When the stars shine down at
Christmas There’ll be peace across all lands And all the children’s laughter as
they clap their little hands Will make everybody happy that it’s
Christmastime at last And the perils of the world are a
thing now of the past. “Oh, not
that again,” Captain Grey complained as the jaunty tune started on the
music channel broadcast. He reached over and grabbed the remote control, turning
the sound setting to mute. “Can you
believe that someone gets paid for writing and producing that stuff? It’s banal.” “Somebody
must have thought it was a good idea,”
Melody Angel said reasonably. “And
at least it’s for charity.” “And that
excuses everything, does it?”
Captain Magenta remarked, looking up from his magazine.
“I mean, if there was a televised … bull fight, or a whale hunt for
charity - that’d be okay?” She rolled
her eyes. “Don’t be silly. Nothing’s getting hurt.” “Except my
poor, innocent ear drums,” Captain Grey observed wryly. “At least
they can sing,” she replied swiftly
and hummed a few bars of the offending song.
“And it’s a catchy tune; I think I’ll download it to the music banks.” “Make it for
the Amber Room only. Please?” Grey pleaded. “Oh, don’t
be such a grump,” Melody exclaimed.
“Christmas is a time to be charitable, so cut them some slack, Brad!” The trio
were sitting in the Officers’ Lounge on Cloudbase one November morning and the
TV broadcast had just announced that the novelty Charity Christmas Single
performed by the cast of the hit TV show, ‘Captain Starlight of PRISM’ had
become the biggest selling download globally, less than 24 hours after it had
been released. “I suppose
if it raises money for a good cause, I can live with it,” Grey said, with a
smile at the young woman. “It’s more
that I know we’re going to hear precious little else until Christmas and, you
have to admit, Nolie, it is going to get repetitive.” She nodded
and grinned back at him. “I’m sure
if you ask at the Spectramart, they’ll supply you with ear plugs, Brad,” she
said, laughing. Captain
Magenta glanced at his colleague and remarked, “Better suggest they get in a
bulk shipment, Brad. I suspect
your ears won’t be the only ones suffering by Christmas.”
Colonel
White sat for some time after the confidential phone call ended, fuming with
anger and trying to come to terms with the latest directive from the WP’s office
in Futura. President
Roberts, currently languishing in the doldrums at the polls, was looking at ways
to raise his profile and boost the popularity of his senate supporters in
advance of the mid-term elections.
Unlike his immediate predecessor – the much-missed President Younger –
Roberts was a no-holds barred politician, not averse to courting the popular
vote to ensure his continuing domination of the World Senate. He wooed the press, courted the TV
networks and liked to show his common touch by associating with TV stars and film celebrities, although in reality he was a fairly humourless man with an
acerbic tongue and a stubborn streak that made working with him difficult and
compromise impossible. White sighed
and shook his distinguished head, and when he spoke his voice was tinged with
resignation, “Lieutenant Green, where are the captains?” Lieutenant
Green took a quick look at a screen and punched a button. “They’re all in the Officers’ Lounge,
sir,” he replied, glancing at his commanding officer.
“Shall I put them on screen?” “No; I think
this is better done in person; they’re not going to like it. Ask them to wait there, Lieutenant.” He picked up
his uniform cap and locked down his workstation, before strolling over to the
door and leaving his chief communication officer looking after him in
bewilderment. “I really don’t know,” Green insisted in
response to Captain Ochre’s third time of asking. “He just said you were all to wait there for him. And that you weren’t going to like it,”
he added mischievously. Green was
the epitome of tact and diplomacy, but even he liked to get his own back on the
base’s practical joker when he got the chance.
He raised an eyebrow. “What have you been doing that you don’t want
him to know about anyway?” “None of
your business,” Ochre retorted good-naturedly. Captain
Magenta cut in, “What you never knew you can’t be penalised for not reporting,
can you?” “Well, as long as I’m not going to get the
blame…” Green said. “No way,”
Ochre assured him. “Anyway, who mentioned blame?” “Not me,”
Magenta chimed in. “Nor me,”
Ochre asserted. “Okay, I’m convinced. You’re both as pure as driven snow,”
Green said ironically. “Now who’s
the gullible one?” Captain Grey
said, grinning. The
conversation ended as the door slid open and the colonel walked into the room. The captains
came to their feet, standing to attention. “Be seated,
gentlemen,” White said, taking a seat between the two groups of officers. The
Officers’ Lounge was rarely as bedecked with Christmas decorations as the Amber
Room tended to be, and as everyone had been incredibly busy over the past weeks,
this year was no exception. There
were two rather subdued garlands on a wall, and someone had woven tinsel through
the abstract metallic artwork – unofficially known as ‘the scaffolding’ - that
formed a feature of the room. A
rotund plastic Santa was impaled on one of the prominent stakes, his jovial face
seeming to wear an expression of pained surprise. It is, White supposed, as he looked around
the room, a nod towards the festive
season, at least. He studied
the attentive faces of the men gathered around him. On one side sat Captain Ochre, his face
wearing such a carefully neutral expression that the colonel was instantly
alerted to possibly impending mischief. Next to him sat Captain Magenta, his usual
field partner and co-conspirator in whatever shady plans Ochre had in mind.
Magenta was much better at dissembling, and he was keeping his glance away from
his partner and apparently studying the decorations with interest.
Beside them, Captain Grey, the eldest and most decorous of the squad,
looked relaxed and returned his commander’s glance with equanimity. Across the
table from them sat Spectrum’s premier team of agents. The partnership of Captain Blue and
Captain Scarlet had developed into a deep and lasting friendship and the pair
were usually to be found together – even off duty.
The bond had been forged out of the dangerous missions they’d undertaken
together, but even so, they still had their differences. Scarlet’s
intense blue eyes met White’s piercing glance with a slight frown. He was already starting to grow anxious,
whereas the more laid-back Captain Blue was wool-gathering and looked to be
miles away on some private daydream. White
cleared his throat and had the satisfaction of seeing Blue straighten up and
concentrate. “Gentlemen,”
the colonel began, “I have just received orders from the World President that
will impinge on us all.” “What does
he want us to do?” Scarlet asked.
He’d had a previous run in with Roberts, who was well-known to be uncooperative. “He wants us
to play hosts, on Cloudbase, to him and his entourage for the broadcast of his
Global Network Christmas message.” “Can he do
that?” Blue asked quickly.
“Spectrum’s charter commits us to political neutrality.” “He claims
this is not a political event, but merely a goodwill message to the countries of
the World Government,” White said dourly.
“I don’t think we can shirk it.” Scarlet
grimaced. “So when is he coming to
record this message of goodwill to all men?” “It will be
a live broadcast on Christmas Eve.”
The officers reacted with alarm. “And he will be bringing guests with him to
underline his non-political theme.” Colonel White’s irritation was obvious from his
tone and the officers shared concerned glances. “A
presidential party on Cloudbase – live on TV?
I see scope for one almighty disaster somewhere, and I’d bet money we’d
get the blame,” Ochre protested. “I wouldn’t advise the President to even try
it. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Undoubtedly, Captain,” White agreed, “I have already tried to reason with
President Roberts - especially when I heard who the guests will be.” The five men
all looked towards him and Colonel White drew a deep breath before breaking the
bad news. “He’s
bringing the cast of the TV show ‘Captain Starlight’,” he said glumly. “So they
can sing their charity song live on air.” It took some
time for the hubbub to die down. “I have remonstrated with the President,
Captain Blue,” the colonel reiterated, in the face of his officer’s continuing
appalled protests, “but he’s determined to do this. He says because the real Spectrum agents
can’t appear on the broadcast, it would be an excellent joke to pretend he was
really under the protection of PRISM.
It will keep the event ‘light-hearted’ and non-political, according the
President. He advised me to ‘loosen
up’.” “Then why
can’t he make the broadcast from their studio? Civilians on Cloudbase would be
bad enough, but actors? That’d just
make it worse. And what actors!”
Blue moaned.
“They’re not
so bad – well, most of them aren’t,” Ochre interjected. “We’ve met them, Blue, you haven’t.” “That show is an insult to Spectrum, Ochre.
Bringing them here will only make it look as if we endorse their fatuous
‘adventures’. Besides, this is a secure base,” Blue
retorted. Colonel
White nodded. “You have a
point, Captain Blue,” he said.
“However, the President guarantees the actors will make no attempt to deviate
from the pre-arranged, non-secure areas we’re to make available to them. I’m sorry – Roberts is adamant he wants
to do this. He says that he’ll be fulfilling the words of the song, which I
understand are, ‘when the stars look down at Christmas’?” Several heads nodded confirmation.
“Because that’s what they’ll be doing: the TV stars, looking down on the world,
from Cloudbase,” the colonel explained with some bemusement. He added with just a touch of cynicism, “And of course, there are Senate
elections in the offing and he wants to get himself noticed.” “This is
worse than that calendar they wanted to do,” Blue continued with surprising
vehemence. “At least that didn’t
pose such a security threat to Cloudbase. I suppose there’ll be a film crew as
well and minders and make-up people and Lord-knows-who coming with them?” When the colonel nodded, Grey rubbed his
nose and said, “That does make a helluva lot of people to keep track of,
Colonel.” “Not to
mention the disruption and problems it will cause us on Cloudbase,” Blue added. “The
programme is still very popular; even on Cloudbase there’ll be more than enough
people who’ll be anxious to see the stars and get autographs or have their
pictures taken with them,” Scarlet agreed.
“But I agree with Ochre, most of the actors aren’t so bad.” “There will
be no fraternisation allowed,” the colonel snapped firmly. “And definitely no photography. To a large extent we can control what the
film cameras show and I will be ordering Lieutenant Green and his support staff
to rig a delay in the system, so that Spectrum can vet the footage and obscure
any image that is too revealing, be it of an individual or of the base. It is simply not possible to do that with
numerous individual cameras. No one
on base will be allowed to take photographs and nor will the visitors. Roberts wants his publicity and I can’t
stop him from ordering us to comply, but I can prevent this turning into a total
security disaster. And I will.” The officers
around him nodded in agreement.
Several of them had specific personal reasons for not wanting their faces
seen on global TV, quite apart from the overall security blackout that Spectrum
imposed. The colonel
continued, “Nevertheless, although these people may be our unwanted guests, they
are guests and they’ll be treated as such.
But that does not extend to permitting any ‘Starlight groupies’ to become
involved in the event. They arrive,
they broadcast and they leave.” “Oh blimey,
I’d forgotten the ‘Twinkles’ on the base,” Scarlet said sombrely. “Twinkles?”
the colonel asked. “That’s what
they call the fan base, sir,” Scarlet explained. “From the rhyme, ‘twinkle, twinkle little
star’? Twinkles… they seem to
think it’s cute. There are quite a few of them on base, ranging from the Angels
to the cleaners.” “Good Lord,
this is far worse than I realised,” White said mournfully.
There was a
bush telegraph on Cloudbase that disseminated news with a speed and accuracy
that never failed to amaze Colonel White.
He had not clamped a security notice on the information about President
Robert’s visit – nor the names of his guests – but even so, he was astonished to
discover that in the canteens that evening everyone was talking about the visit
of ‘Captain Starlight’ to Cloudbase. A devoted band of fans were already putting
together a request that everyone who wanted to should be allowed to meet the
stars, and work had started on banners of welcome, intended to decorate the
hangar bays. Lieutenant
Green reported a surge in electrical demand when the programme was broadcast and
all over the base people crowded round the screens to watch the show. Captain
Scarlet and Captain Blue had the promenade deck to themselves as they perched on
the low wall and looked out over the long runway below them. “I can’t
believe the colonel’s going to let it happen,” Blue said moodily. He was immune to the magic of Captain
Starlight and, whereas Captain Scarlet could at least see the funny side of it,
he found the whole show distasteful. “Hey, it
could be worse. They’ll only be here
for a comparatively short time and they’ll be contained in the Hangar deck until
they go to the Conference Room. The
only other places they’ll be allowed are the Officers’ Restaurant and on the
Prom Deck. You know the colonel will
ensure everyone gets checked with a Mysteron detector and all the equipment will
be checked too. The base will be on
amber alert. What could do wrong?” Blue gave
his friend a sceptical glance. “How
many times have you said that and we’ve had a crisis on our hands?” “Not that
often,” Scarlet maintained stoutly.
“Look, Adam, you’re going to have to get used to this idea and go with
the flow. I don’t see what you’ve
got to get so uptight about, really.
It’s just a dumb show, a bit of fun – that’s all.
The Twinkles will get all excited, true enough, but then it’ll be over
before they know it.” “Cloudbase
isn’t a stage set. Spectrum’s
purpose isn’t entertainment and none of us are as moronic as the ‘heroes’ of
that show, but we’ll get tarred in the public imagination with all the negative
things that go with ‘Captain Starlight of PRISM’.”
Blue looked at his friend and could see the scepticism in his expression.
“Okay, I’ve made my point, I’ll shut up about it, but you can’t expect me to
like it.” Scarlet gave
a rueful shake of his head. “No, I don’t expect you to like it – you got that
right, at least.” Blue gave an
apologetic smile. “Just call me a
party-pooper. I’m sorry, but I can’t
shake off a feeling this is asking for trouble.” Scarlet
smiled. “If it is asking for trouble it isn’t us asking for it, and whatever happens, Spectrum will deal with it.
Don’t we always? Now, come on, Party-pooper, the show
should be over by now, and you should be safe from having to watch it.” Scarlet
stretched as he stood up and waited for Blue to pick up his radio cap. With a friendly chuckle he punched the
bigger man’s shoulder and shook his head. “Come on,
let’s try the Amber Room. We might
as well get the précis of this week’s episode from the prettiest TV critics
around.” “SIG,” Blue
said, sounding much happier at that thought.
Rhapsody and
Destiny were deep in conversation as they entered the room. Symphony
looked up from her magazine and smiled.
“Hi guys.” “Where did
you two get to? I thought you’d want
to watch the show and suss out the competition,” Rhapsody teased, reaching a
hand out towards Scarlet. “I’ve met
the competition and I know I have got nothing to worry about,” he replied,
polishing his fingernails on his tunic, with affected modesty. Rhapsody
laughed and dropped his other hand.
“Well, you missed a scorcher.
Starlight and Rue were trapped in an underground cave with a biotronic
bomb about to explode. They escaped
with seconds to spare.” “Saving the
world in the process, I suppose?” Scarlet asked. Rhapsody
nodded. “What on
earth is a biotronic bomb?” Blue asked.
He’d walked across to where Symphony sat. “Ah, that is
a bomb made of nasty germs and bacterias, and when that infects someone it makes
them go all old and wrinkled!” Destiny explained. “The evil badmen of the week tested it
out on one of the Seraphs, but Starlight found a cure and restored to her her
youth and beauty.” “Yay!
Go Starlight!” Scarlet exclaimed, laughing across at Blue. “You see, it couldn’t possibly be based
on anyone we know. I know I could never have found a cure
for something as dreadful as that.” “Plastic
surgery?” Blue suggested, earning himself a dig in the ribs from Symphony. “Don’t be
such a wet blanket, Adam,” she warned him.
“You’re going to have to be nice to our guests when they get here. I’m rather looking forward to it. Some of those actors are pretty hunky.” “Oui,” Destiny agreed, winking an eye
suggestively. “Who knows what Santa
might give us into our stockings this Christmas?” The other
Angels laughed. “Blue’s
worried about the security aspects,” Scarlet remarked, adding in support of his
partner, “He does have a point.” Symphony
stood up. “Sure he does, but he also
has a chip on his shoulder.” She
rested her hands on Blue’s shoulders and mimicked sweeping away the metaphorical
chip before she stretched up to kiss his cheek.
“Take me to supper, Harvard, and I’ll listen to you moan about Captain
Starlight all you want?” she suggested. “Don’t
encourage him, Symphony. I’ve only
just managed to get him to change the subject,” Scarlet teased. Blue gave a
wry smile and escorted his fiancée out of the Amber Room. “Do you
think he has a chip on his shoulder?” Rhapsody asked Scarlet. “No, I think
he has a point; but he’s going to have to accept that we have no choice.
The World President arrives tomorrow and his guests come too.” “I wonder if
they’ll bring us all presents,” Destiny asked, with a slight pout. “We have none to give them.” “They’ll get
to eat Christmas dinner on Cloudbase, that should be present enough,” Scarlet
said. “I just hope nothing does go
wrong, that’s all.”
The WAAF’s
Presidential Jet Number One taxied down the runway and rumbled off into the blue
Caribbean sky. On board were an
excited group of actors, film technicians, Presidential aides and the World
President himself. Andrew
Roberts was a difficult man to get to know and had a reputation of being a
bastard to work for. He did,
however, have an unerring sense of how to win public approval, and an ability to
turn on a fountain of charm when faced with an election husting; but when it
came to winning debates and getting his own way, he was an unyielding and
unashamedly Machiavellian politician.
Many of the world senators, who had never had to work with him during his tenure
as Leader of the US Congress, had voted him into the world presidency expecting
an easy-going exponent of compromise.
They had received a shock when the new president had quickly introduced a full
and controversial legislative programme. He was
getting most of it through as well, but the mid-term elections, which were due
in the New Year, threatened to reduce his level of support in the senate to
below that of an effective working majority.
Instinctively, Roberts had launched a charm offensive and began a series of
public engagements designed to remind his wavering supporters what a decent chap
he really was; and if that meant associating with brash, vain and intellectually
challenged actors, then he was prepared to make the sacrifice. Right now he was sitting sipping champagne –
which he disliked – listening to Drake DeBonnaire, the actor who played the
eponymous Captain Starlight, regale everyone with stories about himself. Most of the
actors had moved away, but there was a crowd of the President’s aides listening
with flattering attention to the popular actor. Although Roberts continued to sit
amongst the group, an attentive expression on his face and laughing on cue, he
had long since stopped paying attention to DeBonnaire’s self-absorbed monologue. Instead he
was ruminating on the likely reception he’d receive on Cloudbase. He knew Colonel White disliked his idea
for the Christmas broadcast, knew that he was taking a risk – however slight –
with the security of Spectrum’s headquarters and the dedicated personnel who
lived on board; yet the positive publicity it was bound to attract was – in his
opinion – worth every risk. Spectrum had
sent Captain Ochre down to Glenn Field with a Mysteron detector and everyone
making the trip had been tested, checked and searched for possible weapons.
The colonel had insisted that everyone be tested again on their arrival, and a
quick glance out of the window showed two Angel Interceptor jets flying guard. Captain Ochre was in the cockpit
flying the plane and, excusing himself to the unconcerned DeBonnaire, Roberts
made his way onto the flight deck. Ochre turned
round to see who it was. “Hello, sir.
We’re making excellent time. Our estimated time of arrival is fifteen
minutes.” Roberts
nodded and smiled at the co-pilot, a young Spectrum lieutenant, dressed in a
yellowish-brown coloured tunic. “May I
present Lieutenant Topaz, sir,” Ochre continued, seeing Roberts’s glance. “Pleased to
meet you, Lieutenant,” Roberts said, with a nod. He indicated the Angel Jet visible from
the cockpit window. “I see Spectrum
are taking no chances, Captain.” “No, sir.
Nothing’s being left to chance.
We’ve learned a lot about what the Mysterons are capable of, although there’s
still a great deal we don’t know, of course.
We’re not going to risk any kind of attack.” “That is
comforting. Of course, I know only
too well that the Mysterons like to play tricks and games with us –“ “Deadly
games, sir,” Ochre amended with severity.
“It’s a War of Nerves with them; they aim to make us sweat.” “Quite,”
Roberts said sourly. He wasn’t used
to being interrupted. “But so far
we’ve stayed one step ahead of them.” “Yes, sir,
but sometimes it’s only by the skin of our teeth, and that’s why we don’t take
risks.” “I’m sure
Cloudbase must be just about the safest place for me to be,” Roberts retorted. “Possibly;
but take into account that it is a huge aircraft carrier, floating 40,000 feet
above the ground. That’s a long way
to fall, should anything happen.
Sir.” Roberts’s
response was cut short by an incoming message from Angel One: “Angel leader to WAAF PJ One: come in
please. Routine check-in.” “WAAF PJ One
to Angel Leader, Spectrum is Green.
Over,” Topaz replied and turned to look out at the gleaming, sleek white
plane that had come alongside. He
waved. “Angel Leader to WAAF PJ One:
Concentrate on your flying, Lieutenant.
Angel Leader Out.” Ochre
chuckled. “Now look what you’ve
done,” he said to the grinning lieutenant, “You’ve gone and upset Melody Angel.” Topaz
shrugged cheerfully and turned back to his console. A few
minutes later the radio crackled into life once more. “Cloudbase to WAAF PJ One, we have you on radar. Visual contact in eight minutes. E.T.A.
Cloudbase, ten minutes.” “SIG,
Cloudbase,” Ochre replied. He turned to the World President. “If you’d like to resume your seat, sir,
I’ll be making the announcement to fasten seat belts very shortly.” Roberts bid
them a polite goodbye and wandered back into the main passenger lounge, where
DeBonnaire was still addressing a somewhat diminished audience of admirers.
A young air stewardess and a tall steward were encouraging people to return to
their seats, and for the first time Roberts noted that they were wearing
discreet Spectrum logos on their dark-green service tunics.
It seemed as if Spectrum had replaced every one of the WAAF personnel with their
own agents. He resumed
his seat and prepared for the landing on Cloudbase.
Colonel
White, wearing his dress uniform, led his senior officers, who were all
similarly attired, down to Hangar Bay One, which had been decorated and made
suitable for receiving their VIP visitors aboard Cloudbase. All the
colour captains were present, and the Angel Squadron was represented by Symphony
and Harmony, the two pilots currently off duty.
The two young women, dwarfed by their masculine escort, walked together,
and their voices were the only ones to be heard as the party moved through the
corridors heading for the lower levels of the base. “I
understand the World President is a countryman of yours, Symphony,” Harmony
remarked. “He is not as popular at
home as President Younger was.” “More than a
countryman,” Symphony responded with a grin.
“He’s an Iowan too. In fact, he comes from my home town – Cedar Rapids.” “Really?” Harmony thought for a moment and added,
“I suppose even Presidents must come from somewhere.” Symphony
chuckled. “I guess so. Andrew Roberts is about the only notable
thing to come from Cedar Rapids though.” Captain Blue
chipped in, “What about Grant Wood, the artist?” “Well, sure,
but that was centuries ago,” she argued, and he wasn’t born there, he just lived
there.” She gave her fiancé a disapproving frown and he responded with a genial
smile. “I mean if you’re going to
dig up every celebrity that ever drew breath in the place, the list might be a
couple of dozen people long.” The
welcoming party moved forward as the Presidential party disembarked from the jet
and Lieutenant Purple piped the VIPs aboard, in the best naval tradition.
As the President’s guests milled about waiting for the formalities to conclude,
the watching support staff broke into spontaneous applause and a little
cheering. Colonel White frowned and glanced at the
President, relieved to see that Roberts was grinning and acknowledging what he
assumed was the enthusiasm for his arrival, with a gracious wave. “Welcome to
Cloudbase, Mr President,” he said, saluting with dignity. “Glad to be
here, Colonel, amongst the brave men and women of Spectrum.” The colonel
led him along the neat guard of honour.
Roberts paused beside Captain Scarlet and Captain Blue, who were known to
him from a previous mission, and addressed a few words to them. He lingered
longer beside Symphony and Harmony. Captain Grey
had been delegated to escort President Roberts on a tour of Cloudbase. This privilege was not being
offered to the civilian guests for reasons of security.
He managed to steer his charge away from the Angels and led the way
towards the lifts to the other floors. With a sigh,
Colonel White turned his attention to the civilians. Dale
Burland, the Executive Producer, had designated himself as the spokesman, and
advanced to meet the colonel, but the star of the show, Drake DeBonnaire –
Captain Starlight himself – pre-empted him by extending his hand towards Colonel
White, declaiming: “Colonel
White, may I say that I and my fellow thespians have been looking forward to
this visit for many weeks. I
instructed the team to be sure to bring enough signed merchandise for all the
staff on your base – at no cost to them, naturally.
The cast of ‘Captain Starlight of PRISM’ acknowledge the inspirational
role played by your organisation in our show.
We like to think that we have brought a little glamour into the humdrum
existence of your crew.” Colonel
White, unfailingly polite, had taken the outstretched hand but found his own
gripped in a tight lock, while a photographer suddenly emerged from the crowd
behind them and started taking photographs.
Captain
Magenta stepped forward and placed a hand over the lens. “No photography on
Cloudbase,” he said sternly. Drake
DeBonnaire dropped the colonel’s hand and glared at Magenta ferociously. “No photographs? I know you’ve already stopped the film
crews using their gear until the World President makes his speech and we sing
our song – which is completely stupid! So how are we supposed to publicise our
visit?” “You won’t
be publicising it, Mr DeBonnaire,” the colonel said, unconsciously wiping his
hand on his uniform trousers.
“Spectrum is a top security organisation and Cloudbase is a top secret base. There will be no filming and no
photography.” “But I told
my agent to arrange a photographer for my personal publicity,” DeBonnaire said.
“It was agreed-” “Not by me,”
White interjected, “and on Cloudbase, my word is law.” He moved on
to welcome the other actors, leaving DeBonnaire open-mouthed with shocked
protest. As Magenta
had already broken ranks, the parade dispersed and Captain Ochre joined Captain
Scarlet and Lieutenant Green to greet Matthew Nash – the young British actor
they’d met on the previous mission. “Hi there,
Matt,” Ochre called cheerfully, extending his hand. “Hello,
Captain Ochre, great to see you again – and fantastic to be on Cloudbase! I make believe on a fantasy version like
this, but let me tell you, nothing – no CGI or clever film tricks – can prepare
you for the real thing!” “We like to
think so,” Captain Scarlet said, shaking hands with Nash in his turn. “Now, may I introduce you to
someone I think you ought to know?”
Nash nodded and smiled. “Now, this
is Captain Blue.
Captain, this is Mr Matthew Nash, alias Captain Rue of PRISM.” “Good day to
you, Mr Nash,” Blue said stiffly. “Oh my,”
Nash gasped quietly, “I guess you’re the man I should apologise to.” He extended his hand and Blue shook it,
politely. “Believe me, Captain, I
have nothing but admiration for you and your colleagues. You’re all the real heroes.” Blue smiled
and Scarlet realised that even if he had coached Nash in how to win over his
sternest critic in Spectrum, he couldn’t have said anything better calculated to
counter Blue’s disapproval. “I am
pleased to meet you, Mr Nash.
Captain Scarlet and Captain Ochre told me how much help you gave them on their
mission to the film studio.” “And I am
honoured to meet you, Captain. You
and everyone on this amazing base.” Blue’s
habitual good manners, and Nash’s apparently genuine embarrassment, had won the
day. Once he
realised Blue wasn’t going to berate the younger man for – as he liked to put it
– making a mockery of Spectrum twice a week,
Ochre moved on to greet the
young actresses that played the PRISM Seraphs: Kismet, Serenade, Concord,
Mellifluous and Madrigal. “Hey,” Ochre
said, as he exchanged enthusiastic kisses with the four young women who rushed
to meet him. “One’s missing. Where’s the lovely Madrigal?” Kismet, a
curvaceous platinum-blonde, giggled
and pointed towards the side of the hangar bay where the baggage was being
unloaded. Jeanie
Johnson, the actress known as Madrigal Seraph, was partially hidden by a pile of
crates and was facing the other way as she watched her suitcase being unloaded.
At almost the same moment that Ochre called her name, Matthew Nash called her,
and she turned to hear him say to Captain Scarlet: “Come and
see Jeanie, she’s been dying to meet you again!” Ochre joined
the others and went to welcome her
aboard. “Hello,
Captains,” she said, smiling broadly as she moved towards them. “Isn’t this amazing?” The men
stopped dead in their tracks and stared at her.
Then Ochre gasped: “You’re
pregnant.” Matthew sent
to stand beside her and put a loving arm around her shoulders. “Yeah,” he said proudly, “we’re
expecting a new arrival any week now.” “Holy cow,”
Ochre muttered. “How did I miss
that!” The young
couple shared a self-congratulatory smile.
“We haven’t made it public,” Nash said. “How do you
hide something like that?” asked Ochre, gesturing towards Jeanie. “Oh, that’s
easy,” she replied. “Since the bump
became noticeable, Madrigal’s only been seen in close-up or from a distance or
from the back – and that’s my body double.
The show’s sponsors didn’t want it known that Matt and I were a couple,
they thought it would spoil the interaction between the characters for the
viewers. Luckily, the craze for
kaftans and smocks has meant that it hasn’t been too difficult to hide it in
public either – until recently, of course.
I feel the size of a house!” “I think
we’re more concerned about how you got permission to be here at all,” Blue
explained. “I mean, Cloudbase is at 40,000 feet and altitude isn’t good for
pregnant ladies; it can result in… problems.” “I’m fine,
Captain, really I am,” she said, although the smile faded slightly from her
face. “And nothing was going to stop
me being here.” “Jeanie
looked into all that side of it before we came,” Nash explained. Jeanie nodded
in support. “And it said it was okay
if you take precautions and you’re fit.
And she is. Besides, the company
said it was okay too; she has an important solo in the song, so we really need
her here. The sponsors were insistent she came once they knew she was okay and
up for it.” “Does Fawn
know?” Blue asked. Ochre, who
had been responsible for checking the visitors on board the SPJ, shook his head. “Fawn?” Nash
looked blank. “Doctor Fawn
runs Cloudbase Medical,” Scarlet explained. “Has anyone from your medical
advisors or the company personnel notified him about your happy event?” They both
shook their heads. “I think…
maybe…we should,” Ochre muttered
glumly. “Yeah, me
too,” Blue agreed. “He’s not
going to be happy about this unexpected development,” Scarlet said, with a wry
glance at his friends. “Boy, am I
going to enjoy telling him,” he added, with a mischievous grin.
Captain
Scarlet’s prediction was entirely accurate.
Doctor Fawn was incensed. “How pregnant?” he demanded over the video
link to Sick Bay. Scarlet pursed his lips thoughtfully and
shifted so that his legs were slightly apart.
He leant back as if he was carrying a heavy weight and extended his hands in
front of him over an imaginary bump. “About this
pregnant,” he said innocently. Ochre
guffawed with laughter. “Oh, very funny,” Fawn snapped. “You can get that woman down to Sick Bay right
now. I’m going to need to run tests
and ensure she hasn’t suffered from the flight or the altitude. Then she’s going straight back to
where she came from. I’m not risking having her on this base for a minute longer
than I have to.” “But it’s
Christmas Eve; the last shuttle’s already gone.” Scarlet said. “Then someone’s going to have to fly
her groundside,” Fawn insisted. As
the Chief Medical Officer on Cloudbase he knew he had the authority to override
every order given, even by the colonel, if the need arose. “We’re all
on emergency ‘let’s-protect-the-World-President’ duty for the duration of this
visit,” Scarlet explained.
“Especially me.” Fawn gave
him a sharp glance. “Don’t you worry, it won’t be you. I want someone who can get her to the
ground with the minimum of in-flight turbulence and the smoothest landing. You fly like you drive and that’d be too
risky.” “Huh,”
Scarlet said sceptically. “I don’t
know where the myth of my reckless driving comes from, but it’s a downright
calumny.” “Okay,” Fawn said sceptically, “and every time I patch you up after some
reckless deed of derring do, I’ll remind myself of that.” Scarlet
grinned, despite the doctor’s words.
He knew Fawn well enough to know that his bark was always worse than his bite.
“So, you want a careful driver, Doc?
There’s only one person really fits that description.”
He turned to Captain Blue. “You’re
wanted,” he said.
Drake
DeBonnaire was angry. He had been
promised a publicity coup and this was being in danger of being denied him by
some pompous little bureaucrat in a fancy uniform. His appeals to Dale Burland and one of
the World President’s aides had got him nowhere; it seemed that this jumped-up
colonel really did have the right to call the shots on this crummy base. Doesn’t he know who I am? he thought. I
owe it to my fans to make sure they can keep up with every step I make. This would be the biggest thing in
Hollywood… and he’s worried about anyone seeing ‘secrets’ of his silly base on
the screen. As if they’d be looking
at anything but me! He looked
around for his publicity photographer and saw him deep in conversation with
Captain Magenta and two of the production crew. Colonel White was talking to
Dale Burland and Martin Felsen, the actor who played PRISM’s commanding officer,
Colonel Fright. Nick Hudec and Roman
Ciskowski, PRISM captains Hokum and Coral, respectively, were happily engaged
talking to the two Spectrum Angels who had formed part of the welcoming
committee, while the PRISM Seraphs were surrounded by a gaggle of
brightly-uniformed Spectrum agents. Drake
instinctively knew what was wrong with this scene: nobody was paying any
attention to him - but for once he wasn’t as outraged as he usually would have
been. In the back of his mind an
idea was forming. It was a slow
process and involved him dragging back into his conscious mind past memories of how things actually worked. More years
ago than he liked to remember, he had started out as a technical assistant on a
day-time soap. By finding subtle
ways of bringing himself to the attention of the producers, and sleeping with
the director’s wife, he had managed
to get himself a small role in the show.
From there, the only way had been up and he had schemed and manipulated events
until finally, he was the lead star.
For almost a decade he had ruled the world of day-time TV, until some scheming,
testosterone-laden, male-juvenile had pulled the same tricks he’d used and
ousted the old king, by insisting his character was written out - with no chance of return. Well, I showed ‘em, he thought with a
vindictive satisfaction. I told them they’d be nothing without me and
I was right! Their ratings plummeted
when that fly-by-night ham went into movies and I – I became a much-loved global superstar – in my own show! Now I’m not going to risk losing that
position just because some anal retentive soldier doesn’t want his shiny toy
shown to the world. Oh no – Drake
DeBonnaire is a match for any Colonel White!
Jeanie Johnson did not want to report to
Sick Bay and she and Matthew Nash were
arguing that there was no need . “I am fine,”
she insisted. “Look-” She gave the
three officers a twirl. “Very nice,”
Ochre said, “But you have to realise, Jeanie, that no one on this base has the
right to say ‘no’ to Doctor Fawn when he says ‘get your ass down here, pronto’.
We’ll get reported and be in big trouble if you won’t co-operate.” “Yeah,”
Scarlet said. “He’s told me to take
you to Sick Bay and I have my orders, Jeanie.
Fawn’s a tyrant, even I have to do what he tells me.” Blue rolled
his eyes. “You’re scaring her to
death, guys. Ms Johnson, believe me,
Doctor Fawn is merely concerned for your welfare.” “Captain
Scarlet said he wants to send me home,” she exclaimed. “I’m
not
going home and if he has the power to send me back, I won’t go and see him
either! I am sorry if it’s going to
get you into trouble, guys, but I want to be part of this – it’s an historic
event!” Ochre
shrugged in despair. “See reason,
Jeanie,” he pleaded. She shook her head. “I am
not
going.” “Mr Nash,”
Blue said, turning to the young man. “Please try and make her see sense. Doctor Fawn is always open to reason.”
Blue glared at Scarlet when he gave a hoot of derision. “He
is
a reasonable man. If everything is
all right and he’s sure Ms Johnson is not in any discomfort, it is quite likely
he’ll agree to her staying here for the duration of the visit. After all, he quite understands the
importance of the event. However,”
he continued, ignoring Jeanie’s splutter of protest, “if Ms Johnson refuses to
co-operate, he will be quite within his authority to insist that Colonel White
‘deports’ her from the base as an unacceptable medical risk. As
I see it,” he turned to Jeanie, “your best hope is to see Fawn and speak to him.
If you don’t, you will certainly be sent home without a hearing.” “Matt, don’t
make me go,” she pleaded. “It’s not up
to me, Jeanie,” Matthew Nash replied thoughtfully. “I think Captain Blue’s got the right of
it. I’m sure this Doctor Fawn has to
be a sensible guy – after all, he’s a Spectrum officer too, isn’t he? You’d better go and see him and with any
luck this’ll all blow over when he gives you a clean bill of health. Please, darling, don’t make a fuss. Everyone only wants what’s best for you
and the baby.” Her face
crumpled slightly as she realised that she was effectively outnumbered and that
her accepted ally had changed sides.
She considered for a moment and then gave a brief nod. “Okay, I’ll
see him,” she conceded. There was an
audible sigh of relief from the Spectrum officers. “But I want you to come with me.” She pointed at Blue. “Captain Scarlet doesn’t seem to think I
should be here anyway, and I want someone to speak to this Doctor Fawn and tell
him I’m okay.” Glad that
she was prepared to see sense, Blue gave her his most dazzling smile and Jeanie
responded with a coy smile of her own. Ochre rolled
his eyes and muttered in an aside to Scarlet: “What is this power he has over
damn near every female he meets?” Scarlet
smirked. “Not a clue, but I’m taking
notes…” Ochre
grinned at him and said out loud, “Well, I think that’s settled then. Blue, you are hereby appointed Madrigal
Seraph’s champion and defender – to no great surprise - and poor old Captain Rue
is sidelined – yet again.” “It’s the
story of Rue’s life,” Nash said jovially, and hugged his partner. She cuddled against him for a brief
moment. “Luckily, it isn’t mine,” he
added, as he planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I will see you just as soon as the doctor gives you your visitor’s pass,
Jeanie.”
Captain
Grey’s tour of Cloudbase had reached the engine rooms. President Roberts and his aides were
admiring the impressive control panels and listening to Grey’s explanations of
the power and capabilities of the state of the art engines. Robert
‘Scotty’ McPherson, the chief engineer, was standing proudly beside one of the
control panels ready to answer any questions, while his crew were smartly at
attention in honour of their visitors. “No doubt
there are copious fail-safes, to prevent emergencies?” Roberts asked genially. “Och aye,
sir,” McPherson replied. “These
beauties cannae fail. Any break in
the power triggers automatic back-up systems and the repair ‘bots’ move in to
fix things and there’s the latest nano-technology to isolate and repair any
damage.” Roberts was
nodding encouragingly. “And it is
tested regularly?” “Och aye,
sir, and there’s never been any problem wi’ it.
Like I said, it cannae fail.”
The
reception in Hangar Deck One was going well.
The crew and the visitors were all enjoying the chance to unwind in what
was, for both groups, exciting company.
Colonel White was pleasantly surprised to discover that both Burland and
Felsen were cultured men, neither of whom had any false idea of exactly what
sort of programme they were making. “It’s
entertainment, pure and simple,” Felsen said.
“But we do try to make it clear how much we owe to the forces that are
actually doing the work of protecting us from the terrorists and rebel forces
that still exist.” “Yeah,”
Burland agreed. “Although I guess
you could also say that now we play it for laughs more than we used to. The only person who still believes he’s
in a realistic adventure show is Drake.
But, despite the comedy elements, Colonel, we don’t treat the actual premise as
a joke. We realise that you and your
organisation are risking your lives in earnest.
I guess it is a TV cliché that one man could do all the things Captain
Starlight does without getting so much as a scratch. Starlight should’ve died a hundred times,
but TV doesn’t work that way. You
get an actor signed up and you have to keep him.”
He pulled a face. “Sadly,
Drake’s so associated with the role now, we’d be hard pressed to recast him.” “I quite
understand, gentlemen,” White replied.
“The programme is very popular with many of the crew here. Of course, there are a few diehards who
consider that it trivialises what Spectrum does.” “I’d be
happy to talk to them,” Burland said.
“We have nothing but admiration for Spectrum and all the World Government
forces.” “I don’t
think that will be necessary, Mr Burland,” White remarked, trying to imagine how
long the TV executive would last under the withering scorn of Captain Blue.
“I am sure that this visit will go some way to reassuring the doubters.” He glanced
across the hangar and saw Scarlet and Blue escorting a young woman towards one
of the lifts. He made a mental note
to find out what they’d been up to, later. Drake
DeBonnaire had slipped away unnoticed and made his way to the cargo hold of the
WAAF jet, where the props crates and equipment for the broadcast had been
stored. He waved an imperious acknowledgement to
the crew technicians and Spectrum officials busy unloading the gear, and went to
the crate labelled ‘Drake 1’. “Open this
for me, willya?” he asked the nearest member of the film crew. “What you
looking for?” the man asked, as he
sorted out the key and unlocked the crate.
“A little
personal gift for one of the Spectrum Angels,” Drake said with a leer. “I reckon I’m on a promise there, buddy.” For a split
second the man’s expression expressed deep scepticism, but then he shrugged. “I guess
they don’t get out much,” he muttered, as he stood back and allowed Drake to
rummage in the crate. When the
actor had finished and taken out a plastic briefcase, he locked the crate again
and nodded an indifferent ‘farewell’ before returning to his colleagues. Drake
sneered at the retreating man and walked to a quiet part of the hangar deck
where he could unpack his case in private.
He took out
one of the small cameras that were usually attached to the actors’ costumes for
a character’s-point-of-view shots of the action sequences. The cameras used a wireless download to
the main film storage disc, allowing the actor full freedom of movement while
providing the watcher with the excitement of a vicarious experience. Drake didn’t use them often , as all of his
stunts were done by his body-double-stuntman, but he was familiar with them.
He tested the three batteries in the pack with the camera.
One of them had power for about 30 minutes’ film time, but the other two needed
recharging. That should give me time to film
around this reception deck and then, I’ll need to slip away and replace the
battery pack with a new one for the other parts of the base. When it’s over I can
collect the film disc before we get back on the plane if l connect it to a power
source down here. I’ll set
both batteries to recharge and take the spare with me – just in case. He looked
around for a suitably concealed socket. “As you can
see, Mr President, this screen gives a schematic representation of every power
conduit and access point across the base.
If so much as one of the lovely Angels blows a fuse on her hairdryer, we
can isolate the fault and be there in a trice to put it right,” Chief McPherson explained. “It is
certainly a remarkable piece of diagnostic equipment,” Roberts replied, leaning
forward to study the keyboard that controlled the display board. “Has this technology been rolled out
through the other military services?” Captain Grey
answered, “I believe that the World Space Control are currently testing a
modified example, sir. The WASPs
have a version similar to this and there was a prototype version in the Unitron
tank, but that project was, as you know, discontinued a few years ago.” “Hmm; I
shall recommend that the Supreme Commander Earth Forces considers the uses of
this technology throughout the services.
Repairs and maintenance costs are forever increasing and we must find
ways to reduce the overheads… Why is
that light flashing, Chief McPherson?” With a
confident smile, as if it had all been arranged to show just how good the system
was, the Chief stepped forward and peered at the display. “That green
light is showing the activation of a
power point in the hangar decks… Hangar Deck One, to be precise, sir.” “That’s
where the reception’s being held,” Grey said urgently. “I wonder why anyone needs to plug
anything in there.” The light
turned red. “There’s a
fault,” McPherson muttered, “but just on the one circuit.” He turned to a technician. “Get me a report on that, Wilkins.” “S.I.G.,
Chief,” the man replied. “You’d
better get it fixed pronto, Chief; leave the diagnostics till later,” Grey
advised. “The colonel won’t want the
reception interrupted by a problem with the lights or the air supply.” “S.I.G.,
Captain,” McPherson said with a hint of irritation. He punched a button and a corresponding
light flashed on the screen. He
smiled. “There goes the repair-bot. It’ll be fixed in no time.” World
President Roberts stood and watched. Suddenly
more red lights flashed and blinked across the vast screen. Overhead the lights flickered. “Chief?”
Grey said cautiously. “I’m on it,
Captain.” McPherson swung into the
control seat and barked an order: “Lieutenant Pine, check the power grid; we’ve
got a cascade!” Grey watched
as the random pattern of failures continued to spread. A frown appeared between his dark brows
as he recognised a pattern forming. MERRY XMAS
EARTHMEN All over
Cloudbase the power grid failed, the lights went out and everything ground to a
halt. The
Mysterons had struck without warning.
There was
surprisingly little panic when the lights failed in Hangar One – at least for
the first few minutes. “Please stay
where you are,” Colonel White called out across the deck. “The repairs should not take more than a
moment or two.” The
emergency lights had come on, casting a faintly greenish tinge over the hangar
and the people gathered in it. The
colonel found an officer at his side and it took him a moment to realise it was
Captain Magenta. “Shall I
contact Engineering, sir?” Magenta asked, as the seconds ticked away. “Please do,
Captain.” Magenta
activated one of the intercoms on the hangar wall. “Chief McPherson, we have lost light and power in Hangar
Bay One,” he reported. The colonel
could hear the static from where he was standing. Bugger, he thought. “Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps you would
care to return to the Presidential Jet
with Symphony and Harmony Angels, where there will be light and heat, until the
repairs are completed. Lieutenant Viridian, please ensure everyone has a
drink and something to eat.
All other officers, to me, please.” The lift
came to a standstill with a violent jerk that caused the three occupants to
stumble into each other. “Are you all
right, Ms Johnson?” Blue asked, steadying their guest as she almost toppled
over. “Yes, I
think so; what’s happened?” Jeanie asked, as the emergency lighting came on. “A minor
glitch,” Scarlet said. He was
already at the control panel. “These
things happen from time to time; it’s nothing to worry about.
Chief McPherson prides himself on setting things to rights in
double-quick time.” He pressed the
alarm. “That’s just to let them know
there’s someone in a lift. They’ll
prioritise repairs to this power relay now.” She nodded slightly and a small frown appeared
on her face. “Taking
their time, aren’t they?” Blue remarked quietly, going over to join Scarlet by
the panel when nothing happened after thirty seconds or so. Scarlet’s
response was a concerned frown. He
tried the intercom and got a blast of static.
Blue tried his radio cap and grimaced as the static assaulted his
hearing. “I don’t
think this is your average blown fuse,” Scarlet said quietly. “There’s
been no threat,” Blue replied in a horrified whisper. “And what is
to say that they have to give us
warning? If we’ve been daft enough
to put all our eggs in one basket – the World President and every Spectrum
officer together on Cloudbase – they’d be crazy to put us on our guard before
they attacked, wouldn’t they?” “You think
Cloudbase is under attack?” Scarlet
shrugged. “The Mysterons don’t take
Christmas off, we’ve learned that over the years. I had a gut feeling this whole visit was
a stupid idea!” “Welcome to
my world,” Blue retorted with some bitterness.
Scarlet gave
him an apologetic shrug. “The World
President’s wishes obviously have to override the professional concerns of us
all. But I guess you have the right
to say ‘I told you so’, if anyone does.
What worried me is we don’t know what’s happening, or the full extent of
the problem.” “While we’re
stuck here unable to do anything,” Blue added. Both men
glanced up at the maintenance hatch. “One of us
could go,” Scarlet said, in response to the unspoken idea. “We can’t leave Jeanie here alone
and we can’t take her with us – even if we could get her through that hatch – we
don’t know what’s happening out there.” They both
turned to look at her. Jeanie was
leaning against the hand rail, her face had become deathly pale and she was biting her lower lip. “What’s the
matter?” Scarlet gasped, hardly daring to let the thought of the worst possible
answer cross his mind. She turned
frightened eyes on them. “I think
I’ve gone into labour. That jolt, it
must’ve started something. I’m all
wet. I think my waters have broken.” “This can not be happening,” Blue moaned. “It is and
you’ll have to cope with it,” Scarlet said. “Why me?”
Blue protested, turning a challenging gaze on his partner. Scarlet
replied defensively, “Because you’re the one who got a ‘distinction’ on Fawn’s
‘First Aider’ course.” “For reasons
I won’t go into right now, the Field Officers’ first aid training course does
not include delivering babies,” Blue snapped. Jeanie
gasped and started to sink to the floor. Even in the dim light of the lift they
could see she was scared and in pain, and both men moved over to help her down.
Once she was crouched on the floor, blowing out short gasps of breath and
clinging to Blue’s strong arms to steady herself, Scarlet removed his tunic
ready to put behind her shoulders.
He fanned her with his radio cap. “I don’t know what to do!” Blue wailed,
panic in his voice. “Well, nor
do I,” Scarlet retorted. “Nor me,”
gasped Jeanie tearfully. “It’s my
first time too. What’s going to
happen to me – and to the baby?” Blue helped
her to lie down, with Scarlet’s tunic under her head and knelt beside her. “It’s okay, Ms Johnson, we’ll get you to
sick bay before anything too important happens. Just try and relax.” “Better be
quick then, Captain.” She tried to choke back another scream. “I don’t think we have long; this baby’s
decided to be born here and now!” He patted
her hand and Scarlet continued fanning while she rode the wave of the
contraction and then lay back, gasping for breath. Suddenly,
Scarlet said, “Adam, the medical comms system should still be functioning. We should try to raise Fawn.” Blue nodded
in relief, and activated his cap mic. “Blue to
Sick Bay: come in Sick Bay. We have
a medical emergency.” There was a
pause that seemed to last forever and then faintly and with some interference,
they heard Fawn’s voice. “What’s happened?” “We’re
trapped in the elevator on our way to Sick Bay, and Ms Johnson’s waters have
broken, she thinks, and she’s getting… contractions, I think.” “How often?” “Urmm, quite
often,” Blue replied. “Time them,” Fawn ordered. “And
I will try to connect to the lift intercom from here. Cloudbase seems to have lost power, but
thankfully, my emergency generator’s
working. Switch the intercom over to
loudspeaker.” “I’m on it,”
Scarlet said. He left Jeanie’s side
and switched the intercom to open.
They heard bursts of static, some muttered cursing
and then Fawn came through, faint but clear enough. “Got you on
loudspeaker, Doc, but you’ll need to speak up,” Scarlet said. He turned back to where Blue was helping
Jeanie through another contraction.
He stared at his wristwatch. She
screamed. “That was a
contraction,” Scarlet announced. “How dilated is she?” Fawn asked. “Dilated?” Blue gulped.
“You mean, like her pupils?” “No, you drongo! The birth canal – how dilated is it?” “I just knew
you were going to say that…” Blue muttered and sighed. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Then look…” Blue closed
his eyes and swallowed. “Excuse me, Ms Johnson,” Blue said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to… need
to… examine you, if you don’t mind?” Biting into
her lip, and then gasping for breath, Jeanie nodded permission. Blue
crouched down and rather gingerly lifted the skirt of her voluminous dress.
With some difficulty he managed, with her help, to slide her underwear off and
dropped it to one side. Jeanie obligingly bent her knees
and spread her legs wide, then screamed again, panting heavily. “Two
minutes, fifteen seconds,” Scarlet reported. Nothing
daunted now that he was following orders, Blue considered uncertainly for a
moment. “Six or seven centimetres,”
he suggested to Scarlet who was peering over his shoulder. “No, closer
to eight,” his friend said. Jeanie
stared at them in disbelief for a moment and then said, “Pardon me, Captains, I
appreciate there’s a need for accuracy, but try to remember it’s me you’re
discussing!” Blue dropped
the skirt as if it was burning his fingers. “Oh, sure; sorry, ma’am.” “Oh, call me Jeanie! For God’s sake, Captain, you’ve just been
staring at my-” She groaned at the top of her voice as another contraction
wracked her body. “What’s going on?” the doctor’s voice
demanded. “She’s about
eight centimetres,” Blue told him, his face red to the ears. Scarlet was
having difficulty suppressing a need to giggle that was as much to do with
embarrassment as amusement. “Yeah, you’re definitely having a baby,”
Fawn remarked. “I think
we’d already worked that out for ourselves,” Scarlet said dryly. “What do we do now, Doc?” “Could you see the head?” “I don’t
know, I didn’t look,” Blue admitted. “Oh, for crying out loud,” Fawn muttered.
“Captain Blue, get your act
together; you’re going to have to
deliver this baby. I’ll help as much
as I can, but you have to be my eyes and ears, and I need to know if the child
has turned in the womb, a breech-birth is much more problematical.” Scarlet
glanced at Blue’s despondent expression and clamped his hand on to the
American’s shoulder. “You can do it,
Blue-boy, I know you can.” “Doesn’t
look like I have much choice,” Blue said, with a sigh. “Okay, Doc; I’m your man.” He smiled reassuringly at Jeanie. “Believe me, Jeanie, Doctor Fawn’s the
best there is; he’ll get us through this.” “All of us,” Scarlet added. Fawn’s voice
was reassuringly matter-of-fact as he settled down to issue instructions. “Right: first of all, make her as comfortable as you can. Paul, you’ll need to support her
shoulders and encourage her to push when I tell you to. Jeanie, when you need to
let rip, scream your heart out if it helps; don’t worry about these two, they’re
almost grown ups now, they can cope.
And, both of you two, for heaven’s
sake, stay calm, or she’ll panic too. ” “S.I.G.,”
the captains replied. Fawn
continued: “Now, listen, Adam, this is what I want you to do…”
Lieutenant
Pine used the manual override to open the door to Hangar Bay One and shone his
powerful torch inside. He picked out
Colonel White standing with Captains Magenta and Ochre and Lieutenant Topaz
beside him; all of them had their Spectrum issue pistols drawn. “Hello,
sir,” Pine said, as he led the team of three technicians into the hangar. “Chief McPherson sent me and the
team up to see if we can discover what started the power-loss cascade. It was definitely this location that we
registered the first problem.
Nothing seems to be improving the situation, so the Chief reckons whatever
started it is still having an effect.
Do you remember what was happening, sir?” “Where is
the World President?” Colonel White
demanded. “Down in
Engineering with Captain Grey and Chief McPherson,” Lieutenant Pine replied,
quailing slightly in the face of White’s stern expression. “He was there when this happened and the
Chief’s really mad that we haven’t been able to put it right quickly. Sir.” “He’s safe?”
White asked. “The World
President? Oh yes, Colonel. He’s watching how we cope with the
problem.” “I bet he
is,” White muttered. “Thank you,
Lieutenant, do you have
communication with Engineering?” “Not right
now, sir. Only the medical systems
are still functioning.” “Right;
Captain Magenta, you had better lead the search around the hangar deck for…
possible causes of the power-loss cascade.” “S.I.G.,
Colonel.” “And heaven
help the man who triggered this off when I get my hands on him…” White
concluded. It didn’t
take long for Lieutenant Pine to identify and correct the problem, once Captain
Ochre had discovered the illicit electrical cable connections to the battery
packs and the film drive. He
unplugged the offending cables and isolated the socket until the repair-bots
could get along to replace cables and links. One of the
technicians started off at a run to take the information back to Engineering,
while the others checked other sockets and cabling. “What are
they?” the colonel demanded of Pine, as the young man slipped the offending
items into a heavy-duty plastic bag for examination back in the workrooms. “Well,
that’s a recharge-coupling for these batteries, and this looks to me like an
external hard disc, for storage,” Pine said.
“I don’t think it’s one of ours though, sir; there isn’t a ‘checked’
sticker on any of it.” White held
out his hand and Pine handed over the equipment. The colonel studied it in the gloom of
the emergency lighting. “Is this the
sort of thing anyone might own?” he asked. Pine rubbed
his nose thoughtfully. “Well,
someone might, if they were into amateur filmmaking.
You can get very small wireless cameras that transmit straight to the
disc.” Ochre took
them from the colonel. “I’ve seen
things like these too,” he said.
“When I was in the police we’d find them in the dens used for illegal
bare-knuckle fights or animal baiting.
Sometimes for porn too – you’d be surprised the places people would find to
attach the cameras.” “I’ll take
your word for it, Captain,” the colonel said sourly. He glanced at the lieutenant. “This isn’t our equipment? You’re sure?” “No, it
isn’t Spectrum issue,” Pine said, looking at the equipment again through the
plastic. Ochre
sighed. “It must belong to one of
the VIPs, sir.” The colonel
nodded. “Yes, I very much fear you
might be right, Captain.” Pine
swallowed and asked, “Can I take them, sir?
The Chief will want to make sure they’re clean.” “Not yet,
Lieutenant,” White said. “I will let Chief McPherson have them as soon as I
can.” “S.I.G.,
sir. Can I go and lend the Chief a
hand?” “Yes,
Lieutenant. You may go.” Lieutenant
Pine had not had much direct contact with Colonel White, but he was perceptive
enough to know when someone was about to blow their top. He went back
to Engineering with alacrity. “What’re we
going to do, Colonel?” Ochre asked, handing the equipment back to his commanding
officer. “We’re not
going to do anything,” White said in the familiar, even tone that alerted every
elite officer to an impending explosion.
“We’re not?
I know they’re guests, Colonel, but Cloudbase could have been in danger if we
hadn’t found out what was causing the power outage in time.” “Yes,” White
said briskly, as if he was emerging from a reverie. “I am well aware of that. I want you and Magenta to keep an eye on
the actors while I have a word with the film crew and technicians. Topaz, you’re with me.” “S.I.G.,”
Ochre replied, and beckoned his field partner over. Colonel
White went on board the Presidential Jet, and with the help of Lieutenant Topaz,
Symphony and Harmony managed to get all of the film technicians together in the
rear cabin. There were more than
he’d anticipated and it was quite a squeeze.
He held the plastic bag with the electrical equipment in aloft and said
genially: “Ladies and
gentlemen, I need to know if you recognise these, and if any of you were
responsible for connecting then to the power socket in the hangar?” The
technicians took the bag and passed it amongst themselves. They admitted recognising what it was,
but all denied all knowledge of how it came to be connected to the power grid. Their
spokesperson, a smartly-dressed woman, explained, “Look, any one of us could
have connected this, but if we had, you’d have known about it. We always ask permission if we need to
recharge something. These days you
can’t assume it’s okay to plug in without asking and even if we are given
permission, we’ll use an isolator coupling to prevent corruption of the storage
disc. Can’t risk losing the day’s work
through some unexpected power surge.” Colonel
White nodded. “That’s as I thought.” She
continued, “I don’t recall our inventory containing these particular gadgets
anyway; we’re not filming action sequences and, as was agreed the live feed will
be vetted before it is transmitted and stored by Spectrum, so we wouldn’t need a
disc or a wireless camera.” “Do you have
any idea who might’ve connected these to Cloudbase’s power supply?” the colonel
asked. “I think it
was one of the actors,” a young man volunteered. “Such as?”
There was a shuffling amongst the crew and everyone avoided eye contact. The
colonel continued, “I will, of course, be asking them all anyway; you will only
be saving my time and theirs if you have any information or suggestions.” The young
man’s neighbours had drawn apart from him slightly, as if they feared
contamination by association, but for a moment the youngster said nothing. White waited
a calculated time and then said, almost conversationally, “If no responsible
person is identified, Spectrum may well be forced to take action – legal action
– against every one here.” It was a
bluff, but it presented the crew with enough of an excuse to loosen their
tongues. “Before we
left I saw Drake – Mr DeBonnaire – packing something into the props crates,” a
young make-up artist said hesitantly. “Was it Mr
DeBonnaire you saw that makes you think one of the actors connected the film
devices?” White asked, addressing the young technician directly for the first
time. “He was away
from the others doing something. I
just noticed because he usually wants to be the centre of attention,” the man
said. An older man
spoke up. “While we were still
unloading the gear, he asked me to open one of the crates; said he wanted some
personal gifts for the Angel pilots – reckoned he was on a promise.” There was a collective groan of
scepticism. “I didn’t see what he
took out though – except it was some kind of briefcase – and I didn’t watch what
he did next.” “Well, he
had his own press photographer along,” someone else chipped in. “Maybe the guy said he’d need these?” “Drake is a
publicity junkie,” the spokeswoman agreed.
“If I had to suggest one of the cast as the prime suspect, I’d start
there, Colonel White.” “Thank you,
ladies and gentlemen; I am most grateful.
However, please keep our discussion to yourselves for now. Leave it to me, if you please.” They nodded
and drifted away in small groups gossiping amongst themselves. As the colonel picked up his
electrical evidence, the power was restored and the lights came back on outside
the plane. Thank goodness, he thought, and moved
purposefully into the front cabin, where the actors were preparing to disembark
again. In the lift,
the lights came on again and, as the repair-bots did their job, the winch kicked
into life, although the occupants barely noticed. When the doors opened, Doctor Fawn was
waiting in the corridor with two nurses and an emergency gurney from Sick Bay. They saw
Captain Scarlet, looking absurdly proud, standing in the middle of the lift
holding a noisy bundle wrapped in his uniform tunic, while Captain Blue was
still kneeling beside Jeanie Johnson.
She was looking dishevelled, tearful and tired, but somehow, distinctly
triumphant. “Well done,”
Fawn said heartily to everyone.
Then he glanced at Scarlet.
“What is it?” “A baby,”
Scarlet replied brightly. “Uh-huh,”
Fawn said, as one of the nurses took the bundle from the captain and the other
went to assist Captain Blue in lifting Jeanie onto the gurney, where she settled
back gratefully onto the pillows.
“They come in two varieties, Captain, boy and girl. Which one is that?” Scarlet
beamed. “A boy, definitely a boy.” “Have you
chosen a name?” Nurse Ingram asked Jeanie, as she handed the baby over to her. “Matt and I
chose names weeks ago. Her name is
Angela.” Scarlet
blinked in surprise. "I told you
it was the umbilical cord," Blue hissed. “Nice going,
Scarlet,” Fawn said to the embarrassed officer. “I think you may be in need of some
remedial human biology training.” Everyone
chuckled and Scarlet flushed. Fawn
smiled at him and then patted Blue on the arm.
“Well done,
Adam. Now you’d better come to Sick
Bay; you look like you’ve just had the baby yourself.” Blue glanced
down at his tunic, which was smeared with blood and a damp mixture of bodily
fluids he had no wish to identify.
He nodded at Fawn and despite the state he was in, felt inordinately
proud of himself. As they
trailed after the gurney, Scarlet said: “I could
have sworn…I saw…I mean, I thought I saw…” “A genuine
mistake, anyone could’ve made it,” Blue agreed ironically and then sniggered.
“Come on, I don’t know about you, but I need a cup of coffee and a shower.” “Champagne
would be more suitable,” Fawn remarked, “suitably non-alcoholic, of course.” Blue
shivered. “Never touch the stuff –
especially the non-alcoholic variety,” he replied, and it was Scarlet’s turn to
chuckle. The news of
the birth travelled around Cloudbase like greased lightning and President
Roberts and the proud father arrived at Sick Bay within seconds of each other,
both with an excited entourage. Nurse Ingram
met them at reception and barred the way. “You can’t
go in,” she said firmly, “until Doctor Fawn says so.” “But I’m the
baby’s father,” Nash explained. She stood
her ground. “When Doctor Fawn has
finished checking the mother and child, you’ll be the first to go in,” she
promised. “Until then – no one gets
any closer than this.” Despite this
obstruction, the World President was full of good cheer. He had seen a demonstration of
Cloudbase’s resilience in adversity and been – almost - present at the birth of
what he was already calling ‘Spectrum’s first grandchild.’
He was snapping orders at his aides, telling them to rewrite his speech
to include the ‘historic event’. “You’ve made
his Christmas, anyway,” Ochre remarked to Matthew Nash. Nash
grinned. “Do you think Doctor Fawn
will be long?” Ochre shook
his head. “He’s the fastest doc in
the ‘verse, is Fawn. Why, he even
cures Captain Scarlet quicker than your Doctor Kildeer cures Captain Starlight!” Nash
laughed. “Drake does make some
miraculous recoveries, doesn’t he?
All dictated by the filming schedule, of course.” “Yeah, he
does,” Ochre agreed jovially, adding to himself, “so does Scarlet, all dictated
by the Mysterons, of course…” The only
people not crowding into the Sick Bay were Colonel White, Lieutenant Topaz and Drake DeBonnaire. Topaz had drawn the actor to one side as
his excited colleagues had streamed after Matthew Nash, who was dashing headlong
towards Sick Bay with Captain Ochre leading the way, and brought him to where
Colonel White was waiting by the private elevator that went to his Ready Room. “Mr
DeBonnaire, I would appreciate a word with you, in private,” White said,
ushering the actor to the lift. “Sure,”
Drake said confidently and stepped inside. Topaz
stepped after the colonel and pressed the ‘up’ button. The lift
rose up through the decks and burst into the daylight, continuing to rise up one
of the struts towards the command centre.
Drake gawped in astonishment, pleased to think that the discreet camera
on his lapel was getting all of this.
When the lift stopped, the door opened into the colonel’s private office,
away from the public areas of the base, and White invited him in. DeBonnaire
was excited. He had been outraged to
discover that this miserable
spoilsport did have the authority to prevent him publicising his visit, but he
felt sure the colonel had reconsidered his publicity ban and was ready to do a
deal. Drake was more than ready to agree to a
dozen or so signed photographs of them together, and perhaps some of his
personal gear, authenticated as to provenance to ensure it was a collector’s
item, in exchange for the world-wide publicity rights of everything that had
happened. After all, who knows more about
effective publicity than me? he thought. The
commander indicated a seat by a neat and surprisingly clear desk and DeBonnaire
sat, waiting to bargain his way to the biggest publicity coup of the year. Topaz
stood silently by the lift entrance, his hands clasped behind his back. Colonel
White considered his visitor while he walked around to the other side of the
desk. DeBonnaire was tall and
broadly built, with a deep voice that was rumoured to be irresistible to women
of a certain age. On closer
examination it was easy to see that he was a little overweight and his once
handsome face showed the unmistakable signs of rejuvenating plastic surgery: the
unnaturally puffy cheeks, the wide eyes and the wrinkle-free forehead. His abundant dark hair was thinning
on top and from the tint of the exposed scalp, White suspected the regular use
of hair dye.
Nevertheless, however pathetic the jumped-up, tin-pot hero seemed to be, White
had no intention of underestimating his opponent.
He produced the plastic bag and laid it on the table before Drake. “Tell me, Mr
DeBonnaire, have you seen these before?” Drake
hesitated. “I know what they are,”
he hedged, a slight frown between his brows.
“But these things all look the same to me, so I can’t answer 100% that I
have seen these very ones.” He
glanced up at the colonel and asked innocently, “Why?” “Because, Mr
DeBonnaire, these are what was responsible for the power loss cascade Cloudbase
suffered. A power loss that put more
than one life at risk, I might add.” “And what’s
it to do with me? My life was one of
those at risk, if there was a risk, as you claim.” “Because the
blithering idiot who connected these to Cloudbase’s power grid did not even
pause to consider what the outcome of his actions could be. You see, Cloudbase is a secure base and
as such it is a totally self-contained unit, 40,000 feet – which for the
uninitiated, is a whopping seven-and-a-half
miles - above the ground.
That, Mr DeBonnaire, is a very long
way to fall. Every electrical
circuit has to be monitored, not because we begrudge anyone the use of the
power, but because if anything damages those circuits, the inevitable outcome –
eventually – is that this base will crash and the lives of everyone on board –
and the present complement is 602 people – will be over.
Not to mention the lives of many thousands of innocent civilians if the
base crashed onto a city and, without power to steer her, she could’ve come down
anywhere along the west coast of America.” Drake
fidgeted, avoiding the colonel’s perceptive gaze and shrugged. “Then you should make sure this person understand that,” he said. “But, I ask again, what’s it to do with
me? I’m an actor, not a technician. I don’t meddle with equipment.” “I’m afraid I don’t believe you,” White
snapped sternly. “You were observed
to be loading some personal effects before the flight took off and you removed
something from the same crate during the reception. Furthermore, you were observed to be
doing something in a corner of the hangar deck just before the power outage
started. It is my belief that you
were connecting this equipment to a power socket.” With a
nonchalance he did not really feel, Drake said, “I know I am always being
‘observed’ – it’s the price a star pays – so I wouldn’t be stupid enough to
‘break the rules’, would I?” The colonel
tilted his head as if considering this reasoning. “That is a point I had not considered. Lieutenant Topaz, you had better ask one
of Spectrum’s security officers to check the internal security tapes and see if
they can identify exactly what Mr DeBonnaire was doing on the hangar deck just
before the power outage.” “I wasn’t
doing anything!” Drake blurted out, thoroughly alarmed. “I deny it.
You can’t prove it, anyway.” “But I can,”
White snapped. “I told you this is a secure base, Mr DeBonnaire, secure inside and out. What is more, every security camera has a
protected power source. Every angle
of this base is covered, so all I have to do is call for the recordings to be
scanned and I can provide enough evidence to convince even the most die-hard fan
that you are the person who put all those lives at risk.” “Well, what
if I did? Nothing happened – nothing
was going to happen, either – you’re making it up.
These places have so many fail-safe systems nothing would have happened.
Everyone knows that; the Health and Safety police would never let you fly it
without a fail-safe system. So, what’re you going to do about it? Charge me for the power used?” Drake
blustered. “Nothing so
practical, sadly,” the colonel said.
“I am sure President Roberts is going to tell everyone what happened in his
global address and I cannot risk him sowing doubts about whether Cloudbase is thoroughly safe. Any doubts raised in the public could
result in Cloudbase being denied access to national airspace and that cannot be
allowed to happen. So, in providing
him with the explanation of what happened, I will, naturally, have to reveal the
name of the guilty party. So,
unless you admit you were responsible for the power outage cascade and apologise
to everyone on this base for putting them in danger before then, I will have to
release the security footage to the World President and the World Press, in
order to collaborate my explanation.” Drake went
pale. “That would be a breach of
confidentiality – my lawyers would take Spectrum to the cleaners-” “ ‘Captain
Starlight’ guilty of risking the lives of 700 people by his thoughtless,
selfish, not to mention forbidden, actions’,”
White mused, “I can almost see the headlines now – something much
snappier than I can dream up, but they’d leave no doubt as to who was to blame.” “That’s
blackmail!” Drake spluttered. White paused
thoughtfully. “Yes, you might be
right.” “What is to
say that Roberts won’t spill the beans anyway?” “Oh, I am
sure you could encourage his discretion with a suitably contrite donation… to
his favourite charity, for example?” “But
everyone here will know,” Drake said. White
nodded. “You don’t have long to make
your mind up, Mr DeBonnaire. We had
better join the official gathering in the Conference Room. That is where the President will be
making his broadcast from… in approximately 75 minutes from now.” Drake looked
nervous; the idea of having his actions – which for some reason he still
couldn’t quite understand, seemed to have been disapproved of – broadcast around
the world to his doting fans was not something he liked to contemplate.
There were devoted fans who would
always worship him, he was sure of that; but the ridicule of the fickle masses
was something he knew his career would never survive. “And if I
apologise for my genuine mistake, you’ll let the matter drop?” he asked sulkily. “I will,”
White said, and saw relief flood into the actor’s face. “Of course, I can’t make that promise on
behalf of the other members of the cast and crews or the television company…” “They’ll
lynch me!” Drake gasped, as the full import of the situation dawned on him. “They
might,” White agreed, but added with a reassuring smile, “but not on my base, Mr
DeBonnaire…” The smile quickly faded
to be replaced with an uncompromising glare. “And quite frankly, what happens
when you leave here is somebody else’s problem and can’t come quick enough for
me.” Drake leapt
to his feet. “Sit down!”
White thundered with all the expectation of obedience his years of command had
instilled in his voice. Drake obeyed
– as better men than he had done before. “You will be
accompanied for the rest of your visit by Lieutenant Topaz. He will not leave your side until you
step off the World President’s jet at the airport again. You will not be allowed anywhere
near any broadcasting equipment and your luggage and person will be searched for
illicit recordings, now and before you leave.” “I will not submit to that!” DeBonnaire
exclaimed. “Then you
will spend the rest of the visit in our brig, Mr DeBonnaire. I will not tolerate anyone flouting the
restrictions I have imposed on this visit; those restrictions were there for a
reason. Spectrum’s security has to
be paramount and the safety of this base and the people on it are my prime
concern. I will take any actions
necessary to protect them.” The colonel
leant across his desk and said fiercely: “Do you even
comprehend that this is not a fantasy, Mr DeBonnaire? There is no one writing a script that
prevents any one of my officers being killed in the course of a mission and for
them that really is the final curtain!
There are no ‘expendable extras’ on Cloudbase and I will not allow some vain, egotistical
soap star to put their lives at even greater risk.” “I wouldn’t
do that!” “You’ve already done it!” White thundered.
“I could have you arrested and charged with putting the life of the World
President in danger - that’s
treason, Mr DeBonnaire! And
believe me, if you take one pace out of line or say one word that doesn’t follow
the rules, I will do it! Do I make myself clear?” DeBonnaire
was pale and trembling, but White realised that it was now with fear and not
some self-important sense of angry injustice.
Thankful that he had finally got the seriousness of the situation through
to the culprit, he leant back in his chair and glanced at Topaz. “Lieutenant,
escort our guest to Sick Bay and ask Doctor Fawn to do a full body search and
scan. Then you may accompany Mr
DeBonnaire to the Conference Room, where, I feel sure, he will have something to
say to the World President and his colleagues from the TV show.” “S.I.G,
Colonel.” Drake
staggered to his feet and stumbled over to the lift, where his escort ushered
him inside and stepped in afterwards.
The last sight he had of Colonel White was the implacably stern face of
the Commander-in-Chief of what was probably the world’s most effective security
force, and there was no forgiveness in it.
As the lift
door closed and the pod descended towards the main decks, Colonel White sighed
and shook his head. “God help
this planet if we ever have to rely on people like that…” he said aloud.
“Ladies and
gentlemen, children, friends, colleagues, comrades and allies, thank you for
inviting me into your homes on this very special day. This wonderful world of ours is a
marvellous mix of faiths and creeds, beliefs and philosophies, customs and
traditions, so it is difficult for us all to meet on common ground to give
thanks to the Providence that has given us another year of peace and plenty; yet
I venture to hope that all of us can accept the symbolism of this Christian day
of rejoicing enough to join our voices in harmony long enough to acknowledge the
positive aspects of our lives. So I hope you will join me in my sincere prayer
that this will continue.” World
President Roberts smiled warmly at the camera and with a well-rehearsed
spontaneous gesture brushed his grey hair back from his forehead, as he settled
back in his homely armchair, his face assuming a sympathetic expression. “Of course,
I know that not every life is an easy one and many of you will be experiencing
difficulties in your personal lives as the economy of your nation state suffers
or the vagaries of the weather patterns fail to ensure a decent harvest. The World Government, while respecting
the sovereignty of every member state, is firmly committed to providing support
for regions suffering from such difficulties; we have provided funding to aid
the recovery of global manufacturing and commerce, as well as for additional
irrigation programmes around the world, such as the rebuilding of the important
desalination plant at Najama in Peru.” His
expression hardened to one of stern authority.
“The
destruction of the Najama plant was an outrageous act of terrorism and such acts
continue to be perpetrated by the callous foot soldiers of those misguided
nations who consider the fellowship of the nations in the World Government as an
affront to the individuality of their people. My government has stated many times that
we respect the right of every member state to find their own way to peace and
prosperity, as long as they shun the ways of anarchy, corruption – both
political and moral - and belligerence.
Sadly, not every national government finds this acceptable which is why
my government has sworn to maintain the level of funding to the security forces
that protect and defend the borders of every member state from incursion and
terrorist raids.” “I thought this was supposed to be
apolitical?” Captain Scarlet hissed to Captain Blue who grimaced as Colonel
White turned to glare at them. The World
President relaxed in his armchair and gave a twinkling smile. “But this
happy occasion is not the time for talk of recriminations and aggression. This holiday is a time for families to be
together and friends to extend the hand of comradeship across religious and
ethnic divides, and for all of us to thank those men and women who devote their
lives to protecting the lives of the many from the aggression of the few. To that end I am speaking to you today
from the heart of one such organisation: Spectrum.” “Now, there
has been some criticism of the secrecy that surrounds Spectrum and its mission
to defend the world from terrorism, but that security is there to enable the
dedicated personnel of this estimable organisation to carry out their duties in
safety. Spectrum remains the
lynchpin of the World Government’s commitment to protect its citizens, and I am
here today to extend the thanks of my government to Spectrum and the other World
Security forces for their stalwart defence of the planet.” He stood up
and walked a few steps to the left, where the distinctive patterned walls of the
Conference Room came into shot. “Here on Cloudbase, where the men and women of
Spectrum’s elite forces are stationed, they are capable of spanning the globe
with their protective arms, giving equal attention to every member state. It is perfectly understandable, yet a
personal sadness to me, that I cannot introduce you to the fine men and women
who serve us all so well. They are
here now, watching this broadcast and I will ask them to raise their voices with
me to wish you all the ‘compliments of the season’. Ladies and gentlemen…” Smiling
broadly, Roberts waved his arms as if conducting a choir and the well-rehearsed
crew of Cloudbase duly chorused ‘seasons
greetings from Cloudbase’, before dissolving into laughter and a
spontaneous, if somewhat ironic, round of applause for their own cleverness. Roberts was
grinning and applauding with them and when the noise died down he continued,
glancing surreptitiously at the teleprompter fixed below the one camera the
colonel had agreed to. “Today
Cloudbase has witnessed two historic firsts: this live broadcast to the people
of the world, and, a very happy event in the lives of two well-known people.
For it was my intention to conclude this broadcast with a surprise appearance by
Spectrum’s ‘alter-egos’-” “Told you,” Blue hissed. “- the
excellent men and women of our own ‘Primary Response Initiative for Saving
Mankind’: PRISM.” Roberts beamed in
excited delight. “For Spectrum’s
Commander in Chief, Colonel White, granted his permission-” “Hummph,” White snorted. “-for those
well-loved characters to accompany me and entertain us all with their
chart-topping charity hit song. Yet,
while we here, Cloudbase experienced a serious technical malfunction, which
could have represented a threat to all of us on board and to the people living
on the land we are stationed over.
But I witnessed with my own eyes how quickly Spectrum’s superb crew of
technicians were able to repair the base, proving to me just how insignificant a
threat this superbly engineered aerial base is, despite the concerns of those
doubters who claim that it would pose an unacceptable risk to the world’s
cities, if it were to malfunction.
In real time, while this incident was
actually
occurring, two Spectrum captains were accompanying one of the charming PRISM
Seraphs to the base’s medical facility, because, despite all precautions, that
young lady was about to have her baby.” He twinkled
at the camera with a teasing smile.
“Ah, you’re wondering who I’m speaking about, I know you are! So, without further ado, let me tell you
that a beautiful baby girl was born right
here
on Cloudbase – in the elevator! – delivered by those two brave captains! Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce
you to the first truly global citizen,
Cloudbase’s granddaughter: Baby Angela Nash!” He led the
applause as Matthew Nash wheeled Jeanie Johnson and baby Angela into the
camera’s field of vision.
Roberts shook hands with Matthew and with Jeanie, posing for a moment with his
hand resting gently on the covered head of the sleeping baby, secure in the
knowledge that the picture would be on every newscast and
the front page of every newspaper tomorrow. Jeanie was
smiling proudly, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of emotion. Roberts smiled down at her and said: “I know you
want to say a few words, Ms Johnson.” Jeanie
nodded and turned to look, not at the camera, but directly at Scarlet and Blue.
“Matt and I have been married for almost a year now and we were both so excited
when we knew about our baby. Our contracts prevented us from making
the news of our marriage and then the baby public, so it has been top secret! But I never thought I would have my baby
here on a top secret base, and I have to thank the two wonderful captains who
did such a magnificent job while we were stuck in that elevator and who ensured
my little girl had the best possible start in life, despite the unexpected
nature of her arrival.” There was
another round of applause and both Scarlet and Blue looked extremely
embarrassed. Jeanie
continued, “Matt and I decided on names for the baby some time ago; we chose
Angela for a girl as the expected date was around Christmas and we thought
Angela was a suitable name for the daughter of a Seraph.” She grinned and there was a ripple of
laughter from the onlookers. “Now I
want to add something to that and Matt agrees.”
Nash nodded vigorously. “We
know we can’t ever be told the real name of the man who delivered Angie, so we
can’t name her after him personally, but somehow it seems appropriate, given
Matt’s role as Captain Rue of PRISM, that our daughter’s full name will be
Angela Blue Nash.” “Sh-shoot,” Captain Blue gasped aloud in
astonishment, his embarrassment reaching acute levels when Jeanie blew him a
kiss. “Thank
goodness you kept that clean, Captain,” the colonel remarked dryly. The
interjection and the riposte were picked up by the sound equipment and broadcast
around the globe, as the assembled crew and visitors joined in laughter and
applause. “The voice
of Colonel White heralds the climax of our broadcast,” Roberts said, delighted
at how things were working out.
“Ladies and gentlemen of PRISM, if you would care to join us here…” The cast of the show, wearing their
colourful costumes, went to stand around the President and the happy new family. Drake DeBonnaire, considerably subdued
after his confession, stood in the centre, closest to the World President as had
been agreed, but found himself standing in significant isolation as the other
actors grouped themselves apart from him. “Now, I
would be delighted if all of the personnel of Cloudbase would join us in singing ‘When the stars
shine down at Christmas’,” Roberts announced.
“Come on, Spectrum, let the people of the world hear you, even if they
can’t see you!” Everyone
looked at the colonel, wondering what he would say at this deviation from the
agreed schedule. White sensed the
longing in the crowd and sighed, giving the unrepentant World President an
exasperated glance. “As you
wish, Mr President,” he said, with a nod at his personnel. A rough, yet
enthusiastic, cheer went up. “That
doesn’t include you, Blue,” Scarlet cried, forgetting the ongoing broadcast in
his enthusiasm. “This is the season
of goodwill to all men and your singing can only be classed as aural warfare!” “Gee,
thanks, Scarlet…” Blue retorted good-naturedly enough. “You’re no Caruso yourself, you know?” “Gentlemen,”
White interjected, raising his hand to quell the jocularity. “Remember where you are.” “Sorry,
sir,” they replied smartly. The jaunty,
jingling tune started over the sound system and the cast of the TV show began to
sway and snap their fingers in time to the beat. Unseen by the global audience of millions
the crew of Cloudbase did the same.
Captain Scarlet had his arm around Rhapsody Angel, who had come off duty in time
to join the audience for the broadcast, while Symphony Angel was holding Captain
Blue’s hand and swinging it back and forth to the beat, as she belted out the
words: When the stars shine down at
Christmas There’ll be peace across all lands And all the children’s laughter as
they clap their little hands Will make everybody happy that it’s
Christmastime at last; And the perils of the world are a
thing now of the past. As the music
faded in an excited round of laughter and applause, everyone in the room
exclaimed: “Merry Christmas, everyone!”
“‘Merry Xmas, Earthmen’? You are sure
that’s what it said?” Colonel White asked Captain Grey for confirmation. Grey nodded.
“It certainly looked like it, Colonel.” “Has the
full system diagnostic been completed yet?” White asked. “It finished
about five minutes ago, sir.
The Chief can’t find anything wrong.
Lieutenant Green is still running the computer diagnostic.” “Nothing at
all wrong?” Colonel White rubbed his
chin thoughtfully. “No, sir.”
Grey hesitated. “Could we assume that the Mysterons were,
for once, entering into the spirit of the occasion and simply wishing us
‘compliments of the season’?” “I doubt the
Mysterons understand the spirit of Christmas, Captain,” White reasoned. Grey
shrugged. “Well, nothing happened
and the problem with the power outage cascade was traced to the visitors and
their illicit connection to the power grid, so maybe it was a coincidence?” “I wish I
had your optimism, Captain.” “Yes, sir.” They were
alone in the colonel’s ready room off from the main Control Room. In the canteen and on the Promenade Deck
below them, several parties were in full swing and in the distance they could
hear traditional Christmas songs belting out of the sound systems: What will your daddy do when he sees
your mother kissing Santa Claus?
Ah-haaaa! President
Roberts was in high spirits and it seemed that even DeBonnaire’s transgression
was going to be forgiven – or at least, go unpunished. The cast and crew of the show were
not inclined to be so forgiving and it was quite possible that the high-handed
treatment they had received from DeBonnaire over the years was going to be
repaid with considerable interest. The colonel
glanced at the security camera displays and saw that on the Promenade Deck,
which was suitably decorated with lights and Christmas garlands, Captain Ochre
was dancing energetically with one of the Seraphs, while Captain Magenta was
deep in conversation with another of the young ladies. In the canteen, Rhapsody Angel was
surrounded by a couple of handsome actors and three admiring technicians, while
Symphony was enjoying the attentions of the World President himself. Jeanie Johnson was sleeping in Sick Bay
with her baby daughter at her side, but her husband was getting quietly drunk in
company with Captains Scarlet and Blue. “I wish I could believe the Mysterons believed in
Christmas,” White said with considerable longing in his voice. “Yes, sir;
it’d be nice if we could believe they did,” Grey replied, surprising the colonel
who hadn’t realised he had voiced his thought aloud. “Lieutenant Green to Colonel White;
come in please, Colonel.” “Go ahead,
Lieutenant.” “I have the diagnostic report, sir.” Green paused then rushed on. “It would suggest that the message Captain
Grey saw was the result of a… prank, sir.” “A prank?”
White glared at Ochre’s gyrating form on the monitor.
“What exactly do you mean, Lieutenant?” “Well, sir, it seems that Technician
Janice Hickman had programmed Technician Liam Reilly’s screen to display the
message on Christmas Day at the start of his shift. Sir.
It seems that the power cascade triggered the message early, sir, and
that’s what Captain Grey saw. Sir.” Mentally
apologising to Captain Ochre for suspecting him without cause, the colonel said,
“Very well, Lieutenant. You will, of
course, make this known to the Chief, won’t you? And I will expect a report on my desk
with details of the retraining of both technicians by… let’s say Twelfth Night.” “S.I.G., Colonel.” White could
hear the smile in his officer’s voice. “Oh, and Lieutenant, you will make it
clear to the Chief and both technicians that if anything like this ever happens
again I will have them off Cloudbase quicker than they can say ‘Season’s
Greetings’.” “S.I.G., sir. Green out.” Captain Grey
was grinning. “You see, Colonel,
sometimes wishes do come true at Christmas.” “Only in so
far as the Mysterons were not involved this time, Captain, but yes, we can still
hope,” White replied, with a rare smile on his face.
Boxing Day
was something of an anti-climax on Cloudbase.
The World President and his guests had left, and the broadcast was
nothing but a memory; although Lieutenant Green had announced that it had
received the biggest ever audience numbers for a live broadcast and that the
telecast was already the biggest downloaded programme in the history of the
World Broadcasting Corporation. “You actually delivered it?” Symphony Angel asked Captain Blue. “Yes; I delivered the baby. Well, I caught it as it slipped out, to
be truthful.” “That’s
amazing,” Rhapsody commented admiringly.
“And what was Paul doing while you were doing this?” “Oh, he was
supporting Jeanie Johnson, literally: she was leaning against him and he was
helping her with her breathing. We
had no pain killers, so it was pretty tough on her,” Blue explained. He was
sitting in the canteen surrounded by Symphony, Rhapsody and Nurse Ingram, being
quizzed. Several people had come by
their table to express their congratulations to him and he was starting to feel
rather uncomfortable about the whole event. “You both
did a good job,” Belinda Ingram reassured him.
“Jeanie came through it pretty well, with hardly any tearing. Doctor Fawn commented that for natural
tearing rather than an episiotomy, it wasn’t at all bad.” Blue shifted
uneasily. “Fawn told me how to
support the head as it crowned, so the perineal tissues weren’t torn. I don’t
think I did it quite right, but I only
had to help the baby rotate to free the shoulder once the head was out… then she
sort of… just slipped out.” “You sound
like quite an expert,” Rhapsody said.
She grinned at her fellow Angel pilot.
“You won’t have to worry, Symph, when your turn comes.” “Oh no,”
Blue said quickly. “Next time I shall be doing the hand holding and someone else can
work the business end!” Nurse Ingram
and Rhapsody Angel burst into laughter as Symphony protested at that
announcement by vehemently thumping her fiancé’s shoulder. “But, Älskling, whenever you have a baby it’ll
be with every modern convenience and not in some poky elevator,” he protested. Belinda
nodded. “And at least he hasn’t said
he won’t be there at all, Symphony… all too many men can’t take it – even these
days.” “All men are
wimps,” Symphony remarked sourly. Rhapsody
agreed. “Yeah, I mean look at ‘man flu’.
Two sneezes and a sore throat and they think they’re dying. It’s probably
a good job they don’t have to suffer with periods, never mind babies: they’d be
invalids for most of their lives…” “Yeah,”
Symphony said, with a sardonic glance at Blue. “They have it easy really, don’t
they?” The three
women glanced at each other and said in unison: “And they
still call us the weaker sex…” With a groan
of abject defeat, Blue dropped his head into his hands. Oblivious of the conspiratorial,
yet affectionately amused, smiles of his three companions, he muttered, “I think I’d rather face the Mysterons
than a group of women indulging in the pastime of Man Bashing.” He looked up so suddenly that Rhapsody
only just managed to cover her smile with a sombre expression. “I
apologise, okay?” Blue said. “I
apologise for being male, for not suffering the inconveniences of being female
and for being unable to have babies.
I apologise for helping Jeanie Johnson have her baby and for anything else I
have no control over which upsets you or anything I have inadvertently done that
offends your sensibilities. What
more can I say?” Rhapsody’s
smile had grown into a broad grin during this speech. She placed a hand on his arm and said,
“Adam, on behalf of womankind, I accept your apology.
You are probably the most sensible man I think I have ever met. We may have to consider making you an
honorary female.” Blue’s head
dropped again. “Just shoot me now,
please…before the other guys do it.” Symphony
slipped an arm over his hunched shoulders and hugged him. “Oh, Sky, how I do love you,” she purred,
grinning at the others over his bent head.
He peered up
at her, with an exaggerated hang-dog expression. “You do?
Really?” “Really.
So much so that you might even be forgiven for all those terrible faults
you’ve just admitted.” Blue’s expression grew hopeful and he started to smile.
“One day,” Symphony concluded, with a teasing wink of her eye.
In the brightly lit clinical ward of
PRISM’s command base, Colonel Fright turned to Doctor Kildeer and placed a hand
on the surgeon’s shoulder. “Do all you can, Doctor. I know it
was simply evil misfortune that trapped Starlight in the burning building, but
it is a tragedy for PRISM. Rue and
the fire fighters performed miracles in their effort to rescue him, I just hope
they weren’t too late. He has
suffered such horrifying injuries.” “Don’t worry, Colonel, PRISM’s
medical staff have the best equipment and finest skills. Even after such terrible burns there is
hope - and we will rebuild Starlight’s face if we have to,” Kildeer promised. Fright nodded. “PRISM needs Captain Starlight to ensure
that we can continue to protect the Earth from the evils that face us. All of the men and women of PRISM are
willing to lay down their lives in the service of their fellow humans, but
somehow Starlight embodies the courage and devotion of the whole organisation. He is the human face of PRISM and we look
to him to lead us in the fight.” Doctor Kildeer, a small man with
large, doe-like eyes, nodded and moved silently to the bedside of the still
figure. Mellifluous Seraph was weeping by the
door of the ward. “Oh, Colonel, will
Starlight survive?” Colonel Fright placed a fatherly arm
around the young black woman and looked into the camera, his concern radiating
from every pore. “We must hope and pray that he does,
Mellifluous. We must just hope and
pray.” The scene dissolved, and, as emotive
music welled up onto the soundtrack, the screen showed pages ripping off a
day-by-day desk diary. The weeks
mounted up… One month… Two months… …Three Months Later…. The new scene opened in the familiar
setting of Starlight’s personal quarters.
Kismet Seraph sashayed into shot and called back over her shoulder to an
unseen companion. “While you’re in the shower,
Starlight, I will make coffee for us.
Don’t be too long, will you?
We’re on duty soon and you mustn’t be late for your first day back on
duty!” “You’re right, Kismet. I’m looking forward to getting back to
full duty again. Its been too long
since I was at Rue’s side fighting for truth and justice. He’s done a great job during my
recuperation – him and all the other
captains – and the dear Seraphs, of course.” “We missed having you around,
Starlight,” Kismet simpered. “But I
have enjoyed our weekend in the Californian sun.
I wish it could have lasted forever…” Starlight’s figure was seen walking
into the shower and there was the sound of running water and splashing. Kismet made coffee, humming to
herself. She carried the mugs over
to the low couch and settled down, arranging her kimono-style robe around her to
reveal a length of shapely leg. The water stopped and moments later
Captain Starlight emerged from the cubicle.
Above the towel wrapped
around his slim hips, an impressive array of muscles and a chunky, tanned torso
was revealed for the first time. He
was rubbing his damp, dark hair with another towel. “Come on, before it gets cold,”
Kismet chided sweetly. “Sure,” Starlight said. He stopped drying his hair and dropped
the spare towel to reveal his handsome, young face.
“Our future starts today, Kismet,” he said. “Oh, yes, Captain Starlight. This is the first day of the rest of our
lives and we will have so many new adventures.. .” The New Captain Starlight smiled into
the camera until the picture faded and the jaunty signature tune started. “Captain Starlight….. He’s the one
who knows the enemy’s game. Captain Starlight… to his many foes a
dangerous name…. a superman!” A voice-over announced: “Captain
Starlight and the members of PRISM are fictional characters, any resemblance to
any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Join us soon for the next series of
Captain Starlight of PRISM, starring Dane Keene as the New Captain Starlight! In the
Officers’ Lounge on Cloudbase, Captain Ochre turned the broadcast off and
glanced across at his companions including Rhapsody and Symphony Angels, who
were sitting side-by-side on the couch, transfixed by the TV monitor. “Well,
girls; there you have it. Out with
the old and in with the new, as they say. It’s amazing what you can achieve in a
power-shower.” “Hmm,”
Symphony said appreciatively.
She closed her eyes and drew her legs up closer to her body, raising her hands
to lift her red-gold hair from where it lay on her shoulders and piled it up on
her head, allowing the strands to tumble through her fingers. A lascivious smile played on her full
lips. “Is that a
positive ‘hmm’ or a negative one?” Ochre enquired quite unnecessarily. “Oh,
definitely a positive; he is well
tasty,” Symphony replied. “I think
he’ll be a big hit.” “Extremely tasty,” Rhapsody agreed
happily. “You mean,
you think he’s better than that idol of flawless masculinity, Drake DeBonnaire?”
Captain Magenta asked, in the hope of provoking an outburst. Rhapsody
gave him a pitying glance. “A
cardboard cut-out would be better than DeBonnaire, Patrick. Nobody really took him seriously as an
action hero; he was far too camp, for a start.
They may have intended Captain Starlight to be a hard-hitting drama, but
he made it into an unintentional comedy.
Nolie was telling me that according to the fanzines, the new series is
going to be pitched for a more mature audience, with proper plots and a much
more ensemble cast. Still, I
hope they don’t make it too solemn – every life needs a little humour in it,
after all.” “Very true,”
Captain Scarlet agreed. “And
DeBonnaire is certainly a clown, he proved that on Cloudbase.” “It hasn’t
taken the TV company long to get rid of him,” Magenta remarked. Rhapsody
explained, “It seems Drake always refused to renew his contract for longer than
one series, so that while the show was so popular he could demand more money for
every new series. That’s why they
always had cliff-hangers at the end of the series and the final episode was
never filmed until they knew if he was coming back. This time they simply didn’t offer to
renew his contract at all. The
fan sites were awash with speculation, but, of course, DeBonnaire couldn’t say
why he was being dropped without revealing what he’d done.” “It was a
clever way to recast the part,” Captain Grey commented. “And a good marketing
ploy to keep everyone guessing right until the end of the series who was going
to play the new Starlight.” “I hope they
don’t decide to recast the Seraphs,” Ochre commented. “I rather like the ones they have.” “Yes, we
know you do,” Grey remarked. ”Don’t
you have a date with Concord Seraph pencilled in for your next leave?” Ochre
grinned salaciously. “Sure
do.” “Still
trying to work out which bits wobble, Rick?” Captain Blue asked genially. Ochre
coloured slightly as his friends chuckled.
He hoped that by now they’d have forgotten the comments he’d made before any of
them had met the actors for the first time. I should’ve known Blue would never
forget,
he thought, resigned to having the mickey taken between now and his date with
the actress. “So, it’s a
thumbs up for the new Captain Starlight, then?” Magenta said. “Getting shot of good ol’ Drake was a
good move, you reckon?” Rhapsody
nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, I
shall be watching. Especially if, as
I hope they do, they end every episode with a Starlight shower scene…” “Dianne, really!” Captain Scarlet exclaimed in mock horror at her comments, as
Symphony exclaimed: “Oh yes! That’d be worth watching the show
for on its own.” With her
large, blue eyes sparkling with amusement, Rhapsody went to Scarlet’s chair and
put her arms around his shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Captain; I am sure I speak for all the Spectrum Angels when I say,
however hunky the new officer in PRISM is, none of us would swap any one of our captains for all of them.” “Too right,”
Symphony said, sidling up to Captain Blue’s chair. “Although, you have to admit… Dane Keene
does wear a towel very well.” “Well, if
that’s all it takes…” Blue retorted. “Yes?” she
encouraged, as he fell silent. “If that’s
all it takes, then we have nothing to worry about,” Scarlet concluded, coming to
his friend’s support. “And if you
don’t believe me, Karen, you can come and scrub my back any time you like…” “It isn’t your back she’s interested in,” Rhapsody
purred in his ear as she leant down to whisper.
“But if you’re asking for volunteers…” And then it
was Captain Scarlet’s turn to blush.
Author’s Notes: ‘Captain
Starlight of PRISM’ first saw light of day in ‘More important than Substance’ and was based on an idea
devised by Sue Stanhope and myself.
That never came to fruition, but Sue allowed me to use the basis for my story. Occasional references have been
made to the ‘TV show’ in other stories of mine and I have always had a vague
idea that one day I would find a way to get Captain Starlight to Cloudbase. Finally, I
did find a way and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing
it. My thanks,
as ever, are due to Hazel Köhler, who gets the results dumped on her whenever the Inspiration
Fairy’s been round at my place, and who always instils rigorous punctuation into
the resulting waffle with great tact.
There are
not enough ways to say ‘Thank you’ to Chris Bishop, for her wonderful website,
the fantastic stories she entertains us with and – I’m lucky enough to say – for
her friendship. So, I am
afraid, ‘Thanks, Chris’ will have to convey all that and more. Captain
Scarlet and The Mysterons™ belongs to Carlton – I think – and possibly some
other companies as well… it isn’t mine anyway, so I am only tinkering on the
edge of what is theirs and I mean no harm by it. Gerry and
Sylvia Anderson showed us all just what puppets could do to save the world, back
in the 1960s and I, for one, believed every word. My imagination owes them and the
wonderful crew that brought their creations to life,
a great debt of thanks. Finally,
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone! Marion Woods 12 November
2011
Other stories from Marion Woods
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