A Captain Scarlet and The Mysterons short story for
Halloween
By Keryn
“So, what are you doing for Halloween?” asked
Captain Blue. Dr Fawn rolled his eyes, it was not the first
time he’d been asked that question. “Not a damn thing,” he replied
cheerfully. “In fact I won’t even be on
Cloudbase for the, um, festivities.” “You won’t?” asked Blue, surprised. “No, Captain,” Fawn replied, “I’m taking some
leave. I’m going to look up an old
friend from my university days.” “Going back home then?” “Not exactly.
Well, I’ll be in Australia but not home
as such,” Fawn admitted, “I’ll be staying in Melbourne for just over a week or
so.” “Melbourne?” queried Captain Blue. “Wouldn’t a
holiday further north be better? Sunny
weather…sand and surf…the Gold Coast for instance, Brisbane perhaps…or
somewhere even on the Great Barrier Reef.” “No thank you.
That would probably be too humid for my taste, even at this time of
year,” replied Dr Fawn firmly, remembering his time at Brisbane University.
“Anyway there are beaches in Victoria if I wanted to visit any, which I
don’t. I have other plans.” “It’s still fairly warm though. You could have a nice day out in the sun,
where you could...” started Blue with
a glint in his eye. “Don’t say it Captain!” warned Fawn. “…throw a shrimp on the barbie,” concluded Blue
with a grin. Dr Fawn groaned. It was an old joke, the origin
of which was seemingly lost in time. Dr
Fawn was firmly of the opinion whoever first thought up that line should have
been shot. “You and your bloody shrimp!
It’s prawns, Captain!” “I know,” replied an amused Blue, having spent
many holidays in Australia. He couldn’t
resist saying it though - knowing Dr Fawn would always take the bait. “Why do you Aussies have to be so different?” he added for good measure
pronouncing ‘Aussies’ with a noticeable double ‘s’ sound. “We Aussies,”
replied Fawn giving the word its distinctive ‘zz’ resonance, “can’t help it if
you Yanks don’t know any better!” And that, thought Fawn, concludes the joke. I hope. Captain Blue seemed about to reply when Dr Fawn
gave him a long stare, “Well Captain, perhaps you’re here for some medical reason? Let me just look up your file…” Dr Fawn had the satisfaction of seeing the
sky-blue clad Spectrum captain beat a hasty retreat. Works every time, he
thought smugly as he walked back to his quarters to pack for the trip.
~■~ Dr Fawn, having arrived in Melbourne, collected
his luggage, checked out of Tullamarine Airport and caught the shuttle service
into the city. It was less than a week away from Halloween but unlike the
captains and Angels’ decorating efforts on Cloudbase, there were no brightly
coloured signs nor any typical Halloween images proclaiming the fact. What Fawn did see were banners advertising
Melbourne’s Spring Racing Carnival, the recent Grand Prix Motorcycle Race and a
few large posters for an opera to commence in the forthcoming week. He looked around with interest. Melbourne might not have been his home but
he’d been there a number of times during his post graduate work and later as
part of the World Medical Organisation where he had taken part in many
international conferences. Dr Fawn,
just plain Edward Wilkie for this trip, bought a newspaper and settled into his
hotel for the rest of the night. The
day had been mild and the night was expected to be too. In fact the whole holiday period carried the
prediction of fine weather. Just what I need, he thought, glad to
breathe in crisp clear air after months of soaking in the filtered air on
Cloudbase.
~■~ Dr Fawn spent the next few days visiting the
sights - everything from a trip to the Penguin Parade on Philip Island to
putting in some shopping time at Myer and some of the smaller specialist shops
in the city. The shopping component
turned into something of a trial. He
had thought of buying a few momentos of the trip but finding something
appropriate - that wasn’t made elsewhere in the world - or at the least could
be described as ‘typically Australian’ was a lot more difficult than he
imagined. It always was really, he admitted with a sigh of exasperation. He settled on a few small but select pieces
of local Aboriginal art after having to conclude, regretfully, that buying any
of the larger bark paintings from Arnham Land - the type commonly known as
‘x-ray art’ - was out of the question.
They were simply too big to transport to Cloudbase, never mind the fact
he didn’t have a wall large enough to do them justice. Dr Fawn wondered if his next trip should
include visiting Arnham Land despite the certainty of stiflingly hot weather. Pleased with his purchases nevertheless, Dr Fawn
returned to the hotel and found he had several messages. The first from the senior Nursing Officer on
Cloudbase had him wondering if anything was wrong. With the call put through he was greeted by the astonishing sight
of a witch, or more correctly a hag, complete with fake warts, a couple of
blacked out teeth and straggly greenish hair.
She wished him a Happy Halloween.
Fawn blinked in confusion. Truthfully, he’d forgotten all about it. “And
Happy Halloween to you,” he returned laughing, noting also the pointed black
hat, “I hope you are not going to visit any of my patients in that costume.” “Spoilsport,” she returned good naturedly, “I
already have and they all seemed to have survived the experience. You don’t look exactly dressed for
Halloween, Edward. Not playing the role
of party pooper are you?” “Who, me?
Perish the thought,” he returned, choosing not to explain - again - that
he wouldn’t be celebrating the occasion. “Hrrumph,” she answered sceptically, adding,
“next year you are going to be here
on Cloudbase for Halloween. OK?” “Yes nurse,” he answered meekly, a slight smile
threatening to break at any moment. “Oh you!” she laughed. “We all miss you. The
Angels and captains have asked about you too.” “Even Captain Scarlet?” snorted Fawn. “That I don’t believe.” “Even him,” she returned. “Uh oh, gotta go -
they are forming a conga line. See you in a week Edward.” She rang off. There were a few more calls wishing him a Happy
Halloween, all of which he dutifully returned. The final call was from his old colleague from
university. Dr Joshua Greenwold worked
for a prestigious international institute which specialised in cancer
research. They agreed to meet the next
day at his favourite eatery in Collins Street.
~■~
The next day Dr Fawn caught a tram into the city
and wandered around the Block Arcade for a while, admiring the historic and
very decorative mosaic tiled floor.
After a quick glance at his watch he walked down the steps to the
Melbournian - Josh’s favourite self-service restaurant. The Melbournian was not an exclusive
establishment but a somewhat understated place done up in the style of a
smorgasbord eatery of the 20th century.
In fact Dr Fawn had heard it was named for and modelled on just such a
popular place that had once existed nearby sometime during that era. Dr Fawn looked around and recognised his
friend. “What on earth do you see in this place?” he
asked goodnaturedly, taking in the vinyl tiled floor and equally unfashionable
circa 1950s style tables and chairs. Probably reproductions, he thought. Dr Greenwold considered the question seriously.
“Well,” he replied, “the food is great, it’s close to work and best of all, I
can be sure of having my meal in peace as I’m certain none of my work
colleagues would be seen dead here!” “Fair enough.
I suppose that makes some kind of sense,” grinned Fawn, “I notice it’s,
ah, somewhat inexpensive too.” Greenwold shrugged. “I guess so, but that’s not
the reason I like it. There’s something about the ambience…” Dr Fawn took a second glance around the room and
gave him an incredulous look. “I think
you must have rocks in your head,” he grimaced. “Is that a medical opinion, Doctor?” “Absolutely, Doctor! Now let’s go and chose a meal.” They talked about their university days and the
subsequent careers of fellow students, then about their current work. That is, Dr Greenwold did most of the
talking on the subject, and Fawn said very little. “That’s enough about me. What are you doing these days, Eddie?” Josh
Greenwold asked, having finally realised he’d done nearly all of the talking
for the past hour or so. “I know you left the World Medical Organisation. Still working in robotics? You seem to have vanished off the radar for
a while.” “Robotics?
Not as much these days. I have
my patients, but I’ve kept up with various fields of research too,” replied
Fawn. “Really? Who are you working for now?” asked
Greenwold. “Still with the World Government,” answered Fawn
evasively. “Hmmm.
Not allowed to say much about it, eh?” Dr Fawn shrugged, having decided to blur the
issue a little. “It’s all the research that’s hush-hush - got to watch out for
industrial espionage and the like. I’m
sure you understand. There must be
lucrative returns in medicine patents and so forth from any successful results
of your work.” “True enough,” agreed his friend, “I won’t ask
any more questions.” “Thanks Josh, I appreciate it.” “Say no more.
Will you be here for the Melbourne Cup?” Dr Greenwold asked. “I’ll still be here in Melbourne but I wasn’t
intending to go to the Cup, if that’s what you mean,” replied Fawn. “But you must! I’ve been invited to attend one
of the more exclusive pavilions. OK
it’s got some boring old medicos and a smattering of politicians and such, but
the view of the race is magnificent and the food they lay on is just
fantastic. And I have a second ticket - say you’ll come along.” Greenwold
enthused. “Oh I don’t know, Josh. Horse racing is not really an interest of
mine, as you know.” “Well I’m no punter either but this is
different! It’ll be a huge event,”
his colleague continued, “a five star chef will be in attendance and the wine
will be the very best. It’ll be
fun. I went last year and had a ball.” Fawn raised an eyebrow. “Really…?” “Oh well, I had a ‘lady friend’ who was in the
entertainment industry,” he admitted. “Very well known too, so of course she
was expected to attend. I went along as
her official escort. Doctors are a
popular accessory you know,” he winked. “I made a few contacts, hence this year’s
invitation.” Fawn shook his head. “Wonders never cease. I’m not sure though…”
“Have a think about it anyway. A few well known
research fellows will be there. Professor Kleinemann…”
“Kleinemann?
I’ve
just read his paper on cell regeneration!” exclaimed Fawn. “Are you sure he
will be there? I’d very much like to
meet him.” “Yes, he’ll be there. He’s actually a guest of the research institute. I can guarantee
he will be there.” Fawn wavered. “OK Josh, you win - I’ll go.” “Great!
You won’t regret it Eddie. I’ll
get the ticket and have it couriered to you at your hotel tomorrow.”
~■~
The night before the Melbourne Cup Dr Fawn sat
up in the comfy bed of his hotel room and cheerfully planned out his itinerary
for the next day. So far his holiday
was going well but tomorrow might just be the icing on the cake. The night had turned colder than he expected
so he turned on the heater a fraction as he sipped his cup of tea. It might be fun, he reflected, to see ‘how
the other half lives’ - with the best champagne, food and goodness knows what
else. The pavilion was probably
sponsored by one of those big multinational pharmaceutical companies. Dr Fawn realised he had forgotten to
ask. No matter - he had received the
promised invitation and there was no way he was going to miss this event. Maybe
he would even get the opportunity to speak privately to Professor Kleinemann
about his research. He quickly jotted
down some notes - just a few questions to ask the Professor if the opportunity
arose. Tomorrow, thought Dr Fawn as he sleepily settled into bed, was going to be the best day ever.
~■~
The Mysterons’ tampering with the gas heating
system was swift and effective. He
didn’t suffer but death was inevitable, given the level of carbon monoxide. In
the early morning light Fawn glanced dispassionately at the cold and stiff body
lying on the bed. He had much to do. Everything was going to plan. It was
turning out to be ‘the best day’ just as he’d predicted. A Mysteron threat had been issued the night
before and Spectrum swung into action, puzzled by its meaning and completely
unknowing of Dr Fawn’s fate. He had
been contacted of course and had promised to cut short his leave and return to
Cloudbase as soon as he was able. But
the Mysterons had done well this time - Spectrum didn’t connect their message
with the visiting dignitaries at the Melbourne Cup. Nor did Dr Fawn inform Spectrum he was attending the Cup Day
event. It was also one of those rare
times when the Mysterons’ message was full of their usual rhetoric but short on
actual detail.
While Spectrum scrambled to solve the puzzle Dr
Fawn arrived at the pavilion at Flemington Racecourse a little late, briefly
apologising to his friend for his tardiness.
“I see a few familiar faces here,” he said, “I’ll catch up with you
again later.” Dr Greenwold nodded and
raised a glass of champagne in toast.
Dr Fawn surveyed the invited guests and noted the various personal possessions
that many of the guests had carelessly placed around their seats or tucked away
in the shadows and corners of the pavilion.
It was going to be so easy,
and once again came the unbidden thought - it would be a perfect day. Fawn noted not only were there many well
known people from the medical world, but political figures including the newly
appointed Minister of Health and, he noted with satisfaction, a few other
senior members of both the Australian and World Governments. Professor Kleinemann didn’t rate a second
glance. Then the moment he had been waiting for
arrived. As the Melbourne Cup race got
underway and the horses sprang from the barriers, everyone started cheering them
on. With betting slips and raised glasses of bubbly waving about in equal
abandon, the noise was almost deafening as members and invited guests alike
cheered and shouted encouragement at their favourites, urging them to win. Dr Fawn seized the opportunity and set the
Mysterons’ plan in motion. It was quite
simple and owed much to the manner of his own death. After all, it had worked so well the night before, though this time
the method used wasn’t carbon monoxide.
In any case before the invited race goers choked under the poisonous gas
from the small but effective timed cylinders he had concealed around the
pavilion, he was already well away, having vanished into the loudly applauding
crowds. This time the Mysterons won and with the
possibility of further success within their grasp they ensured Fawn left
Melbourne ahead of schedule. A quick
call on his part ensured he was on his way back to Cloudbase itself well within
the allotted 24 hours - giving him plenty of time to implement the second part
of the plan. He arrived at Spectrum Headquarters soon afterwards. The Mysterons knew it wouldn’t be long before Spectrum had all the facts and their agent would be discovered but there might just be enough time... From the shadows Dr Fawn watched with disinterest as the captains and Angels made their way to the conference room for the debrief after the news of the deaths of several prominent government figures was relayed to Colonel White. As Dr Fawn purposefully headed towards engineering, he gazed impassively up at one of the air conditioning ducts. He really didn’t like filtered air…and he had on him the means to eliminate it from Cloudbase once and for all.
THE END
OTHER
STORIES BY KERYN
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