Maharg67's Den (shorter works, short stories, poetry, etc.)

[Maharg67]

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Forum%20Additives/rep_Tardis_500-1-1-1.jpg

-13-
THE ADVENTURES OF THE DOCTOR AND COMPANIONS
IN LONDON, THE 1960s

 

The Silver Beatles were playing live at a local amphitheater, being Paul, John, Ringo, Mike, Stella and Liz. The posters were plastered even in places where they were legally not supposed to be placed. In one of the safer, Green Zones, of London the man walked quickly, effortlessly along footpaths past shops, commercial offices and other establishments. He was of the TimeMasters, was a TimeMaster Initiate of an infiltrator. Now he was doing some trouble shooting for his angry overlords. TimeMaster traitors had escaped and taken with them highly valuable resources. They had set up in that city, of that world, and had started experimenting with superdrugs. The traitors had been clumsy and had drawn attention to themselves, which was something that the TimeMasters would never have done.

Harold came to a small, meek, discrete looking bookshop tucked away between a big fancy record shop and a fancy women's clothing boutique. He slipped in through the door and then was in a real vintage and collectors' bookshop selling not just older books and special editions but other exotica in print. It was also known, unofficially of course, that the shop sold under the counter pornography, fanatical political and other publications of the kind legally banned. So, along with the large majority of more typical customers, there were buyers of the illegal stuff from terrorists to gangsters and those with dark addictions.

Harold picked up some rare books, of the sort that he both typically bought and actually enjoyed reading, then took his stuff up to the counter. He smiled at the young woman behind the counter, in her minidress and matching high-heels. She smiled warmly at him but her eyes remained hard, somehow. She was another servant of the TimeMasters, as were others there, and the bookshop was a TimeMaster outpost. In her case she was but a clone, though a very sophisticated and dangerous cyborg-clone. They chatted but said nothing much. She processed the sale but when he left the shop, in his bags were three items that he had not openly paid for.

In a small, moderate quality, apartment that was his official home, Harold put the bought books and comic-books to one side, then carefully placed the other three items on the kitchen-dining table in front of himself. His official girlfriend, Nancy, was making some coffee and toasted sandwiches. She was another cyborg-clone and also dangerous. Most of the top floor apartment was genuinely human but some relatively small features had been altered. The television antennae was far from being just that but still kept good television reception. A small upright piano hid some surprises and yet played as a normal piano would.

Item one was a small resupply package. It had new ammo in the form of 9mm calibre pistol bullets, loose, in a box, some bottles of vitamin mineral pills, and a few other useful items. As much as possible, as was efficient, the TimeMaster infiltrators used local technologies.

Item two was a very compact multiple function advanced device that was in the form of a basic silvery bracelet. Harold was surprised. The device was one that he would only be issued with in case there was special need for it housed some TimeMaster secrets inside it. That it would be given to a mere Initiate like himself, well that meant a great deal. He slipped bracelet onto his right wrist, leaving the left wrist free for the wristwatch that was not just a wristwatch. A short, sharp jab of pain went through him as the device melded to his body and linked itself to his brain.

Item three explained the situation, in a round about way. It was a neat stack of large, colored, 2Dphotos of local type and of relatively good quality. They showed views of Torchwood Agents Jack Harkness and Gwen but also a young woman whom had not appeared before. Harold focused on this woman because he had already gained other photos of the Torchwood Agents. He studied her features carefully and then he frowned. There was something familiar about them. Then he knew and he was not pleased. They were features of the last known, documented, regeneration of the Doctor, the TimeLord who was a strong possible threat. With great difficulty, and a spending of valuable resources, the TimeMasters had placed one infiltrator into the TimeCitadel of the TimeLords. They knew that it was only a matter of a short time before the infiltrator was caught.

Not just a TimeLord but perhaps more than one TimeLord and they were on the target world where the TimeMasters had decided to set up their future base for a great timespace empire. Now that plan was at possible risk and, with it, the wasting of many valuable resources. The TimeMaster Command Council would be far from pleased about this new development. Harold was as concerned about what they might do next as he was about the TimeLordly appearance and the activities of the traitors.

 

-CONTINUED-

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Forum%20Additives/rep_Tardis_500-1-1-1.jpg

-14-
THE ADVENTURES OF THE DOCTOR AND COMPANIONS
IN LONDON, THE 1960s

 

Weavorks and weathels were coming through the rift, both being humanoids with huge mouths full of great teeth but weavorks were bigger, stronger while weathels were weaker but faster and more agile. Weavorks lumbered along too quickly, each a third again bigger than an average human adult. Some of both were coming along the big sewerage tunnel of red brickwork, recently repaired and upgraded for security reasons as much as because the tunnels needed working on.

The British SAS Soldiers were fighting alongside British Commandos, Australian SAS Soldiers, New Zealand SAS Soldiers and American SEALs. It was a large taskforce for such a search and destroy mission, being five platoons plus special support elements. Nobody seemed to know why so many rift-monsters were showing up in the London Sewer Tunnels and other underground areas.

Along with weavorks and weathels, there were reports of strange reptilian monsters, giant spider things and big bat like creatures. Not just reports of dubious nature but from workers, police and even soldiers who had dealt with them. So far the wounded had shown no dangerous infections but all were taken to the one heavily secured underground hospital anyway.

Shots rang out as soldiers crouched in a well placed defensive line, picking off weathels that came racing towards them, howling with rage. Specialists tried shooting them with tranquilizer darts, if given a chance, but were not always given one. A weathel normally took at least two darts to knock them out, a weavork at four darts.

The screaming howl of a bat monster came echoing through the tunnels. An American SEAL cursed softly and got frowned at by his sergeant though most their felt like doing the same. None of them had been trained to deal with that kind of threat and their fighting experience had not exactly prepared them for such battles.

Big bulky FN-FALs fired along with other automatic weapons like American assault-carbines. A fragmentation hand-grenade exploded in another tunnel. Something screamed out in alien agony. Then a soldier screamed, a noise that was far too quickly cut off. Sometimes the big, amphibious, reptilian monsters came lunging out of the flowing channels of sewerage water. An 40mm calibre grenadeshell exploded in that other tunnel.

The fighting went on but with what result? The monsters were harder to kill than humans and they were coming in increasing numbers.

-CONTINUED-

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Forum%20Additives/rep_Tardis_500-1-1-1.jpg

-15-
THE ADVENTURES OF THE DOCTOR AND COMPANIONS
IN LONDON, THE 1960s

 

SarahJane Smith, young and attractive woman journalist, was busy writing up a report in a small fish-chip shop in the East End. She was in an area untouched, directly, by any of the troubles but where tensions were increasing and there were other troubles. Refugees from the troubled parts of London were being resettled there and causing some crowding and other problems. Bobbies were walking around with body-armor and guns. Criminals were taking up guns for this reason but also for less open ones. Soldiers were increasingly present in the East End, often moving through it in armored vehicles or big old army lorries. The Military Police were also more common.

SarahJane was frustrated with growing government censorship on the press, of the fearfulness of her editors, of the growing difficulty in picking truth out of the increasing number of whispered stories going around. Monsters in the sewers, superthugs taking over part of London, people vanishing, fairies in the bottom of gardens, the increasing appearance of ghosts and much else besides. She had also picked up strong, reliable bits of information about the presence of Military Special Forces, of other agencies and even of something called Torchwood. She had heard about Torchwood before. It was something that one did not normally talk about, not even to other reporters because it was dangerous to do so. What had surprised her was that non-British forces were said to be functioning secretly in London, even American Special Forces and United Nations agencies.

Just what was going on?

Then she saw the young woman walking on the other side of the street, the attractive but nasty young blonde who had scowled hard at SarahJane once. Emily was her name. It was as much as SarahJane had learned but it was enough to intrigue her. So she had decided she would see if she could spot the young woman again and even follow her. She 'sensed' it was dangerous but it was not the first time she had put herself into danger and would not be the last. Yet, at that moment, she noticed two men following Emily at a distance and her survival sense told her that then was not the right moment to start following Emily. The two men were not thugs but seemed, in most ways, to be typical young businessmen. Yet they moved too smoothly, too dangerously, to be that. SarahJane had an excellent observational skill. She noticed things like that which is why she had made a few enemies and had gained the respect of various important people and groups.

The youthful middle aged man sat down across from her in the booth. SarahJane frowned softly at him for he had not asked permission to do so but then something told him he was there to speak to her, that he was not being rude.

He was handsome, rugged looking, wore stylish but not overly flashy gear. Had very dark wrap-around sunglasses. "If you are going to go after the truth, SarahJane Smith, then you had better have my assistance. My name is Gerald Dlareg. Surname is a little strange but is foreign in origin. You are facing a situation here far beyond anything you have ever confronted before." He pushed a large, thick plastic envelope across to her. "Inside you will find a notebook with names and addresses. I suggest you go to the first one that appears and introduce yourself to a man called the 'Doctor'. You will also find some cash in lightly used pound notes of smaller denominations, a thousand pounds worth, some very authentic fake documents and a 9mm calibre semiautomatic pistol with two full magazines of spare bullets. I know you have been forced to use a pistol before."

"Why are you helping me?" SarahJane was naturally suspicious of such unasked for generosity. "What do you want from me?"

Gerald smiled charmingly. "The people I work for, they want you to be successful, want you to survive. I do not ask questions but simply do what I need to do. What I do not know, I can not give away willingly or have forced from me." He slipped her a small business card. "That has a telephone number to an answering service, a GPO Box number and some other ways to reach me. Three of them are for emergencies only and I do mean that! I must leave you for now but I will be seeking you out in future. There are some other, special, items in the envelope. You take care, SarahJane Smith."

Then he was slipping away and was soon gone. SarahJane sat there in amazement but made sure the big envelope vanished quickly into her bulky shoulderbag. When the waitress came she ordered some lunch and was generous this time knowing that she had a more cash to spend than she normally did.

-CONTINUED-

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[3WINTERS]

I'm sorry it took me so long to come back on, I really need to make it part of my daily rounds, I've been reading your latest story 'EPIC OF FATES: STORY OF STORIES', I must say I've thoroughly enjoyed the time out to read this. Your writing is very well done without being overcomplicated, your characters are very well fleshed out and your description over the scenes really helps me get the picture moving in my mind.

As always I will look forward to your future updates and, well get to them a lot sooner

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippity Zip-A-Long!

A MERRY DC WASTELANDS XMAS

Father Xmas shot through the sky above the DC Wastelands and his vertisleigh roared with power as he shot around a skyscraper. Three evil black Enclave fighter-vertibirds were trying to shoot him down because President Eden wanted all the Children's presents for himself. What a cad! They shot smart-missiles at him that promptly turned into surprised looking Xmas turkeys who luckily had turkey adjusted parachutes.

Brothers/Sisters of Steel had put out steel stocking for their Children of Steel. Now they raced to save Santa as their AA-laser batteries opened up from the DC Citadel. Laser beams spat through the sky but turned into beautiful rainbow effects with no damage.

Santa laughed and his 'ho ho ho' filled the DC Wastelands. He would not have any death. No, he pressed a lever and giftbots, like eyebots but with claws carefully carrying gifts, shot out to start delivering presents to all.

The vertibirds turned and went back to base for President Eden suddenly realized he wanted a new computer subprogram for Xmas, which meant he would have to leave Santa alone.

A nasty trio of raiders held up their bloody ragged stockings hopefully and wished for fine whiskey, cigars and gold plated pistols.

Ho ho ho and a merry old Fallout Xmas to one and all.

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippity Zip-A-Long. Sorry, I just had to do it!

BAB AND BOB TAKE A SHOWER

BOB: "Oh, isn't lovely to share a shower, Bab."

BAB: "Please pass the soap, Bob."

BOB: "Why don't I wash your back, Bab?"

BAB: "Oh, that would be lovely, Bob!"

BOB: "I wonder why the neighbors are staring, Bab."

BAB: "Yes, Bob, haven't they seen anybody have a rain shower before, in their front yard?"

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippity Zip-A-Long.

IN THE FALLING RAIN ON A DROWNING WORLD

The rain is coming down hard
is smashing against my frozen sodden flesh
as I seek shelter in a landscape with out protection
What can I say
the wind and rain sweep away my words
even as they leave my mouth
What can I do
but try to survive
as my land drowns in a tide of rising waters
What have we done?
Why did we not see the consequences of our actions?
Why was I no less blind than the others?
I have earned the fate that I have gained
As my tears are lost in the driving rain
And there are none to see the shudders of my freezing body

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippity Zip-A-Long.

The way to happiness
lies as the way of self awareness
otherwise how do we, do I, guide ourselves myself through the entanglements and pitfalls of life
safely to some kind of enlightenment?

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippity Zip-A-Long, with permission, being a short poem by Omeletter!

Short poem that I made (Its not about you, or somebody else!)

As I look upon your face
you remind me of a summer day
of a distant and secret place so far away

By Omeletter

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippity Zip-A-Long!

:armscrossed: PEANUT BUTTER MAN :facepalm:

I am the Peanut Butter Man
Ever fearing to be
spread upon hot toast
and devoured
by a hungry mouth.

Edited January 14, 2014 by Maharg67