The Bloated One
Well-Known Member
Hi everyone,
Rocking on with my opus, The Adventures Of Tarquin Seebohm Jenkins. Below I have put a piece with a lot of dialogue. I am still learning about dialogue and how to punctuate it, so if anyone has the time to check it through I would be delighted. Comments and thoughts on the pacing (Peter Graham, I know you're out there...) and the content, overall feel for the piece (CTG, sharpen that pencil) are as always welcome and acted upon.
Background: Our hero Tarquin has just been shot by a crocodile looking alien in the tea shop in the small English village of Steeple Snoring. Rescued by his mentor, Jules Rigsworth on a Chesterfield sofa he has been rushed back to 2340....
The Chesterfield sofa materialized in 2340 belching smoke and flames. Jules had taken them straight to the BIF headquarters space port. Rescue crews pulled Rigsworth and the others clear of the sofa before it erupted in a ball of fire. Tarquin lay motionless, face up on the hover trolley. He had a pulse but it was faint. Rushed to the emergency wing of the BIF's hospital he was put under the care of Professor Tommy Cramdunkle and prepared for surgery and decontamination. The Leche laced their lances with poisonous spores that multiplied inside their host with terrifying speed and lethal consequences. But, that wasn’t all. Accompanying the spores were hallucinogens that sent the victim’s mind into psychosis. Even if Tarquin survived, it was unlikely he would ever be the same boy again.
Jules’ rescue had political ramifications. The Confederation's Security Council were called in for an emergency sitting. The Griddleback and Leche Ambassadors had informed the Confederation High Council of the rescues illegality. They helpfully provided a myriad of time travel ordinances Jules had broken, even suggesting it was an act of war, though know one knew exactly how. The Confederation Security Council had little choice. Jules was arrested and charged with manipulating Earth history and saving a cognitive life form. Thankfully, the Council didn't see this as an act of war, despite protestations from the Griddleback Ambassador. Only Jules appeared on the arrest warrant.
Denied bail, Jules was incarcerated in a penal colony on Antriconian and allowed one telecall. He immediately contacted Archie and told him to travel to the planet Tharg with Alice Cooper and find Smodius P. Munchfumble, a Zargothian Advocate and explain what happened, he'll know what to do.
“Don’t use wormholes,” said Jules, “they’ll be monitoring them. Use your Sinclair.”
# # #
Before leaving for Tharg, Archie visited the emergency ward at the hospital. Standing before a plated glass cubical Archie watched in silence. His time in the future had been fun, but today, the awful realisation that Rhia was dead and Tarquin barely alive hit hard. He rolled Rhia’s trainee guide hologram disc in his fingers, remembering how proud she had been to receive it. She had no idea about the BIFs and their battles against the Griddleback, Leche and other despotic nations. He looked at the disc and dropped it, crushing it under his boot. Rhia’s fairytale was over and Tarquin’s snuffed out before it had barely begun. Reality was dawning.
He looked at Tarquin's unconscious body, covered in a grey metallic shroud inside a tunnel of silver mesh. His head inside a round transparent sphere and submerged in a bubbling, blue translucent liquid. A metal collar held the sphere and liquid in place. Tarquin's long, curly hair was gone and his face pale and drawn. Archie shivered, looking at his new friend, unconscious inside a light bulb full of effervescing chemicals. Lower down his body, and moving at incredible speed, flew twenty android arms in pre-determined patterns inside his chest. A plethora of coloured lights flashed, throbbed and sparked in a dervish dance of light. Screens full of graphs, coloured bars and screeds of text moved at breakneck speed, relayed to a watching nurse drone. Archie stood for over an hour. The surgery and decontamination was expected to last another twenty-four. A voice boomed from a speaker.
“Would Archie Campbell please come to the Medical Command Centre.”
# # #
Professor Tommy Cramdunkle sat forward on his hoverstool inside the command centre high above the patient isolation pods, staring at one particular screen. There was a knock at the open door. The Professor turned. Archie Campbell stood in the doorway.
“Come in Archie, I need to ask you some questions,” said Tommy,
pointing to a hoverstool. “Do you know this Jenkins boy well?” he said, offering Archie a bowl full of lollipops.
“Not really,” said Archie, taking a large green coloured sweet, “but everyone talks of his potential.”
Tommy smiled. “Look at this.” The Professor pressed buttons on a console floating in front of him. The screen’s contents magnified.
“Ugh!” said, Archie, “what are those?”
“Dr Phillius Santander’s Nanobots. Millions of them. They shouldn’t be there, only field agents are authorised to use them, but I am damned pleased to see them.”
Archie scratched his head. “They’re. . .” he looked queasy, “not inside Tarquin are they?’
“Yep, Santa’s little helpers are rounding up the Leche spores and castrating them.” Tommy turned his chair to face Archie.
“Any idea who put them there?”
Archie shook his head, “Not a clue.”
“I found a puncture scar on Tarquin's chest. Someone injected them into his heart within the last 30 days.”
“How can you be so sure,” said Archie, mesmerised by the vast army of silver roundels herding yellow and red starfish like creatures through Tarquin’s arteries.
“Each bot is programmed through the injection device.” He took from his pocket a silver pen like instrument with a dozen coloured pins. ”Push the pins in a given sequence, then dial in a number here.” He pointed to the base. “This programmes the quantity of bots released and how they act.” He stabbed the needle end into an imaginary heart. “Press and the bots are pumped through the body.” Tommy turned back to the screen. “ But,” he said, shaking his head, “this is different.”
“Why?” asked Archie, taking the instrument from the Professor and looking at it.
“Shooting this combination and quantity was a death sentence, it’s ludicrously strong for any disease or virus known on earth.”
Archie’s shoulders sagged.
“He’s going to die, isn’t he.”
Tommy grinned.
“Far from it. You see, the bots have a timing mechanism and were about to start eating him from the inside out when the Leche spores arrived." He pointed to the screen. "The spores sweep through a host body and kill in minutes, but when these spores entered Tarquin it was manna from heaven for the ravenous bots.” Archie watched the carnage on screen.
“Brilliant," said Tommy, shaking his head, "bloody brilliant. Someone made a huge mistake. . .”
“and it saved Tarquin’s life.”
“Or,” said Tommy, wringing his hands and pursing his lips, “someone tried to kill him, not expecting a Leche to shoot him.“
“How long before we can talk to him?” asked Archie.
“Five days if all goes well. Once the bots have finished eating.”
# # #
Archie left the Medical Centre and stopped to take one more look at Tarquin through the glass.
“Come, we should visit Smodius.” Archie looked up. It was Alice Cooper, a recruit from the Shropshire Canal. They had started at the Guide School together several years before.
“I’ve been asked to join you,” she said, swinging a pack onto her shoulder, “It’ll be like old times.” She looked through the glass. “Is that Tarquin Jenkins?”
“Yes.”
“Will he make it?”
“He’s a fighter, a very special boy. He has a good chance,” said Archie, with a smile.
Rocking on with my opus, The Adventures Of Tarquin Seebohm Jenkins. Below I have put a piece with a lot of dialogue. I am still learning about dialogue and how to punctuate it, so if anyone has the time to check it through I would be delighted. Comments and thoughts on the pacing (Peter Graham, I know you're out there...) and the content, overall feel for the piece (CTG, sharpen that pencil) are as always welcome and acted upon.
Background: Our hero Tarquin has just been shot by a crocodile looking alien in the tea shop in the small English village of Steeple Snoring. Rescued by his mentor, Jules Rigsworth on a Chesterfield sofa he has been rushed back to 2340....
The Chesterfield sofa materialized in 2340 belching smoke and flames. Jules had taken them straight to the BIF headquarters space port. Rescue crews pulled Rigsworth and the others clear of the sofa before it erupted in a ball of fire. Tarquin lay motionless, face up on the hover trolley. He had a pulse but it was faint. Rushed to the emergency wing of the BIF's hospital he was put under the care of Professor Tommy Cramdunkle and prepared for surgery and decontamination. The Leche laced their lances with poisonous spores that multiplied inside their host with terrifying speed and lethal consequences. But, that wasn’t all. Accompanying the spores were hallucinogens that sent the victim’s mind into psychosis. Even if Tarquin survived, it was unlikely he would ever be the same boy again.
Jules’ rescue had political ramifications. The Confederation's Security Council were called in for an emergency sitting. The Griddleback and Leche Ambassadors had informed the Confederation High Council of the rescues illegality. They helpfully provided a myriad of time travel ordinances Jules had broken, even suggesting it was an act of war, though know one knew exactly how. The Confederation Security Council had little choice. Jules was arrested and charged with manipulating Earth history and saving a cognitive life form. Thankfully, the Council didn't see this as an act of war, despite protestations from the Griddleback Ambassador. Only Jules appeared on the arrest warrant.
Denied bail, Jules was incarcerated in a penal colony on Antriconian and allowed one telecall. He immediately contacted Archie and told him to travel to the planet Tharg with Alice Cooper and find Smodius P. Munchfumble, a Zargothian Advocate and explain what happened, he'll know what to do.
“Don’t use wormholes,” said Jules, “they’ll be monitoring them. Use your Sinclair.”
# # #
Before leaving for Tharg, Archie visited the emergency ward at the hospital. Standing before a plated glass cubical Archie watched in silence. His time in the future had been fun, but today, the awful realisation that Rhia was dead and Tarquin barely alive hit hard. He rolled Rhia’s trainee guide hologram disc in his fingers, remembering how proud she had been to receive it. She had no idea about the BIFs and their battles against the Griddleback, Leche and other despotic nations. He looked at the disc and dropped it, crushing it under his boot. Rhia’s fairytale was over and Tarquin’s snuffed out before it had barely begun. Reality was dawning.
He looked at Tarquin's unconscious body, covered in a grey metallic shroud inside a tunnel of silver mesh. His head inside a round transparent sphere and submerged in a bubbling, blue translucent liquid. A metal collar held the sphere and liquid in place. Tarquin's long, curly hair was gone and his face pale and drawn. Archie shivered, looking at his new friend, unconscious inside a light bulb full of effervescing chemicals. Lower down his body, and moving at incredible speed, flew twenty android arms in pre-determined patterns inside his chest. A plethora of coloured lights flashed, throbbed and sparked in a dervish dance of light. Screens full of graphs, coloured bars and screeds of text moved at breakneck speed, relayed to a watching nurse drone. Archie stood for over an hour. The surgery and decontamination was expected to last another twenty-four. A voice boomed from a speaker.
“Would Archie Campbell please come to the Medical Command Centre.”
# # #
Professor Tommy Cramdunkle sat forward on his hoverstool inside the command centre high above the patient isolation pods, staring at one particular screen. There was a knock at the open door. The Professor turned. Archie Campbell stood in the doorway.
“Come in Archie, I need to ask you some questions,” said Tommy,
pointing to a hoverstool. “Do you know this Jenkins boy well?” he said, offering Archie a bowl full of lollipops.
“Not really,” said Archie, taking a large green coloured sweet, “but everyone talks of his potential.”
Tommy smiled. “Look at this.” The Professor pressed buttons on a console floating in front of him. The screen’s contents magnified.
“Ugh!” said, Archie, “what are those?”
“Dr Phillius Santander’s Nanobots. Millions of them. They shouldn’t be there, only field agents are authorised to use them, but I am damned pleased to see them.”
Archie scratched his head. “They’re. . .” he looked queasy, “not inside Tarquin are they?’
“Yep, Santa’s little helpers are rounding up the Leche spores and castrating them.” Tommy turned his chair to face Archie.
“Any idea who put them there?”
Archie shook his head, “Not a clue.”
“I found a puncture scar on Tarquin's chest. Someone injected them into his heart within the last 30 days.”
“How can you be so sure,” said Archie, mesmerised by the vast army of silver roundels herding yellow and red starfish like creatures through Tarquin’s arteries.
“Each bot is programmed through the injection device.” He took from his pocket a silver pen like instrument with a dozen coloured pins. ”Push the pins in a given sequence, then dial in a number here.” He pointed to the base. “This programmes the quantity of bots released and how they act.” He stabbed the needle end into an imaginary heart. “Press and the bots are pumped through the body.” Tommy turned back to the screen. “ But,” he said, shaking his head, “this is different.”
“Why?” asked Archie, taking the instrument from the Professor and looking at it.
“Shooting this combination and quantity was a death sentence, it’s ludicrously strong for any disease or virus known on earth.”
Archie’s shoulders sagged.
“He’s going to die, isn’t he.”
Tommy grinned.
“Far from it. You see, the bots have a timing mechanism and were about to start eating him from the inside out when the Leche spores arrived." He pointed to the screen. "The spores sweep through a host body and kill in minutes, but when these spores entered Tarquin it was manna from heaven for the ravenous bots.” Archie watched the carnage on screen.
“Brilliant," said Tommy, shaking his head, "bloody brilliant. Someone made a huge mistake. . .”
“and it saved Tarquin’s life.”
“Or,” said Tommy, wringing his hands and pursing his lips, “someone tried to kill him, not expecting a Leche to shoot him.“
“How long before we can talk to him?” asked Archie.
“Five days if all goes well. Once the bots have finished eating.”
# # #
Archie left the Medical Centre and stopped to take one more look at Tarquin through the glass.
“Come, we should visit Smodius.” Archie looked up. It was Alice Cooper, a recruit from the Shropshire Canal. They had started at the Guide School together several years before.
“I’ve been asked to join you,” she said, swinging a pack onto her shoulder, “It’ll be like old times.” She looked through the glass. “Is that Tarquin Jenkins?”
“Yes.”
“Will he make it?”
“He’s a fighter, a very special boy. He has a good chance,” said Archie, with a smile.
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