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| -=fig. 594: nat3=- |
“You're nat3?” Capt. Brown couldn't believe it, it was just a boy.
“Yeah, who's asking?”
Capt. Brown drew himself up to his considerable full height, “I am Captain James Brown, The Mayor, and this is my associate, Doctor Smith. You are under arrest for two counts of murder, one count of malicious hacking and city-wide damages accounting to $1427.50” Nate {the boy} blanched “The entire house is only worth about three-hundred bucks, And that's with all the stuff! What did I do?”
Capt. Brown indicated Dr. Smith, who produced his sheet of data.
“You created the 3x-TERM-1: NAT3 virus, which took hold of my production ’bots, who then went on a rampage.” Dr. Smith replaced the paper in his jacket “As one nerd to another what made you do it, kid?”
Nate had been typing late one night, while listening to Doctor Who? a science-fiction radio-play out of Britannia.
He had decided to see if he could de-construct the code of one of the main antagonists, the Daleks, because with the code and twelve Who-Flakes box-tops you could get a gen-u-ine bow-tie, just like The Doctor.
“I didn't mean to publish it, sorry.” Nate was despondent.
Dr. Smith and Capt. Brown were touched by the boy's story. A similar thing had happened to Dr. Smith when he was young, although the death toll was much larger, one reason he no-longer lived in QuagmIreland.
Capt. Brown went down on one knee and put his hand on the boys shoulder, in a fatherly way.
“You're still going to jail, kid. Sorry.”
Nate sighed. “Damn, and it was such a good story, too.” That should have set off our heroes radar, but it didn't. They hadn't heard him. He looked Dr. Smith in the eyes, “So what are you, like, the nerdy sidekick?”
Dr. Smith was surprised, “No, I'm the hero, He–” he points to Capt. Brown “–is the sidekick.”
Nate gave a big smile, like this was a joke. “What, the tall good-looking one? He's the sidekick?”
“Yeah, I am. What are you doing with that remooAAHH!—” The floor had opened up at the press of a button on Nate's remote. Our heroes fell into the dark.
-=-
 |
| -=fig. 595: finished falling=- |
“Wow! I feel great!”
“James, stop talking.”
“That must have been, what, three stories we fell? At least because this looks like a disused Undercity tunnel.” Capt. Brown stood up.
“James, I don't want to alarm you, but you just stood up out of your body.”Capt. Brown looked down.
There he was, still, with his eyes wide open. Bleeding.
He hyperventilated, which is hard with only the memory of lungs.
“James!” Dr. Smith yelled, standing up out of his body too, “Don't Panic! We're only mostly dead. It's a shock at first, but we'll have a miraculous recovery soon, just stick with me.”
Capt. Brown's breathing slowed, “Isn't there supposed to be…angels and stuff?”
“Do you believe in that sort of thing?”
Capt. Brown shrugged. “Not really.”
“Then probably not, no.”
“How come you're so calm?”
“I've been mostly dead more times than you can count, Death should be showing up any time now.”
A voice like the screams of a thousand souls and lead slabs falling into place over your grave said HELLO DR. SMITH. IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN.
“Hello again, Death, It is good to see you again. Although understand that I am saying that purely sociably and it's not good to see you again at all.”
 |
| -=fig. 596: hello death my old friend i've come to talk with you again=- |
I UNDERSTAND. AND WHO'S THIS I ASK EVEN THOUGH I KNOW THE ANSWER?
Capt. Brown Watched the exchange with interest, not only because he'd never met Death before, but because Dr. Smith was being sociable. Dr. Smith is never sociable.
“This is my friend, Capt. Brown. He's not been dead before.”
HELLO JAMES. Death gave him a little nod, one workman to another. They made small talk, Death and Dr. Smith, like old friends. After awhile, Dr. Smith said
“So what's the verdict, Death, do we die from a fall in a disused Undercity tunnel?”
NO DR. SMITH. YOU DON'T. IT HAS BEEN NICE CATCHING UP, DON'T BE A STRANGER. YOU TOO, JAMES.
The world changed and the eternal pain of living returned.
“AARGH!” Yelled Capt. Brown.
Dr. Smith laughed. “Hurts, dunnit? That's all the blood running about in your veins. Don't sit up just yet.”
“Were we…were we dead for a minute?”
“Yes we were, but we're fine now. More pressingly, we are presumably underground in a small dark room with no doors or windows.”
