Time Travel

Hey! I got ahold of a time travel device but it only has the one shot left, so this is what I decided to do. 

—Jacob

The Sunset Today

Fun With A Ray Gun

The CWA of Dr. Z Smith: Episode #114: Unremember

-=fig. 693: confrontational problem-solving=-

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Smith. We meet again.”  Stated Von TipRău. He was smiling a malicious, evil smile. Fueled, no doubt, by misguided righteousness.  “Do not take von step,  ha ha, or else your family and…only friend become saints.”

  Dr. Smith’s face contracted as he tried to work that out.

  Von TipRău sighed, “Saints are Holy, it is also a posthumous title, See? Which makes it a dooble pun, because your people would be both dead unt filled vith holes.  I did not say it vas a goot pun.”

   Capt. Brown’s index finger slowly tightened on the trigger of his gun, 

   Von TipRău swung his own gun around til it was pointing at the kid in the back, the one in the long coat.
  “Not one movement, I said. Or the last fifteen years of your life never existed. Weapons on the floor, pleese.” 

  They had no choice but to oblige.
  “Don’t vurry, I von’t kill you. yet. Hands oop, pleese.  I vill now field questions from the audience.” 

   Dr. Smith had a question. “Why are you trying to kill us?” It was a good question.

  “DON’T YOU KNOW!? YOU KILLED MY FRIEND! MY ONLY FRIEND!” This was not standard Von TipRău procedure.  Dr. Smith was taken aback, “You mean that monoid outside?  I have to say, it was better than all the other ones, you’re getting good–”

  “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!? There is only the one! The one Monoid,  Mr. Moriarty Monoid AND YOU KILLED HIM! DEAD! My only friend in the entire world! You had no provocation! Why are you persecuting me! WHY?” 

  “Oh.” Dr. Smith said. “I have another question and this is important; How many times have you attempted my life?”
  “WHAT! Today would be the first time BUT YOU STARTED IT—” BONG.

  Von TipRău slumped.
  “Stainless steel it said. I knew six dollars was too cheap, look he’s dented it with his head.”

-=fig. 694: mrs. smith=-

  “Thank you Mo–Mrs. Smith.” Dr. Smith said as he ran to Von TipRău’s side,
  “I’m not stupid you know, Zachary. Is he dead?”
  “No, he isn’t thank Jacob.¹”
  “Here, I’ll get him again–”
  “NO!”
  “HE’S A KILLER ZACHARY.”
  “Not yet he isn’t and it’s my fault.”
  “What do you mean, Zachary?” Asked Capt. Brown,
  “What I mean James, is that this isn’t future Von TipRău, it’s past Von TipRău. He hasn’t done anything yet and It’s my fault he comes after me. My fault he becomes a mad killer.  I killed his…Moriarty. I killed his James.  He’s me. Not literally, of course, but he’s enough like me for there to be a direct parallel.  Think of it like this, What if someone killed you, James?”
  “That would suck for me.”
  “Yes it would but what about me? What would I do?”
  “Well you’d hunt them down and make their life hell. Oh. And without me there to dilute you…oh my.”
  “Then let’s kill him.” Mrs. Smith said, matter-of-factly.
  “We can’t–Hold on, I need to ask him a question.”  Dr. Smith reached into his briefcase and produced a syringe.  “James, Handcuffs.” but quietly he said “Sorry Von TipRău, This is going to hurt but I need you awake.”
  “AAAHH!” Screamed Von TipRău. “AAAAHHHH!”
  “Quickly, You said I started it, when did I start it?”
  “AAAAHH–THE FILM SET–AAHH” And he stopped screaming. “Take pleasure in that did you? Beat me on the head and set my skin on fire?”
  “You were never on fire. That's just the stimulant working, your body can't handle it for the first thirty seconds. But the film set, that was the first time you ever saw me?”
  “Yes and a black day it was too you—”
  “That's quite enough.”
  “So why can't we kill him now?” Asked Mrs. Smith.
  “It’s quite simple, actually.” James replied. “You kill him now and he never tries to kill Zachary, he never tries to kill Zachary, Zachary never meets him, we never end up here and he doesn’t die.”
  “But then–” Mrs. Smith tried to work it out, “But. Um.”
  “It's called a paradox.” Dr. Smith said.
  “I know that, kid, I believe I already stated that I am not stupid, But he’s already tried to kill you!”
  “You mean young me? We already wiped his memory.”
  “Then I'll tell him–you, about it. We will keep the memory of Von TipRău alive. The vile, disgusting memory.”
  “No,” Dr. Smith said sadly, “You won't.  James, you remember any of this? You’re standing right over there, shocked and confused.”
  This was true.
  “No” Replied Capt. Brown, “I don't remember any of this. And I would remember something like this.”
  “Which means that someone wiped his memory.  Me. I am the only person in the world right now with the technology. ”
  “Wait,” Capt. Brown said, You have memory wiping technology? You never showed me that.”
  “Oh yes I did, dozens of times.  In fact, you were my primary test subject.”
  “You wha’? ZACHARY!—”
  “Mode 3 Power level 2, Jeeves.”
  And the room turned blue.

-=fig. 695: unremember=-

  “Stasis mode activated, Sir.”
  “Very good, Jeeves.  For young James and Mr. & Mrs. Smith, the day never happened.”
Jeeves set the portable memory eraser to [DAY]-[TODAY] [personal] and Dr. SMith led the victims, one a a time, to the forgetting machine, where it blinked into their faces.
  “Set it to scalpel mode,”
 [null]-[null] [scalpel]
 Jeeves opened a secret panel, which revealed a new set of options. 
  “Okay, Jeeves, For James I want him to remember everything, except that I have memory erasing technology.” 
 That was entered into the machine, and Capt. Brown forgot.
  “And for Von TipRău, he should remember only most of it, the parts where I killed Mr. Monoid, anything that makes me look bad. A sense that I took his memories, that intangibility of things unsaid dying on the tip of his tongue. We want him coming after me. But he should not know where I live.  That's important. ”
 “It's done, Sir.”
  “Good, we have to get him to romania before he wakes up.”
  “This shouldn't be a problem, Sir.” Jeeves said, he was holding a box with one large button on it.  The Button was marked “apel uşă”
  Dr. Smith pressed the button, and a blue door appeared in the middle of the room.
  “Of course.” Dr. Smith said, “Ludwig Aufenstein invented The Door!  And the Deus Ex Machina Co.!”  He opened the door,  Inside was a dark room, things bubbled, machinery turned, and electricity crackled. “It leads to his laboratory. Chuck him though.”
  Jeeves Picked Von TipRău up by the seat of his pants and the back of his collar, and threw him bodily through the door.  He was about to toss the remote in too, but Dr. Smith stopped him. “We don't want him to have access to the history of this door.”  Dr. Smith opened a secret hatch on the back of the remote. Another, tiny button and the warning: “distrugere-doar de sine utiliza în caz de urgenţă!” 
  “Close the door Jeeves.”  Once the door had disappeared, Dr. Smith pressed the self-destruct button.  Thin coils of smoke came out of the remote’s casing. 
  “It's done. Help me carry James to the time machine.”

-=-

  ¹ Pronounced ‘iacob’.

The Original Sonic Screwdriver {Illustration}

This morning's graphic design project. 

EDIT: Just realised that, no, this isn't the original sonic screwdriver. It is in fact only the latest Screwdriver, But it is the one on my desk and I was casting about for words to type in my pretty font I found, Black Rose [AKA the Vimeo Font] so Original it is. this is, after all, the first illustration of this sort I have made.}

Then & Now

The CWA of Dr. Z Smith: Episode #111: Yesterdays

KnockKnockKnockKnockKnock

  “I'm Coming, I'm coming.” Replied Mrs. Lisa Smith. 

 She opened the door.

-=fig. 682: the cat=-

  “Zachary?” She asked. “What's this?”
  “It's not a ‘what’ ” Zachary replied, “It's a ‘Who’. His name's James, I found him on the street. Can we come in?”
  “Zachary, What have I told you about pets?”
  “He's not a pet he's a–”
  “This isn't one of your…Projects…Is it?”
  “Projects? No, He's a real person, His name's James. James…?”
  “Brown. James Brown, Ma’am.”  James Didn't mind standing on the porch as these huge swaths of dialogue flew past, but he wished the porch was a bit more interesting.
  “Brown?” Zachary asked incredulously, “Really?  James Brown? That's one step removed from John Smith.”
  “Oh yeah?” Replied James, “So what's your last name?”
  “…Smith.”
James laughed.  He had an nice, deep laugh. Completely incongruous with his kind of squeaky child voice.
  “Well…I guess you can come in. But wipe your feet.”  Lisa could see that this street person had ‘Dirt’ Written all over him. In Grime.
  “Thank you very much, Ma’am.” James replied, as he conscientiously wiped his boots on the mat.  It took some doing, but he managed to get most of the dirt off.
  “C’mon, James,” Zachary said “I want to show you my room.”
  “What did…”
  “Mrs. Smith.”
  “…Mrs. Smith mean when she called me ‘One of your Projects?”
  “I make stuff.”
  “What sort of stuff?”
  “Everything.  Mostly electrical things, but also some chemical engineering, monsters, robots–”
  “You mean…she thought I was a monster? That you made?”
  “Yeah, I was getting pretty good at making them right up until, um, I stopped. ”
 James decided to let that particular subject lie. “So, robots, huh?”

-=fig. 683: mk1=-

  “I call him–” Dramatic pause “Jeeves!”
  “Kinda small, innie?”
  “You would say that. You're huge, But watch this.”  Zachary ran to the control panel that took up the majority of the back wall, yanked a lever, turned a dial, and set a valve. The robot started humming.
  It jittered.
  It shook.
  It beeped.
  James stepped back. This looked…kind of dangerous.
  Jeeves took a jerky 90° turn, and raised one arm to his fore-brow.
  “BEEP” He said.
  “Is that all he can do?” James asked. It was sort of an anti-climax.
 “Well, yeah.” Dr. Smith replied “It's actually surprisingly hard to program him to do things. That–thing–he just did? Took me an hour and a half.”
  “You mean he doesn't just do stuff by himself?”
  “Autonomy?” Zachary scoffed, “That's the dream, the dream of every robotic engineer ever!  I can't program in autonomy! Robot language is hard enough as it is!”
  “You mean it's in a whole ’nother language?  What's wrong with Legopolian?”
  “You can't program a robot in Legopolian.”
  “Why not?”
  “Because…um…you just…don't. They only understand ones and zeroes, you would have to translate Legopolian letters into…that wouldn't be too hard, actually. Hold on.”
  He typed something into a nearby computer monitor.
   “Done, but I'm going to need something with more keys–” He spotted an old typewriter. “Perfect.”

-=later=-

     BEEEEEP            BEEP
“BEEP,      BEEP    BEEP    BEEP, BEEP BEEP 
              BEEP,                        BEEP."
  “Oh legopolis, Legahhhhp-o-lis,” James muttered absentmindedly.
  “AH HA HA!” Cheered Dr. Smith.  “By typing in the notes, I got him to sing the national anthem! Yay! This new robotic language will revolutionise the world! No more binary! At least, not on top.”
  “So is he Autonanana…can he think for himself, now?”
  “No. But it's only a matter of time.”
  “What if you did, say, this:”  James reached over to the terminal and typed:
+VAR.JEEVES=STATUS.POWERON+
++<RUN>SCRIPT.AUTANANANA++

  “How do you spell that?”
  “A-U-T-O-N-O-M-Y. But it won't work, James, because you're referencing a script that doesn't exist.”
  “Is that important?”
  “Yes.”
  “Alright, humour me, then.” And he kept typing.  He had figured out how to write the language from watching Dr. Smith invent it.

+VAR.JEEVES=STATUS.POWERON+

++<RUN>SCRIPT.AUTONOMY++

+++<IF>SCRIPT.AUTONOMY=STATUS.RUNNING+++

+++++<REPEAT.UNTIL>USER.ZACHARYSMITH=COMMAND.[JEEVES+STOP+BEING+AUTONOMOUS]++++

//++/NEWLINE/++//

  “Okay, We need a complex thing for him to figure out with his autananamy.”

  “This won't work, but um, here. Put in…let me.”

//++/NEWLINE/++//

+<RETRIEVE>OBJECT.TEACUP+

++<END.LOC>USER.ZACHARYSMITH++

 “There.” Zachary pressed the Carriage Return key, and the code was uploaded into Jeeves.
 “That dosen't seem all that difficult of a task, retrieve a teacup?”
 “Trust me, it is.”
They watched Jeeves.
At first, nothing happened.
Then, something did.
Jeeves lifted his stubby robot legs and stomped across the room.
He reached out both his arms, for he didn't have fingers {or even claws,} and gently grasped the teacup.
He then stomped his way across the room, until he was standing in front of Dr. Smith.
Then he dropped the cup and it smashed on the concrete floor.
Zachary was dumbfounded.
He had worked for months learning binary, teaching his robot simple things, terribly difficult simple things, and this…stranger comes in, not even a genius stranger, and in an afternoon they had a completely autonomous robot.
But what really got him was that they did so by referencing a file that does not exist. 
  “Are you a genius? A Savant?”  Zachary Smith asked, staring disbelievingly into James’ eyes.
  “I…Don't think so. I would know if I were, wouldn't I?”
  “It's just, to get that sort of behaviour, I usually have to start with some sort of organic brain or something.  But I've abandoned that method ever since we had to leave Quagmireland because of it. Organic brains are finicky, too randomized. So I made another robot, a new one, a completely mechanical one. But all these things understand is binary, so I learned binary, and it's hard! Really hard! And then you come in, no experience, and all of a sudden we have a new language, a simple one, and my completely mechanical robot is thinking for itself!”
  “You sound, are you angry?” James asked.
  “No.” Zachary replied, “Just don't ever leave!”
James looked at the completely insane child sitting next to him, and said “Well, I have to. I don't live here.”
  “You know what I mean.”
dingdongdingdong dingdongdingdong 

  “No, Don't get up.” Mrs. Smith grumbled, “I'll just get it then, shall I? It's not like we have servants anymore. Oh no, Wait, I forgot. You have me.” She was in a bad mood. 

  She opened the door. 

  “We don't want any.” She said. 

-=fig. 684: Sunt vânzarea acestor clone amendă piele=-

  “Oh, no! You misunderstand me, madam, I am here for Zachary Smith.” The stranger had a Romanian accent. 

  “Which one?”

  “There are more zan von?” 

  “Yes, there is a big one, who I'm married to, and a little one, who's my son.”

  “Oh, I am Looking for ze little von. He's a…friend…of mine.”

  “Figures. ZACHARY!” She shouted over her shoulder, “ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR WIERD FRIENDS IS HERE, Please, come in Mr.…?”

  “Von TipRău. But pleese, Call me Villiam.” 
  “Well William if you'll just–”
  “Villiam. Vith a ‘V’.” 
  “Oh, Okay, Villiam. Please Sit?”
  “Zank you.” He sat at the table. 
Zachary Morton Smith, Zachary Smith's father, came into the room carrying some boring papers. “Hi honey.” He said. “What do you make of this?  I say they're all exactly the same machine, But I need a second opinion because–”  He saw the guest. “Who's this?” 
  “Dear,” Said Lisa, “This is Mr. Villiam Von TipRău, He's here to see Zachary.”
  “Oh,” Said Morton “Nice to meet you Villiam, Names Zachary, Zachary Smith. But you can call me Morton, Everybody does.”
   “It's a pleasure, Morton.”
    “Ah, Romanian!” Morton said excitedly, “You don't happen to know Ludwig Aufenstien the brilliant scientist, would you?”
    “I am he. Von TipRău is the name zat I travel under, to avoid ze crowds, you know. Don't tell anyone I'm here.” He gave a smile like the last part was a joke. 
   Morton was overjoyed. He couldn't believe it. “You're really Ludwig? Or should I say Mr. Aufenstein? EEE! I have every paper you've ever written! Your study in the journal of scientific research on the hyperactivity of subcutaneous psychoanalysim? GENIUS! Wait right here, I'lll get it for you to sign OH MY GOSH!” He ran out of the room. 
  Mrs. Smith sighed. “Sorry about that, my husband gets a bit…excited about stuff sometimes. Which is weird considering the line of work he went into.”
   “Patent clerk.” She said in reply to Von Aufenstien's inquiring look. “Probably the world's most boring job.”

-=-

-=fig. 685: dinner party=-

“Ah, Zere you are my boy!” Said Von TipRău with a huge smile, “So nice to be seeing you…again.”
“I don–
“And Who's your friend?”
“This is James, In fact, we were just going outside to test this robot's–
“Just what I Vanted to talk to you about, You see, I'm having trouble with a robot of my own I vas vondering If you could help me.”
“Really?” No one had ever asked Zachary for help before, this was new.
“Yeah, he's just out back–Zat, is, if you'r mother say is alright?”
Lisa gave a brushing hand motion, as if to say ‘Off with you.’
They exited out the back door.
“So,” Zachary said, “Where's the robot?”
“About that, ” Von TipRău said, “I lied. Mr. Monoid?”
“Right Boss.” said Mr. monoid, as he grabbed Zachary.
“What, hey! Hel–”
“No you don't.”

-=fig. 686: kidnap=-

Happy 10/10/10

Tweet

Happy 10:10, on 10/10/10! 

  This moment won't come for another…twelve hours. 

    But after that, This moment won't come for another 100 years! 

 So enjoy it. 

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 54: Ronald Daveu

Last week as you recall,  the Colours of Legopolis had been replaced, and the city restored to its former, non-monochromatic glory.
  But one loose end remained, Ronald Daveu, famed explorer and founder of Legopolis, who was paying a social call to Dr. Smith.
 The problem arises when we realize this man is supposedly long dead.
  And yet he drinks earl grey.
   Ron had become separated from his true time by an unlikely series of events, {See ep. 50: The Black Planet} which in the end brought him here; Dr. Smith's kitchen, eighty-five years after his death.

 "Yer house is bigger'n the inside." Ron said, quite eloquently for him.

-=fig. 362: a newly remodeled kitchen=-

Dr. Smith had noticed this.  "It is… Jeeves," He addressed his robotic manservant, Jeeves. "When did this happen?"
  "I couldn't say for sure sir.  If you recall, I was debilitated for most of our most recent adventure.  But I have taken the liberty of exploring our new abode, and as such have discovered that behind each of these three doors behind me are three further doors, the one you have just entered from {which invariably leads back here,} and two others, each of which contains another three doors, continuing the pattern.  So far we have five bathrooms, eight bedrooms, a pool, and a library.  Furthermore, it is my opinion that I have yet to explore every corner of this house's labyrinthine proportions."
   It was at that moment that the window above the center door behind Jeeves sprung open, and a skeleton jumped out.

-=fig. 363: four of the clock=-

 "Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! " It said, before being sucked back into whatever machine it came from.
    Everyone stared at the spot where it had disappeared from for a moment.
  "That t'were disconcertin'."
    "I would have to agree with you on that point, sir."
   Dr. Smith did not share that opinion however.
       He was smiling,  A rare occurrence for him.
        "That was awesome!"  Ron and Jeeves stared at him.  "What?  A skeleton in goggles just flew out of a window in my kitchen!  And then it Cuckooed!"  Jeeves gave him a worried eye, "Very…Good.  Sir."
  Dr. Smith turned to Ron, "Mr. Daveu, if we're going to be getting you back to your home time, I need to know what year you live in. "  Mr. Ronald Daveu, famed explorer and founder of the grand city of Legopolis, was a poor and illiterate man who never learned to read or write, and was mainly concerned with getting back to his wife and their small cabin, deep in the backwoods of what would someday be Main Street Legopolis.
 "I dunno." Said Ron.
   "You Don't know what year it was?"
     "Nope."
  Dr. Smith could tell this was going to be tricky.  Ron Didn't know what year it was when he got left, neither did Dr. Smith.   He couldn't think.
  "Mr. Daveu, you have waited nine years to return home,  you are going to be waiting a bit longer.  This tar is beginning to harden into my clothes and soon I won't be able to move at all."  It was true, He was caked in black, gooey tar.  Ron smelled worse, however.
  "And look at you, you must want a bath…or two.  Jeeves here seems to know where the bathrooms are."   Dr. Smith Turned on his heel, and set off for the yellow door.  There were three doors, a yellow one, a red one, and a blue one.  Before he reached it though, he was stopped By Jeeves.
 "Sir, Take this."
  "What is it?"
   "A Sandwich."
     "Oh."
      "And this is a map I have taken the liberty of drawing up.  It details as far as I have explored, be sure to add your findings to it.  Take good care of it.  The sandwich is for your journey, you may eat it."
         "What would I do without you Jeeves?"
           "You would die, Sir. At the hands of an evil Romanian or the tar of his planet, or you would trip and fall, cracking your head open like a watermelon."
              "Very true Jeeves.  This everything?"
                 "Yes."
  Dr. Smith opened the yellow door, walked through and closed it behind him.  He was then faced with a choice, Yellow or blue?  He was in a small room, with no windows or furniture. Before deciding, he turned around to face the door he had just come through.  From this side, it was red.  He chose the second yellow door.
   This room was resplendent in red, with luxurious velvet draperies, and a view of the ocean.   Which didn't add up because Dr. Smith's house was nowhere near the ocean.  It was near a cliff.  And yet there the ocean was.  This room is what a real-estate professional would call a 'suite', and suites always have bathrooms.  So Dr. Smith looked around for one.  He found the yellow door first, and opened it.  It was an incredibly fancy bathroom, with dozens of shiny knobs, a porcelain tub, and three sinks.  Why anyone would need three sinks escaped Dr. Smith,  but they were there.  There was also a  small cupboard filled with fluffy white towels, and one laundry chute.
 Dr. Smith opened the laundry chute and looked down it.   It was dark, and seemingly never-ending.  It also sucked gently, as if powered by a vacuum.   Dr. Smith threw his clothes down, and they were whisked away.
  He then discovered that there were knobs over the tub for hot water, cold water, lukewarm water, green water, purple water and bubble bath.
    There was also, next to the tub on a little shelf, a small yellow rubber zombie. Which squeaked when you squeezed it.  Dr. Smith thought this was hilarious.

-=-

 When Finished with his shower Dr. Smith walked out to the main room of the suite.  His clothes were laid out, folded, and pressed, on the bed.

 He put them on and opened the other door.  The blue one.

-=fig. 364: the worlds best closet=-

It was a closet devoted entirely to hats.
  Or to be specific, one hat.  Dr. Smith's prize winning fedora, dozens of them.  All identical.  Dr. Smith carefully grabbed one, and looked it over.
  It was perfect.
     He tried it on,
        It fit.   It was as clean as a new hat and as comfortable as an old one.
 Dr. Smith smiled. 

-=-

 He walked across his new room, and was met with the door he had come through to get here.
   It was somehow more luxurious from this side.  And again, it was red.   The redness was a navigational aid, if ever you got lost all you would have to do is keep taking the red door until you were back in the kitchen.  The kitchen seems to be the hub of this maze.   When back in the kitchen Dr. Smith took a look around,  there was Jeeves, serving a stranger a cup of Earl Grey tea,  there was the skeleton at the dinner table, there was the–Wait, who was Jeeves serving a cup of tea to?   Dr. Smith looked closer.

-=fig. 365: earl grey=-

No it was Ron.   Dr. Smith hadn't registered him when he walked in the room because the Man didn't look like Ron.  For one thing, his skin was a different color.  And for another, the only overpowering smell in the room was that of lilacs.  Lilacs are always a non sequitur.  
  "Jeeves, Why does it smell like flowers in here?"
     "It was the strongest soap I could find, Sir.  And Mr. Daveu here does not believe in baths."
      "The smell keeps them invisible flesh-eatin' demons away."
 Dr. Smith nodded, this was a common back-country belief.
   "Daveu, you are a fairly important figure.  You don't know it yet, but you are.  That means that when you went missing someone was bound to have noticed."
     "I assume me wife would'a noticed."
       "Right, and she would have sent someone to look."
         "There's a problem with yer thinkin'.  There ain't nobody there for 'er to send."
          "No other people at all?"
            "No."
              "Okay, so our cutoff point's 1893.  That's when the first settlers came.  Anytime behind then is irrelevant.  How many winters had you and your wife been married?"  Ron held up three fingers.  "Okay, that should be all the information I need.  Jeeves, do we have a records room?"
  "To be honest Sir, I just got here myself."
    "So what you're saying is that you don't know."
      "Correct, Sir."
        "But the house will acommodate to our needs, right?"
          "Ah, I see Sir.  It is 'Worth A Try' "
Dr. Smith cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled up to where a ceiling should be: "ATTENTION HOUSE, I NEED A COMPLETE RECORD OF THE HISTORY OF LEGOPOLIS…PLEASE. "  The Please was added as an after thought, on the Silent suggestion of Jeeves.
  Almost immediately there was a low rumble, like something big and heavy being slid into position.
   The rumbling stopped.
     The Macabre Cuckoo sounded off five times, then retreated for another hour.
  A small white light above the center of the three doors lit up, indicating that the red door had suddenly become important.
  Dr. Smith looked quickly at Jeeves, who shrugged.  He then walked over to the door.
    It was a room of records; books, papers, clippings of newsprint and handwritten notes highly organized and tightly packed on floor-to-ceiling shelves.   The room itself wasn't very big, just a couple of yards square, but it was incredibly tall, so tall Dr. Smith couldn't see the ceiling. There was a ladder on rollers provided,  and every 10 feet or so there was a railed landing.
  Dr. Smith was struck dumb.
    For a moment.  The information he needed was about the very beginning of Legopolis,  so it stood to reason it would be on the very first few shelves.
   He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he found it in the diary of one Lisa O'Callaghan.  The name gave him pause, because Lisa O'Callaghan was his mothers name.  But his mother had been named after some distant ancestor, perhaps this was that selfsame one.  He flipped through most of it, until he came to this entry:
  "  April 12, 1890. 
         Dear Diary, Ron went off hunting three days ago, he has yet to return.  I fear something dreadful has befallen him, but I shan't worry for he has been gone off longer than this before.  Oh how I do hope he comes back …" It was at this point where Dr. Smith's eyes glazed over.  It had turned into some mushy girl stuff, with the words that jumped out being "love"  "draperies"  and the all-time favorite, "I fear if he doesn't come back soon I shall have to chop the wood myself as the fire is dying and it is getting cold. If the fire goes out the wolves will be at the door!"  Dr. Smith skipped forward a couple of days, and Ron still wasn't back.  He skipped forward a couple of months, nothing.   It was then when he decided that April 12th, 1890 was the day Ron had fallen into the black planet.
  With his date set, he returned to the kitchen.
    "Ron!  I have found the day you left and I'll be ready to go in a minute."
      "How'd ya find the day?"
        "I found your wife's diary.  How come she didn't change her name to Daveu?"
            "I honestly don' know.  Something about her obscenely rich family not lettin' her."
  Dr. Smith took the remark about her family being obscenely rich with a grain of salt, because Ron had never seen more than about ten dollars at a time, which admittedly in 1890 was a huge sum.
   "HOUSE?  I NEED A DOOR TO THE GARAGE…PLEASE."
 The light above the red door lit up.
"Thanks house.  Alright Daveu,  follow me."  They arrived at a brightly lit platform high above a field of flowers.

-=fig. 366: the time machine=-

"It don' look like much."
  "Yes, well.  Neither do you."
   "Sir, I would like to come."
     "No Jeeves."
       "Sir, my prime imperative is to keep you alive, to protect you from dangerous things like wormholes and rugs. And I can't protect you if you're eighty years in the past."
          "Jeeves you found me on a different planet, I don't think eighty years will make much difference.  If you're really worried ask the house for a time machine and follow me.  See you in a minute."   Dr. Smith climbed into the cockpit, Ron crawled into the crows nest.
  Dr. Smith fired up the engine, which involved quite a bit of actual fire, and they disappeared.

-=-

   They flew over the woods, Ron pointed out his cabin and they set down.
  Ron climbed out.
    "Thanks…"
      "Dr. Smith, Dr. Zachary Smith."
       "Thanks Dr. Smith.  If'n it weren't for you, I'd still be stuck.  In that…Dark place. With the tar. So Thank you." 
  Dr. Smith nodded.  "Goodbye Ronald Daveu."  And with that he disappeared.
 Ron set off at a run, using his rifle as a walking stick.

-=fig. 367: running home=-

  He ran.
    He ran.
        He Ran.
 The branches of trees stung as they whipped him.
    He Didn't feel them.
        He ran.
 He had made it!
    He was home!
       Lisa was feet away!
  "Lisa! Lisa I'm home!"  He called.
      No one answered.
       He opened the door,
         there was no one home.
 He circled the grounds,
  and ran into a man.

In seconds the man had a rifle, fully loaded and ready, inches from his face.
 "Where's Lisa!" Demanded Ron.
    "Who?"
      "The Woman who lives here!"
       "Oh.  Her.  The Woman and th-the little boy haven't lived here for months."
The pit of Ron's stomach fell through to his feet.
  Months.
   "What little boy?"
     "Sam, I think his name was.  Could you get that gun out of my face?"
       "No.  Why did they leave?"
         "Um…a…man on a horse came by and convinced…Lisa…To go with him.  He had some kind of long, stupid name like…um… Duke Callaghan.  If you could just…not shoot me.  That would be great.  I promise, I bought this house fair and square."
  Ron put his gun away.  Duke Henry O'Callaghan was Lisa's brother.  A weasel if ever there was one.  The only place they would go would be The Big Castle in Quagmireland, Where the O'Callaghans were from.
  Dr. Smith.
He could get him there in his…doohickey.  Maybe he hadn't left!
   Ron Ran back to the field,
    Dr. Smith was gone.

"I hate them rich people."  Ron said.

-=-

  "See Jeeves, I came back.  In good time Too!"  He checked His watch,  "See I've only been gone Five minutes!"
   "A day and five minutes, Sir."

     "Well, obviously we need to work on that.  On a side note, I'm really hungry."
        "I'll fix you something to eat sir."

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 53: The Final Confrontation

Last week as you Recall,

  "YOU!" Dr. Smith said,

-=fig. 354: the next world leader=-

"Nice cape."

  "Thank you, doctor." Said Von TipRău, with no recognition of the sarcasm. "It befits ze next ruler of the Vorld, don't you think?"

    "TipRău, you'll never be the ruler of anything."

      "You are wrong, doctor, for I am ze ruler of zis vorld, zis hellish little vorld.  When I come here, zis vas de beautiful shining city on ze hill.  Now gaze upon the putrid ruins of my empire.  Bah!" He spat.

    "Von TipRău, I'm tired, hatless, homeless, and covered in tar. Now, return the colours of my people or else."

     Von TipRău glared at Dr. Smith like only an arch villain can, "Vhy? Vhat vill you do about it?"

 Dr. Smith had to admit, he was at a loss for plans.

"Now, doctor, vitness my rise to power vonce again!"

Dr. Smith was escorted quite rudely outside, Where the nefarious machinations of Von TipRău's crazed mind were waiting.

-=fig. 355: a familiar device of  diabolical purpose=-

"It's The Giant red Machine!  But it was destroyed!"
   "In Fact, it vasn't, doctor Smith.  I merely teleported you and your friends avay from it, I'm surprised you didn't notice."  Dr. Smith was about to dish out a snappy response, when a cannonball whizzed though the air, to strike the earth inches from Von TipRău. 
 "Vhat!"

-=fig. 356: the cavalry=-

It was Capt. Brown and Ron in a commandeered MMM, "James!" Shouted Dr. Smith overjoyed at his friend's return.  "Hey Zachary!  We'll be down in a minute, Ron, keep firing."  Alas, Ron, while enthusiastic, was not a very accurate shot, and many cannonballs failed to meet their mark. One of the cannonballs, by sheer dumb luck, struck Dr. Smith's guards, But before Dr. Smith could get away,  his doppelgänger, without looking, pulled a gun to his head. "Don't even think about it."  He said.  Von TipRău took the opportunity in this commotion to sneak away to the controls of the Giant red Ray machine.
  "Mwah! Ha Ha! When I flip this switch, the whole of my plans will be complete!  I shall Finally rule ze vorld!"
 Dr. Smith just looked at him, "What is your plan?  All you can do, really, is create holes in reality with that thing, dangerous, yes, but not world-domination ready material."
 "Holes? You zink holes were ze plan?  Ze Holes are a side-effect! Zis, Zis is da plan!" What that he made a sharp ninety-degree turn and fired at Capt. Brown and Ron.

-=fig. 357: over-saturation=-

Capt. Brown and Ron were instantly vaporized. "Vith such Power, your vorld vill bow unt mine vill be reborn!  I shall be the ruler of all!"Dr. Smith was shocked at the sudden death of his only friend, and Ron, his distant anscestor.  Strangely Dr. Smith hadn't died, but he hadn't time to ponder that as Von TipRău was rambling on about something.  "…And with zis machine, the tar will be fought back from it's death grip on my planet, and I'll be the ruler of something vorth ruling!"
 "Come now Von TipRău, call off your goon.  If you let me go I'll give you a fair fight."
   "Zat is exactly vhat I"m afraid of Dr. Smith, I've been in a fair fight vith you, and I lost.  No! I shall be keeping you vhere you are zank you."  Von TipRău then proceded to busy himself in the levers and switches that are required when you operate a giant multi-coloured laser.
  A soft click, like that of the firing mechanism of a small-caliber revolver being readied for action.

-=fig. 358: jeeves to the rescue=-

Dr. Smith looked over his shoulder, "Jeeves!" he said. 
"Good afternoon sir, I noticed my reinforcements hadn't turned out as I hoped so I took matters 'into my own hands,' if you will. Mr. Doppelgänger, I firmly suggest a modicum of movement if you would like to retain whatever gray-matter you have left, sir.  Also, I would recommend that for your own well-being you keep your hands where I can see them and drop your weapon, if you please."  Doppelgänger did so. "Thanks Jeeves."  Dr. Smith said, with relief, "Keep him covered."  "Very good sir."
Dr. Smith, freed of all death-related restrictions, looked around fervently.
What he was looking for was a master control panel, of which there is always at least one.  Especially in places such as this.
  He spotted it.

-=fig. 358: master control=-

He pulled as many levers as possible, but nothing happened.  Then he had an idea.  All of the colours of legopolis were stored in a glass chamber.  A glass chamber that last time he was here, was a teleporter.  Now if he could just… Ah. There it is.  L…E…G…O…P…O…

-=-

A humming started up in the background, not a tune, but more the sound a huge piece of machinery would make.  Von TipRău, preoccupied as he was with setting his giant laser to 'World Domination' didn't notice.  In fact, he was so involved that he didn't notice the brown figure sneaking up behind him.  What he did notice, though, was the sharp blow to the head.  "That's for nearly exploding me." Capt. Brown said. "Zachary! Where are you?" 

  "James?" Dr. Smith's face lit up. "You didn't die!" 

   " 'course not. Ron's O.K. too, the blast just missed us, did a number on that flying thing with the cannon though." 

     "What happened to Von TipRău?" 

      "A sudden and inexplicable sharp blow to the back of the head." Dr. Smith nodded approvingly.  "I'm surprised no monoids tried to stop me, actually."  They both looked around.  There were no monoids, anywhere. They were just gone. 

   "James.  Where did you leave TipRău?"

     "Right where he fell, the floor of the cockpit of the giant red laser." 

        "I'll give you two to one odds that his body is missing." 

  It was. 

        "We won't find any MMM's in the harbor, and I just bet he left some sort of–" at that very moment a voice came out over the loudspeaker: "THIS PLANET VILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN TWELVE MINUTES.  SO LONG, HEROES. I VILL BE BACK, COUNT ON IT. ELEVEN MINUTES."

"Hey," said Capt. Brown, "does that mean that he's still here someplace?"
  "No it's probably just a prerecorded message.  Press those, would you?"
   "All of them?"
     "All of them.  Then make sure you know where Mr. Daveu is." Over his shoulder he yelled:  "JEEVES, IS DOPPELGÄNGER STILL OUT THERE?"
      "I assume so sir, but I believe he is deceased." 
        "What makes you say that?"
          "The way he collapsed into thousands of tiny squares. Sir."
 Dr. Smith uttered a fairly strong expletive. "Well, No time to worry about that now.  Tell me when the colours powering the machine disappear."
"Very good Sir." a second later, "They're gone. Sir."
  "Good. James, Have you found Mr. Daveu?"
    "Right here with me Zachary."
      "We only have time for one shot so stand clear of wherever the machine is pointing."
  "ONE MINUTE."
"59 SECONDS"

-=fig. 359: 11 seconds=-

"Are we all ready?"
 "Well–"
   "8 SECONDS."
     "Good!  Jump through, quick."
 They jumped through, just as a world exploded.

-=fig. 360: the end of the black planet=-

Dr. Smith dusted himself off.  "well, that was certantly enthralling.  James," he turned and shook Capt. Brown's hand. "Thank you for the help. I appreciate it.  Mr. Daveu, we'll get you back to the late 1800's as soon as I get myself cleaned up, Jeeves will make you a pot of tea.  Jeeves?  Make him a pot of tea."  Nobody heard him as they were too engaged by the colours falling from the sky.  Dr. Smith noticed them, but being a scientist at heart he merely registered them as a prior mistake. "Yeah, I think I got the height wrong. James, don't let anybody handle these clolours without gloves, once they seep into the ground they should be fine, but until then they highly toxic and will over-saturate your…Can anybody hear me? "
 It really was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

-=fig. 361: like snowflakes=-

The colors tumbled through the sky like giant multi-coloured snowflakes.  Everything they touched sprang back to life, and like the first snowflakes of winter, they drew a crowd.  Everyone wanted to touch one, but Dr. Smith warned them off.  He shouldn't have bothered as the colours were only dangerous when contained in the colour-sponges the monoids brought with them.  Those sponges had burned up during teleportation, and without sponges the colours drifted freely.  Once they had dissipated Legopolis basked in its new glory for moment, then settled down.  "Well," Said Dr. Smith, "That was interesting.  Jeeves, I believe a pot of tea is in order."

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 50: The Black Planet

Last week as you recall, our own Doctor Zachary Smith was falling.

 Quite the fall, actually.

"JEEEEEEEVES!"

  It would kill a regular person, 

"JEEEEEEEVES!"

  In fact it would have killed our own Doctor Zachary Smith, if it weren't for the gunk.

"JEEEEEEEVES!"

  Technical term.  gunk.

"JEEEE—splat."

    Now, you must understand that Dr. Smith did not say "splat" It was a stage direction.  A sound effect, if you will.  Dr. Smith flailed about in the thick, gooey tar until he hit shore.   It was then that he took stock of his surroundings,

-=fig. 344: the shadow world=-

     They were black.

  Not for want of lighting, but for want of color.  Well, and lighting.  Dr. Smith took stock of his surroundings from a reclined position, the black tar that he had landed in had siphoned his energy and all he felt like doing was sleeping.

 Soundly.

  But not being one for sleeping, usually, he made a last ditch effort to crawl as far as he could away from the tar, which was difficult because the whole place seemed to be covered in the stuff.  His prize-winning fedora had fallen off somewhere along the way, most likely sucked into the terrible goo which covered this god-forsaken place.

     Dr. Smith finally collapsed, face-down in black goo.

-=-

-=fig. 345: a rude awakening=-

     Dr. Smith was awoken by the sound of a kettle boiling over.

As Dr. Smith negotiated himself into an upright position, he noticed his shadowy host had poured the tea into two faded pink glasses.

 "Thank you." Said Dr. Smith as his host handed him his cup.

  "*grunt.*" Said his host.

   "Can you talk?"

    " Yep."

     "Thank you for saving me."  Dr. smith gave a weak smile.

      This was returned with a grunt, then The Man slurped his tea through his teeth without taking his eyes off Dr. Smith, as if he expected him to pull out a sword and run him through. 

"You don't talk much do you?"

 "Nope."

  "What's your name?"

   "Ron DaVeu."

    "I'm sorry, did you say rendezvous?"

      "No.  Ron DaVeu."  Dr Smith was taken aback,  he'd expected the famous Ronald DaVeu to be, well, taller.  And more eloquent.  Also, given the sheer quantity of places named after The Great Ron DaVeu, you would expect him to bathe once in awhile, which obviously wasn't the case as the smell was very nearly unbearable.  To distract his mind from the smell, Dr. Smith took a drink of his tea.

  And then spat it out.  It was terrible.

 "Great tea!"  There was no sarcasm in his voice, merely pain.

"How did you get here little man?"

  "My name's Dr. Smith.  I fell.  From the sky."

Ron growled.

"You don't believe me do you?"

  "I believe you little man.  I fell from the sky too.  I was traveling in the woods.  There was a hole, a square hole that I didn't see 'cause 'twas covered in leaves.  I stepped on the leaves and" –pause for a *growl*– "ended up here."   Ron's voice was as rough as gravel, and he had a permanent scowl as if he were ready to chop off your head at a moments notice.  It should also be noted that the cup he was drinking from was pink and had a small, happy kitten embellished across the front. 

  "Where'd you come from, kid?  Before this black place took ya?"

 "Legopolis City."

  "Legopolis ain't a city.  Tain't more'n my wife and me's cabin."

   "Your wife?"

     "Dame Lisa O'Callaghan the first.  Her family has money.  Can't see why she married me.  Idiot."

      "Probably loved you."

        "Hrghm. Ain't seen her in more'n nine years.  All on account of this <expletive> place."

         "Well! Lets get you outta here!"

          "How do you suggest that?"

Dr. Smith Thought d=for a moment,

 "What's in these letters?"

    "They were here when I got here.  Dint read 'em 'cause I can't read. Burned 'em 'cause I was cold.

 Dr. Smith Picked one up and read it:

Dear Mayor: The Darkness is coming! ITS COMING SAVE US!!! 

 DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE MONOIDS!!!  Their <expletive> Guns shot off me leg yesterday and by Jacob it hurts like the blazes of hell!

Sincerely, 

 FRED.

"Ah! this was the mayors office.  Ther're usually pretty high up, how high up are we?"

 "Two Feet.  That black stuff you were floundering in is like tar.  And It seeps in from everywhere.  Hardens in a day or thereabouts."

  "I don't suppose you found a small leather briefcase out there?  Probably near where I fell?"

   "Nope."

    "Well, now we're stuck.  I don't know what to do."  This was very hard for Dr. Smith to admit, being brilliant he usually knows what to do.   A plan for everything, that's our Dr. Smith.  A plan usually named after a city.  

  "At least there aren't any animals out there that will eat us."–This was punctuated by an unearthly roar.

   "Don't worry kid.  They don't live long in this muck."

    "What are they?"

    "Ain't got no idea.  They're big and have hellish teeth.  Better'n those Monoids though."

     "What are they doing here anyway?"

      "Dunno, don't care."

       "I'll bet you that if we follow them back to their base they'll have a way out of here.  They're in my Legopolis too.  The Monoids, I mean."

          "Where are you from?   I've never seen ya in Legopolis."

          "I'm pretty sure I'm from your future.  Legopolis turns into a grand city, with streets and everything."

Ron met this with a growl.   The roof started to leak black muck, the same tar that's outside.

 "What is this stuff?

  "Dunno.  Sticky, black and it gets everywhere.  Steals yer energy if ya' let it touch ya'.  Works a treat for sealin' up cracks in the ceilin'."

 Dr Smith watched as Ron took a glob of it in a handy mitt and spread it over the slice of ceiling where the tar was getting in. 

 "How did all that get up on the roof?"

  "Rains down from the sky every once in awhile.  Nasty stuff."

  "We need to get out of here.  Quick."

  "How Do you suggest?  Walkin' don't work for long. Wheels gum. Boats don't move.  Lucky I'm tough and you were in my foragin' pattern else you'd never be alive.  And the stuff boils up  like you wouldn't believe. Get caught when one of those blows and you're dead. "

    "How do those Monoids get around?"

    "Well, uh.  They have this–"

-=fig. 346: the marvelous monoid moving machine=-

A small, slow smile breaks across our hero's face as Ron tells him about the Monoids marvelous machine.

 "I have a plan!'

 Join us next week at 4:10 G.M.T. For our next exciting episode:

Episode 51: The Taking of The MMM

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.