“The project was the past it is forgotten”.
Another tried to argue. Hendry silenced them by hitting a wall. His hand bled from the impact.
“You idiots. Listen to me Palmer was half way up Snowdon with his girlfriend. The killer was immensely powerful and there was a large magnetic field present. What the hell is that if not the metal men?”

The group were shocked. Had the murderous fruits of their once hard labour returned?

“But the project was discontinued who could possibly have the technological understanding to restart the programme?”
A nervous scientist asked.
“Remember McArthur. He was involved with us. In the 1970’s he nearly transposed his mind into a machine. Dr Spencer Quist persuaded him that the loss to his humanity would be too great, but the AI technology he was working on was recently recreated by the LCF. They seek power and domain. If they do indeed have the power to place a human mind within a system maybe even the Internet then there would be no limit to the power and knowledge they could   possess. They could have reactivated the metal men”.
The words fell like a barrage of bullets.
“So the metal men have been created. And are now being controlled, to kill!”
Elderly statesmen cried.
“Come on the metal men were always going to be used as killers. Regardless of their other potentials for good. There strength was not just confined to their physicality. Unlike humans they don’t suffer psychological disorders. They can be trusted to kill and not mess up, or breakdown or turn the gun against their superiors. We created unthinking killers. Now someone else has the metal men. And we are all on a hit list!”

Ridge paid a friend a visit. The friend was Ralph Moatman a former influential figure many years ago in the cabinet. Ridge suspected if anyone knew what the metal men were it would indeed be him.
Ralph greeted Ridge with open arms upon Ridge’s arrival. The two embraced and Ralph opened a fine wine he was saving for special occasions. After much pleasantries and Ridge promising a game of chess Ridge decided to ask about the metal men.
“Yes, I believe I remember the project”.
“What was it Ralph?”
“Well John, it was the 1960’s everyone was optimistic and more willing to invest in the future. We had the nearby promise of the moon landings. The Russians had already orbited the Earth and concord was being put into production. But we still had the threat of wars. WW2 still hung around the air like some virus and there was Korea, the cold war and troubles stirring in the Far East. Governments were becoming more aware of psychological disorders soldiers could   suffer from. It was felt perhaps a programme could be initiated to create a new type of soldier”.
Ridge looked confused.
“A new type? You mean an artificial soldier?”
“Yes Ridge. A programme was planned. Robotics was still limited but it was felt at the time that   sufficient funds and the right group of minds could indeed come up with something. There were lots of   investors too. I believe a group was set up but I don’t think it got too far. The group was disbanded. That was it”.
Ridge wondered. Could some one have completed the metal men programme?
“Why do you ask John?”
Ralph asked. Ridge smiled.
“Curiosity you know how it is”.
“I know it killed the cat John”.
Ralph smiled followed by Ridge.
“I suspect there’s more to it though old boy”.

Ralph stood and opened up a nearby cupboard. He pulled out a few sheets of paper and handed them to Ridge.
“What are these?” Ridge asked.
“I picked up some strange, rogue radio signals recently”.
“How recently?”
“The night Jeffrey Palmer died. At Snowdon”.
“Radio signals. The same radio signals that might be needed to control a metal man perhaps?”
Ridge asked. Ralph sipped his wine.
“I see once again John you’re way ahead of me”.

Ahmed Patel, once a man now so much more and yet little. He had been used by the LCF to become a new life form. An AI with almost limitless power. With him they thought they could spread their message. But he never wanted to be used in such a way. He was angry and resentful. He was plotting his revenge.

Carly the head of the L.C.F was pleased with recent “progress”. Doomwatch had finally been smashed. All factors had been predicted with 100% success rate. All was going to plan. And yet…she was concerned about the power Ahmed technically now possessed. Too much perhaps? But in time he too could be dealt with. The world will listen to the L.C.F. Just as Clive Sellers always predicted.

Professor Hendry sat alone in his study. His mind relentlessly turning over and over. He had a revolver with him. Suddenly he heard the doorbell go. Nervously he stood with his revolver and approached the door.
“Who is it?” he called.
“Delivery Sir”. Came the slightly cockney reply.
Hendry hid the revolver in his pocket and approached the door. Suddenly a metallic fist cracked through the wood and painfully connected with Hendry’s face. He fell back his nose broken. The metal man broke into the house. Hendry managed to fire one shot before the metal man was on top of him. Once again the metal man cut the throat.
Ridge examined the radio signals, which Ralph let him have. The truth was Ralph was just a curious as Ridge as to their origin. Ridge recalled his knowledge of radio waves. He remembered that they were a form of electromagnetic radiation and that they travel at the speed of light. If the radio waves were strong enough they could indeed be reflected in the ionosphere. The secret to the metal men was to discover if the signal was indeed strong or localised. The metal men programme was developed in secret in Southern England. Presumably the project was abandoned before a superior band of radio wave was developed. So the metal men are limited to the UK. Whether the frequency was strong enough to cover the whole UK was also debateable.

Ridge opened a draw and pulled out an atlas covering the whole UK. He began to study it. He cross-referenced the signal of the radio beam. It was a strong but narrow bandwidth as if it was being disguised to blend in with TV, Radio and other localised frequencies. This made the trace hard but the frequency had a limited life span. As if once the metal man had killed Palmer and his girlfriend and cleared Snowdon it was probably deactivated and collected in a nearby vehicle.

So they’re being very careful. Perhaps not the LCF then? If anything the LCF has thrown caution to the wind in recent weeks. So who the hell is controlling them? Ridge thought.
There was a knock at the door. Ridge raised his head. He then hid the files and the maps. He then slowly headed towards the front door. He saw a tall silhouette. Ridge opened the door.
Timmons was standing there.
“Haven’t you got somewhere to be?”
Ridge asked roughly.
“I could say the same to you. You were the one who send Paul packing”.
Timmons replied.
“Is this a social call? No wait a minute you might be of assistance. Come with me”.
Ridge led Timmons down to the study area where he produced the atlas and the file on the radio waves.
“What’s all this for?” Timmons asked.
“A long shelved government project that some mad people have recently hijacked without asking   permission for their own dubious means”.
Ridge replied.
“Radio signals?”
“The sort people wouldn’t think to look for. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of the metal men have you?”
Ridge asked.
“Were they a post punk band from up north?”
Timmons asked. Ridge shook his head.
“Dear God and you people are in charge of national security. The metal men were a project into the possible use of robotics in certain war zones of high pressure. Controlled at least in the developmental stages by radio waves. The death of Jeffrey Palmer was a metal man I believe, someone has activated them again”.
“When were you going to tell someone Ridge? This isn’t solitaire you’re playing”.
Timmons answered. Ridge shook his head.
“I gather from Miranda Doomwatch is over?”
“I tried to get the minister to reconsider”.
“I see. With no avail?” Ridge asked.
“It seems the decision has already been made. I’m afraid Doomwatch is no more”.
Ridge stood and walked to the other end of the room.
“However Ridge it seems you might have a case   regarding these metal men”.
“And the LCF? And the others?”
“Ridge, we tried. At the moment all I can offer is an investigation into the metal men”.
“Perhaps if somebody at the inappropriately named intelligence had been doing there damn job properly then something could already have   been done!” Shouted Ridge.

Timmons didn’t argue back. The truth was the destruction of Doomwatch had knocked the energy and will out of him. He merely stood up with decorum and picked the radio signal file up.
“Ridge, please believe me…I did try”.

Timmons then turned and left the room. Ridge sat back down. He began to tap his hands frantically on the table then he stopped. He then hummed and then tapped his fingers. He then looked down at his fingers.
“They must have prior knowledge of the radio waves in that location to hide the signal…maybe….”
Ridge shot up and ran after Timmons calling his name.

The Metal Man stood motionless in an alleyway. A large white transit van pulled up at the end of the alleyway. Two burly men in unmarked clothes opened the back of the van and carried the metal man into the van and closed the doors. The van then shot off down the road.

Timmons went to see the minister. He suspected he was no longer on his Christmas card list because he tried to defend Doomwatch.
The minister read the make shift report Timmons had prepared in relation to the metal men.
“You’re serious Timmons?” The minister asked drolly.
“Yes sir, there was a programme known as the metal men, the magnetic field left behind, the strength of the killer and the fact he was able to get away so quick”.
The minister tossed the report aside.
“Insubstantial silliness Timmons”.
“With respect….”
“Who gave you the case file?”
“With respect minister I don’t see…”
“It was John Ridge wasn’t it? You’d have thought he’d have something better to do at his age other than make up stories”.

Timmons was beginning to wonder if the job was worth dealing with jumped up SS morons like this minister.
“Ok Timmons. If you believe this nonsense you can make a case file. You’re in charge of the investigation. But personally I think it’s ridiculous so I’m only going to give you one week”.
“A week? For an investigation! Sir with respect?”
“Don’t preach respect Timmons show some!”

Timmons took a step back.
“I’m sorry sir”.
“Our relationship hasn’t started well. And to be honest I don’t see it getting any better. Certainly not until you learn your place! Understand! Now get out!”

Timmons collected his file and walked out. When the door was closed Timmons walked down the corridor then began to thump the wall. Over and over.

“Wanker”. He muttered under his breath.

The news of the metal men found arguably better reception at the LCF. The metal men were a defunct programme that Clive Sellers had first mentioned to her long ago. It was impractical and too costly. And to discover some rogue element now had the ability and was indeed controlling the metal men seemed impossible, and yet.
Could the unpredictability factor no longer be calculated? This was most unsettling for Carly. It also placed growing suspicion for her upon Ahmed.

Timmons gathered up Ridge and explained the situation the minister had given him. Ridge’s immediate reply was “What a dickhead”.

“Do you think there could be more political reasons why the minister won’t give me more time? Perhaps he could be involved somehow?”
Timmons asked Ridge.
“As much as I’d like to believe it Timmons sadly I don’t believe he’s involved in a conspiracy he is just anally retentive”.
Ridge replied.

“Right, so what’s the plan?”
“Some rogue element getting control of the metal men sounds so implausible. And yet we have seen it. Or think we have”.
“Oh yes another murder occurred another scientist”.
“And I’m guessing the murderer seemed very strong and there was a residual magnetic field?”
Ridge asked. Timmons nodded.
“So it is the metal men, but there’s something all wrong about this set up Timmons. If anyone would control them like this it would be the LCF surely. But this isn’t there style. Unless….”
“Unless?”
“Maybe it is the LCF? Presumably there is a hierarchy structure to them so could a fifth columnist group be in control of the metal men?”
“A LCF breakaway faction?”
“Why not we’ve seen it with terrorist groups why not them. And who knows how much information the LCF possess now. Perhaps one of them reactivated the metal men. I mean if you were going to take the LCF over you’d want as much might as you could muster”.

Timmons stood.
“I’ll start a report now for the minister!”
“Remember Timmons it’s just a theory we still need the proof”.

The metal man stood defunct in a warehouse. Suddenly the shutters came up and light poured in. Armed soldiers stood around the metal man. A scientist and one of the hit list stood with them, his name was Herbert Schell and he still carried much weight within the government. Herbert crept up close on the metal man and removed the head. He then examined it.
“Wait…this is all wrong. This metal man is not polarised?”

Timmons arrived with his preliminary report to the minister. He hoped to plead the case for the metal man investigation.
“It seems you were right Timmons”.
“Right sir?”
“A metal man was found. Standing in an East End warehouse of all places”.
“Do we know who was controlling it?”
“No one it seems. The metal man was defunct. It seems whomever the killers were they were pretending to be the metal men”.
Timmons thought hard.
“But why sir?”
“For Gods sake Timmons if we knew why then I’d tell you wouldn’t I!”
The minister shouted.
“But the strength, the magnetic field surely it would still have to be some form of manufactured death?”
Timmons asked.
“Well anyway Timmons thank you for raising the issue with me and thank John Ridge when you see him”.
“Is the case closed now Sir?”
The minister leaned back and smiled.
“Of course it’s not. But you’re not on it”.
The minister turned back to his paperwork. Timmons took his queue to leave.

Carly had received word already from LCF infiltrators. The metal men were a hoax. They had been used deliberately to spread fear and paranoia amongst the LCF. At least that was what she believed. She also knew this was not the handy work of a government. This was an inside job. This was the work of their AI. A former member of the human race selected by the LCF to become a God. He knew her psychological profile and he was bitter. Carly knew he was driving the wedge. His actions were not predicted and could not be predicted. The LCF’s super weapon was no such thing. He was Gollum a newfound bane of their existence. Carly knew she had to pull the plug. But how? The situation was still awkward. They were still waiting to see how the government would react to the end of Doomwatch. How?

“And he told you to thank me?” Ridge asked confused.
“I kid you not. And now some other department is investigating”.
Timmons replied.
“Some other operative is investigating because they don’t want a former liaison with Doomwatch investigating a case which clearly involves the LCF”.
Ridge said.
“Anyway I better be off”.
Timmons turned to leave as Ridge raised his glass.
“You did good kid”.
Timmons smiled and left Ridge’s. Ridge drunk his glass of wine and then opened a draw where he pulled out a photograph of himself and Dr Spencer Quist. A wave of sadness flowed through him.
“You did good kid”. Ridge muttered to himself alone in his own melancholy.

In Adam Quist’s cottage there was only one sound. The sound was of a broken man crying his eyes out.

FLORIDA.

Outside a nightclub a longhaired ageless man was smoking a joint with three girls. Dressed in a dirty hoodie a figure brushed passed them.

“Watch where you’re going man!”
The longhaired figured called out.

The hooded figure stopped and crossed the road. He then took his hood off to reveal it was Paul Grover. He walked passed some more bars and then stopped in a car park. He then pulled something dark tucked in his jeans. It was a gun…….

THE END

DEMENTIO13 - GRID REFERENCE

2010-12-21T12:00:00.000-08:00

Grid Reference is a hand picked collection of 8 impressive electric tracks that showcases the talents of Producer/Remixer Dementio13. Grid Reference smashes its way through various electronic genres giving a loud, proud two finger salute to ’sticking to one formula’. Dark, Fast, Deep and Mellow ‘Grid Reference’ is your Number One user guide to all things Dementio13!

Description courtesy of Yeah!

A particular highlight for me is Water Phone Acid and Freq Rez Env which both sound like they are straight from the archives of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. Freq Rez Env features what can only be described as "a psychopathic ice-cream van" according to composer Paul Foster. It's an infectious album that will have you hitting the repeat button. Oh, and lookout for some great samples along the way too!

Support our friends Dementio13 by purchasing their brand new album Grid Reference for just £6 from Yeah! today...

Scott Burditt

DOOMWATCH - THE PLASTIC RAIN TRAILER

2010-12-14T12:23:00.000-08:00

After a few requests, we are pleased to announce a new service courtesy of Vimeo

If you would like a copy of the trailer for The Plastic Rain story on your mobile device (mp4), you can now visit this site and carry around a quality piece of fan produced DOOMWATCH in your pocket! Alternatively, you can download it here

ADAM QUIST DOOMWATCH SEASON 2

2010-12-11T04:55:00.000-08:00

The new Season of the fan produced DOOMWATCH books featuring Adam Quist is nearly upon us.

The Doomwatch office has been blown up, the department officially disbanded. Paul Grover has gone in pursuit of the man who planted the explosive and killed his lover and unborn child. Adam Quist has fallen back on the drink. Eve is in a coma unsure if she will survive. And the LCF’s forces are growing….

The end?

Think again…..

DOOMWATCH SEASON 2

Featuring the bloody and shocking climax to the LCF saga…

Paul gets his revenge but at what cost to his own humanity?
Can Adam beat his addiction?
What plans does Mr Lartner have?….
Will Doomwatch be able to reform with the cutbacks?

YOU WONT WANT TO MISS SEASON 5. IF YOU THOUGHT SEASON 1 WAS GOOD….YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING YET...

With thanks to Grant Foxon

MONOSTEREO - A NEW PODCAST FROM DEMENTIO13

2010-12-04T04:10:00.000-08:00

Fans of our fan based Doomwatch audios will be pleased to hear that a brand new Podcast by DEMENTIO13, who provide music for our productions is now available for FREE download. Paul Foster explains:

Hello again!

I’ve had a bit of a break from all this social networking business due to work/life commitments; but I’m getting ready for the festive season with a bit of writing/recording, and hopefully some painting (not done any in a long time).

My Dementio13 releases on Yeah! have been delayed slightly, but should be available in the next month. Also available this month will be a free download of my live session for Greg Healey’s Dandelion Radio show. It was a cool amalgam of ambient, electro and electronic torch-songs…kind of. Partly improvised (dropping loops in and out using Ableton and playing my Alesis Fusion) and 20 mins long, it was well-received on broadcast.

My podcast is up and running too. Episode 1 was a trial run, but episodes 2 and 3 feature a wide range of music from the UK, Russia, Australia, Scandinavia and the US. It’ll keep being produced until I haven’t got the time, but new episodes should be available monthly (roughly!).
Subscribe via iTunes.

Hope you can get the chance to listen to, and enjoy, it.

Just as a quick note, I’m really pleased to have reached the 12,000 unique listeners milestone on Last.fm. I really appreciate that people are enjoying the music (your comments are most welcome) and downloading the free tracks. Thanks for taking the time to listen, and re-listen, folks. Incidentally, as my tracks are now also free at Bandcamp.com, you can download the higher quality MP3s (or Flacs, or wavs) there, rather than the slightly squelchy 128kbps MP3s at Last.fm. Feel free to raid my music cupboard!

OK then…..thats all for now. Thanks, as ever, for your support.

Click here to view the iTunes Preview or instantly Subscribe to future Podcasts here

NEW DOOMWATCH LOGO - WORK IN PROGRESS

2010-10-30T10:18:00.000-07:00

Just chucking around a few ideas for a new DOOMWATCH logo for our next fan series... Here's one I think might increase our popularity. The central emblem represents South Foreland Lighthouse as seen in the episode "The Red Sky" lol ;)

Scott Burditt

DOOMWATCH FANZINE ISSUE 2

2010-10-24T09:58:00.000-07:00

Issue 1 of the DOOMWATCH Fanzine isn't even out the door yet and work has already begun on Issue 2. This issue will primarily focus on the fan based continuation of DOOMWATCH, featuring Adam Quist.

Back in 2009, we announced the creation of a fanzine for the series will be available as a free download. Well, as the first fanzine is for charity, we will still keep this promise by offering, Issue 2 as a FREE download from from this site as soon as it is completed.

Brian Gorman poses for us on the cover as Adam Quist, (son of the late Spencer Quist from the original TV series) who is suffering from alcoholism and the loss of a sense of purpose in his life since the death of his family and with DOOMWATCH closed there seems to be no way to save Adam. That is until there is a knock on the door and a face from the past offers him an opportunity he can't turn down. If you 'd like to contribute to any future issue of the fanzine please email us

NO BIG FINISH MEANS A SMALL START

2010-09-29T04:31:00.000-07:00

Well, fellow DOOMWATCH fans, I'm sorry to say that after a long general enquiry over the past few months to the professional audio company BIG FINISH, (who bring to life many classic defunct cult British TV programmes, notably their brilliant Doctor Who range of new adventures), our marvelous series DOOMWATCH is not currently being considered for an audio reprisal. Now let me say, I hate to sound complacent, I don't often put my personal views over on the site but some things really do deserve a chance to shine.

I suppose DOOMWATCH is no different to any number of classic axed shows but it's still a real shame, as it's a missed opportunity to relive the high quality of the missing episodes (which all exist in script form) that could be produced professionally with narration by an original cast member such as Robert Powell.

Obviously, I know that the market will be much smaller without the Sci-Fi element that other potentially big sellers enjoy but surely it might be worth a go? We have a solid fanbase here and the website enjoys a healthy amount of traffic so there is interest in the series. Unfortunately, we cannot adapt the missing stories here at doomwatch.org as we do not have official permission to do so (and probably never will) so we live in hope that a professional audio company will step-in.

Should any further developments come to light from BIG FINISH they will be published in their magazine Vortex (which is a very enjoyable read) or on their website. If you'd like to add you're support for an audio revival please contact this site by leaving a message in our Forum. If you would like to write to BIG FINISH please send them a nice email to show you're support for DOOMWATCH.

Even though it's a small start, I hope you are enjoying our current range of fan produced books and our humble audio projects. With investment in new audio equipment we hope to bring you a much higher quality output in the near future. There is so much potential for new stories (pick up pretty much any Newspaper and you will spot one) if you'd like to contribute a story or an idea for a story then please let us know, we'd be glad to hear from you. If you happen to be a scientist who'd like to pass on some concerns to us, we'd love to hear from you! Please let us know if you are enjoying our current range. All feedback is welcome.

Scott Burditt

REBOP by Dementio13

2010-08-25T11:26:00.001-07:00

Dementio13 who provide doomwatch.org with music for our fan based productions, have just released their new album Rebop. You can download a copy of it here

"Making music solo is a bizarre activity. You rely on any instincts you have, without anyone else to say, “yeah, that works”, or “that sounds awful”. Sure, when you ask friends or family for their opinion, you always get the same answer; “thatʼs ok”. So its difficult to get an honest opinion. Its the same with any form of creativity; we all crave some form of approval. However, sometimes its better to just go with your gut and make music for yourself. Thatʼs always been my mantra: play what youʼd want to hear. Then its over to your own judgements of what works and what doesnʼt. I love what I do. Its the only time you can express ideas and thoughts in total isolation; and thatʼs what my music is about: memories of people, places, films, other music. It evokes these things for me. For everyone else, it will be different."

Paul Foster

<a href="http://dementio13.bandcamp.com/album/rebop">Glassface by Dementio13</a>

SHATTERBRAIN by Dementio13

2010-07-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

I'd like to take a moment of you're time to thoroughly recommend the new album "Shatterbrain" by Dementio13. One of the tracks below is going to be used on a brand new Doomwatch Fan produced Audio story. See if you can you guess which one!

1.Vodka Cadence 04:19

2.Malpas 03:28
3.Beloved 04:43
4.Mel & Mike 03:58
5.Hats 04:15
6.English Electric 02:34

7.Give Me Away 03:49
8.Casio Casino 04:45

<a href="http://dementio13.bandcamp.com/album/shatterbrain">Vodka Cadence by Dementio13</a>

“Shatterbrain’ is a journey, a soundtrack to the mundane, the simple. That’s how I see it anyway, that’s how it came about. It's not trying to be anything: generic music, ambience, fashion or fine art. What it IS is the sun streaming through the window of my studio, a moscow mule in my hand, playing with noise and insistent tunes. In fact, my lack of musicianship is only matched by my ability to hear tunes, and their constituent parts, in my head, and transcribe them into real sound. I think I may have distilled all my influences into this one package. I hope you enjoy this journey: it’s repetitious for sure, it’s jarring at other times, but it’s mine.”

Paul Foster, Dementio13

TRUE LOVE

2010-05-08T03:35:00.000-07:00

Brian Gorman (featuring our very own Adam Quist) stars in "True Love" : A GBH Production 2009. Starring: Leslie Churchill Ward, Brian Gorman, Richard Hulse. Camera: Dave Beech. Sound Assistant: Martin Molyneux. Directed by: Brian Gorman & Richard Hulse. Sections filmed in Erica Egerton's flat.

I happily discovered this little gem still lurking on my hard disk drive. It was originally on Facebook until Dave Beech shut his account. I thought people would be happy to see it again, after it's somewhat brief outing. Apologies for the low video quality, but it was ripped from Facebook. Anyway, I am overjoyed to share this, just for the classic line "Keira Knightley, bathtub full of raspberry yoghurt and I'm about to jump in" bit. The incidental music is pretty good too.

ADAM QUIST DOOMWATCH - THE PLASTIC RAIN TRAILER

2010-03-26T17:40:00.000-07:00

DOOMWATCH "THE PLASTIC RAIN" stars BRIAN GORMAN as Adam Quist.

This is a short video made to introduce a new set of Adam Quist "Season 1" fan produced stories based on a fan made continuation of the classic BBCtv series DOOMWATCH. "THE PLASTIC RAIN" stars BRIAN GORMAN. This is an adaption of the first few scenes of the debut novel by GRANT FOXON and SCOTT BURDITT. Music by Dementio13. Illustrations and Direction for the video segments by Brian Gorman. Wording and editing by Scott Burditt CGI by TARDISTIMEGIRL

Can YOU help us to produce our new fan series of DOOMWATCH?

Doomwatch.org have been working for many months preparing a whole new season of fan written DOOMWATCH stories available for FREE in PDF format under the umbrella title "Season 1". The season is a direct continuation of the original DOOMWATCH and features both new characters and old. Since then, we have been working on turning these stories into audio scripts. Brian Gorman plays the son of the original Dr. Spencer Quist who was head of the original Doomwatch in the 1970's. If you are a writer and would like to be involved in these new projects in any capacity, please post in our Forum.

NEW DOOMWATCH WALLPAPER

2010-03-19T14:59:00.000-07:00

The new Adam Quist PC Desktop Wallpaper for you to download (just click the image to enlarge). Available as 1024 x 768 px. It forms part of the promotional material for the upcoming short introductory story DOOMWATCH "A NEW MORNING"

Coming soon...

TO CATCH A THIEF

2010-02-25T08:52:00.000-08:00

Who is that guy in this video that looks exactly like Adam Quist?

With thanks to "To Catch a Thief - A Passing Phase"

DOOMWATCH ADAM QUIST FAN PRODUCED TITLE SEQUENCE

2010-01-09T13:48:00.000-08:00

Doomwatch fan produced titles

Uploaded by snhbuk. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

Doomwatch fan produced titles

Uploaded by snhbuk. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

These titles form part of the Doomwatch.org fan produced "Season 1" tribute to the classic BBCtv series Doomwatch, which originally ran from 1970 to 1972 for three seasons. The titles are designed by Karl Cleveley and the music has been specially composed by Dementio13. The logo is designed by Scott Burditt.

Watch on Youtube here

DOOMWATCH : A NEW MORNING COMIC STRIP

2010-01-06T03:57:00.000-08:00

Above, is a three page illustrated introduction to the fan produced "Season 1" of Doomwatch featuring Adam Quist. The story has been adapted and illustrated by BRIAN GORMAN (typesetting by Scott Burditt) from the season opener "The Plastic Rain" by Scott Burditt and Grant Foxon.