Black Bulbs, The Christmas Story - For My Friends - 2011

We’re elves, but not the ones you’re imagining. We don’t wear the silly hats, or the pointy shoes. We’re Santa’s Special Forces and we don’t make the toys, we make the holiday. We wear the badge on the shoulder of our uniforms with pride.

It’s a single Christmas light, because without us, the rest won’t work. If we’re not doing our job behind the scenes, all those things that you think of when you think of Christmas wouldn’t be possible. My name is Robin. I am the commander of the Black Bulbs.

There are seven divisions of the Black Bulbs: Command, Intelligence, Logistics, Technology, Cryptids, Security, and Miracles. Each is responsible for an important component of Christmas tradition. We’ll find a way to make the stories real. We are the agents between Santa and the rest of the world. We can do the dirty work the other elves can’t.

And what we do can be denied, because, officially, we don’t exist.

 The Intelligence Service is responsible for Santa’s naughty and nice list. They monitor belief in Santa. They receive the letters with your wish lists. They know if you’ve been bad or good and if you got a lump of coal, they know exactly why. 

The following document is the standard form completed after a visit to a mall Santa.

Annex D to IV.4

FORM MPF(S) – W(SD2)

CHRISTMAS GIFT DATA REPORT (CAP. 485)

(“Juvenile”)

NAUGHTY OR NICE AND DESIRED GIFT CATAGORY FOR CHILD UNDER THE AGE OF TEN FOR THE PURPOSES OF PRESENT DELIVERY AND SELECTION

Name: __John_Rossi_____________________ M: _X_ F:___ Age:__7__

Date: _01/12/2011_ [dd/mm/yyyy]   Time: _15:31_ [24 hour]                               

Naughty: ___ Nice: _X_

Location: __Twin Pines Mall______________ Santa Number: _114(C)__

Elf designate regular/special* Identification: __Charlie 1486864____________

Desired gift from Santa/parents*: __Grown-up bicycle_________________

Desired gift from Santa/parents*: ___________BB gun__________________

Recommend category extra/large/medium/small/coal* Stocking yes/no*

Home address: ___449 South Birch Avenue_____________________

Delivery method chimney/window/stairs/door/vent/other* ___________________[specify]

Notes: ______Says little brother hit him. Broken dish “not his fault.” Pulled Santa’s beard. Does not believe mall Santa is real. Would not sit still for picture. No crying. See also: attached Christmas gift list (FORM IN91)_                                                               

                                                                                              _

Report completed: Date: _03/12/2011_ [dd/mm/yyyy]   Time: _09:12_ [24 hour]                               

* Delete whichever is inappropriate

Warning: Section 43E of the Ordinance makes it an offence punishable with a maximum of 1 year’s reindeer duty for the first occasion and 2 years’ reindeer duty on each subsequent occasion for any elf who makes a false or misleading statement in a material respect.

Version 8 – January 2008                                                                                                                                            1/1

 The Technology Branch is where Santa gets all his wonderful contraptions. You can’t have Christmas without things like a flying sleigh, time distorters, or weather machines. How else do you think Santa would be able to deliver all those presents on time?

This is a project completion memo.

BLACK BULB ENGINEERING BRANCH Building 17, Santa’s Workshop, North Pole “We never joke about our work.”

FROM:   Chad, Elf 1479377	DATE:         December 9, 2011
TO:         Robin, Elf 146945	SUBJECT:   2011 Model Santa’s Sleigh                        and New and Upgraded                     Christmas  Gadgets

I completed the 2011 model of Santa’s sleigh and all new or upgraded Christmas gadgets on December 9, 2011. The sleigh was designed to replace the outgoing model according to order No. F150i dated October 22, 2010 and includes all upgrades outlined by that document while meeting the performance targets specified in the executive memo dated December 26, 2010. All Christmas gadgets have been produced under standing order No. 852 and have passed relevant quality control standards. 

The sleigh is the first all-new model since 2004. A carbon-fibre-monocoque construction reduces weight by 210kg over the outgoing model which will increase maximum speed or payload. The aerodynamic body improves C_d to 0.330 for decreased air resistance and extended range. Ejector seats have been fitted for safety. Counter-detection measures have been enhanced. Initial flight testing of the sleigh from September 12 to September 26 demonstrated an unexpected destructive inclination to “Dutch roll”. This was found to be caused by the incorrect installation of the barge boards. This problem was resolved. Proper installation was found to have a positive effect on the stall characteristics of the sleigh.

For 2011 there are three new or upgraded Christmas gadgets. A new repackaged and automatic rappelling line and winch harness will allow easier entry into homes. The infrared tracking system has been upgraded for increased resolution and now penetrates up to three floors. When used in conjunction with the 2011 model sleigh’s on-board processor the infrared system will be able to designate and follow up to seven individuals. A new model 20 watch laser will be issued to all Black Bulb command staff. This will replace all issued model 19s. However, on December 4 the assembly line was damaged and production has been slowed. The revised target for full implementation of the changeover is January 5, 2012.

As of December 9, 2011 all major projects of Engineering Branch for Christmas 2011 are complete. All wishes for Christmas 2012 must be made in writing to the Branch no later than November 9, 2012.
                                                  

                                         

The elves in Logistics are the unsung heroes of Christmas. They are responsible for the Christmas budget funding and for ensuring that the toy makers get the supplies they need to do their work. They are the unit with the most responsibility in terms of elf-to-human contact as most of their work occurs in the field. Any time a musician releases a Christmas album, Logistics takes a piece of the pie.

These are transcripts from an externally-recorded Christmas-preparation operation that illustrate the department’s important role.

April 15, 2011

16:05:57	DEALER	So you... You get us the nog[?] and -ah- tow[?].
16:06:01	ELF 1	Yeah. Right.
16:06:02	DEALER	We need thirty. Maybe thirty-five.
16:06:04	ELF 1	No problem. No problem.
16:06:05	DEALER	Then -ah- we deliver?
16:06:07	ELF 2	And ship.
16:06:07	DEALER	And ship? To there?
16:06:08	ELF 1	Yes. Leave me the rest.
16:06:12	DEALER	Let me know. Ok. The list.
16:06:14	ELF 1	Soon.  And it must be a secret, right? Keep it all quiet.
16:06:17	DEALER	Yes. Ok.
16:06:19		[end tape 223]

September 3, 2011                                                                         

22:13:17	ELF 1	That’s it.
22:13:18	DEALER 1	Ok.
22:13:20	DEALER 2	That’s everything?
22:13:21	ELF 1	From my end.
22:13:24	DEALER 2	Where are we on the next shipment?
22:13:26	ELF 1	We are... We are good for next month.
22:13:35	ELF 2	Where’s ours? Same setup?
22:13:37	DEALER 1	Goods are in a container. -ah- Shipping to the usual.
22:13:41	ELF 2	What do we have this time?
22:13:42	DEALER 1	-ah- Doll parts, balls, toy soldiers, springs... -ah- buttons, and -ah- truck wheels.
22:13:49	ELF 1	Yeah. Ok. We got train sets?
22:13:52	DEALER 1	Train sets. Yes. Yes.
22:13:55		[end tape 226]

October 26, 2011

21:34:53	DEALER 1	Will this stuff stay fresh?
21:34:54	ELF 1	Our mistletoe is good.
21:34:56	DEALER 1	I don’t want it all dried out. No berries.
21:34:58	ELF 1	No, no. It’s good.
21:34:59	DEALER 1	It doesn’t work when it’s-
21:35:00	ELF 1	Yeah. No. We’re good. Ok?
21:35:03	DEALER 2	You got your supplies?
21:35:05	ELF 1	Yes.
21:35:07	ELF 2	You need to ship faster.
21:35:08	DEALER 1	It’s not easy to deliver to the -ah- North pole[?].
21:35:11	ELF 1	I know. I know. But we have a deadline.
21:35:13	DEALER 1	Ok. What do you need?
21:35:16	ELF 2	We need... -ah- action figure arms, teddy bear stuffing...
21:35:20	ELF 1	Drum sticks
21:35:20	ELF 2	Drum sticks, and sports gear.
21:35:23	DEALER 2	That’s a lot.
21:35:24	ELF 1	We’ve got a big crop ready to go. Ready to harvest.
21:35:27		[end tape 227]

November 17, 2011

11:17:11	DEALER 1	We’ve got a problem.
11:17:13	ELF 1	Yeah?
11:17:13	DEALER 1	Those action figure arms, those are... The number is raising eyebrows.
11:17:18	ELF 1	What do you need?
11:17:19	DEALER 1	It’s more difficult. We’re going to need more eggnog. -ah- For this order.
11:17:24	ELF 2	We had a deal.
11:17:27	DEALER 1	Yes, but, -ah- to send that amount, without -ah- raising red flags.
11:17:33	ELF 2	Do you think anyone’s on to us?
11:17:37	DEALER 2	No. No. We’ve taken all your precautions. Still...
11:17:41	ELF 1	Good. We’re good. We still have the last delivery for you. Top quality for both.
11:17:46	ELF 2	You get us the rest of the supplies. We see you next year... It’s good.
11:17:49	DEALER 1	I don’t like it. I -ah- don’t see...
11:17:52	ELF 1	Or we find someone else.
11:17:56	DEALER 2	No. It’s ok. We can send them -ah- with -ah- with the last shipment.
11:18:02		[end tape 229]

From: Robin Hood, 146945 Special Black Bulbs To: Santa Claus Date: December 4, 2011 Subject: Christmas Sweaters

MOST SECRET

The following is based on the truth, but it’s a falsified truth, so doesn’t that make it a lie?  The answer, of course, is true and of course that is the truth, unless it’s a lie.  It is a brief narrative of the adventures of three young lads, namely Ooryl, El Guapo, and Superon.

El Guapo came from a family which was cleft in twain and betwixt the twain, there was no rest and thus therefore, there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.  That was how it all began.  El Guapo was a manly man, although his demeanor contradicted this graphically.  He was harsh and belittling and considered no one his equal.

Ooryl was a lad from a land far away.  He was an ex-Russian sniper who enjoyed the company of scantily clad women.  He had a dog, his dog’s name was Monty, and he loved Monty.  His childhood was a sordid tragic tale, full of lost hopes and love.  He was raised on a collective farm in Northern Ireland until he shot both of his parents.  He was a nice fellow, in a degenerate sort of way.

Superon was a brave fellow.  Although he lacked a super-hero suit and moral integrity, he was a fine strapping buck.  He had been abandoned by the world and thus found comfort in the companionship of his two comrades.  He was an avid meat fan, eating only the reddest, fleshiest, bloodiest, and succulent meat.  He could strip a cow with but his teeth in under three minutes. 

These three lads met on one hot day to conquer the vicious mountain, the rock of the beast, commonly known as the lion rock.  This is the strange yet morbid tale of that experience here now begins the story.

Log Entry Number One

Scaling the horrific mountains, we soon discovered that we had been heading the wrong way.  Our informant had let us astray, so we flayed each layer of his skin and dipped it in salt water.  We then fed him to the rabid dogs.  Alack, our manly nature would not allow us to accept defeat, we laughed in the face of danger and spat in the face of adversity.  We pressed on.

Log Entry Number Two

Wild insects are closing in.  Not sure how long our lives will last.  The ubiquitous hum of the insects is ever growing in our ears.  They are closing in.  Water is becoming scarce,  we have but five bottles left.  Sentiments that the insects are ravenous are becoming more real.  Ooryl is caught eating some of his own flesh.  El Guapo fends off the dog monster, controlled (we believe) by the telepathic insects.  The noise is driving us mad, the incessant hum is slowly making us turn on one another and our once close comradeship has been frayed to the breaking.  Superon required restraining as he tried to leap into the cesspool. 

MOST SECRET

 The Cryptids Department wrangles all the unusual creatures that always seem to pop up around Christmastime. If something escapes from them, it will usually show up on a TV special.

Here are copies from the Cryptid Department’s field manual.

SNOWMAN Homo glacialis Height: 2’ - 5’6” Weight: 30lb - 350lb Description: This creature is composed of snow or ice. It is usually seen to have three round body-segments decreasing in size towards the head. Size of the snowman usually varies directly in correlation to the size of the builder. Snowmen are often seen with coal, carrots, hats, pipes, and scarves. The arms of the snowman do not seem to be in proportion to the rest of the body, much like those of the dinosaur, Tyrannosaurus Rex, and scientists speculate as to their usefulness. Habitat and Behaviour: Rarely seen in the wild, snowmen are primarily domestic beasts seen close to human habitation during times of cold weather. While most snowmen are observed to be static, some have been recorded moving under their own power. Care and Feeding: Snowmen are not known to ingest nutrients, sustaining themselves by adding material externally. Heat is extremely dangerous to a snowman’s health and all varieties must be kept below 4°C at all times. Notes: A snowman, if brought to life, will most likely exhibit behavioural characteristics based on form. It is not advised, then, to build “snow goons” of any kind and it is best to fashion them with a smile. Threat Level: * *	SANTA’S REINDEER Rangifer aerius Height: 4’ - 5’ Weight: 200lb - 400lb Description: Mostly brown in color, this member of the deer family is known primarily for its powers of flight. It is the only known creature that flies without wings or other obvious means of providing lift. This species is also known for antlers on both male and female animals. Habitat and Behaviour: Santa’s reindeer are confined to the North Pole and immediate area except for one night a year when they migrate around the world. This migration seems to be the only time they exhibit their characteristic flying abilities. Care and Feeding: Lichen and grasses are recommended, though in quantities in excess of those needed by traditional reindeer in order to keep up energy required for flight. Santa’s reindeer are quite tame and can be kept free-range or in pens. Notes: This species is thought to be extinct in the wild. Only nine examples are known to exist in captivity. Of those, one displays a mutation resulting in a red nose. It is hypothesised that this specimen could be classified as sub-species of Rangifer aerius. If true, this could well be the rarest animal in the world. Threat Level: *
EGGNOG CHICKENS Pollus ovalactis Height: 1’6” Weight: 4lb Description: Eggnog chickens have been selectively bred and raised at the North Pole for generations. Similar in appearance to a normal domestic chicken, the eggnog chickens can be identified by their slightly rounder body morphology and red coloring.  The breeding of lower-fat producing versions, though attempted, has been aborted due to irritation. Habitat and Behaviour: Eggnog chickens do best when kept in coops, out of direct exposure to the weather. They may be able to fly but have never been observed attempting to do so. They are quite social and naturally inquisitive. However, they have been known to seasonally engage in highly aggressive swarming behaviour, likened to the “feeding frenzy” of the Amazonian piranha. Care and Feeding: They do not need much hands-on care, and provided a proper diet and supervision will continue to produce for up to eight and a half years. Notes: Can be milked up to two times daily, peaking annually around Christmas time at around 20oz per milking. Threat Level: *****	GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS Spiritum nativitatem Height: Varies Weight: Varies Description: There is no standard description of a Christmas ghost. They seemingly take shape according to context and the source of the sighting. Most witnesses speak of both male and female ghosts appearing during the same visitation, and a black-robed figure is also a consistent presence in stories.  Accounts suggest delineation into “past”, “present”, and “future” forms. Habitat and Behaviour: Christmas ghosts inhabit the Spirit World and only occasionally make appearances in ours. They are known to travel in packs and are attracted by those who do not believe in Christmas. Their motivation seems to be the sending of a message. Care and Feeding: N/A Notes: Cases of Christmas ghosts causing hallucinations has been reported. Time-travel ability is strongly suspected. If one is accosted by Christmas ghosts, a change of heart is required to dispel them. Threat Level: ***
YETI Homo arcticus Height: 8’ Weight: 400lb Description: Regarded as rare but not endangered, yetis are large, furry humanoids, most often white in color. While variously described as “ape-like” there is no research that confirms this portrayal and evidence suggests that a yeti is at least as clever as a man. Habitat and Behaviour: Yetis are presumed to be solitary creatures. They are known to patrol vast territories of Arctic or Arctic-like terrain. They do not appear to be hostile in any way and are likely to be more afraid of you than you are of them. Care and Feeding: It is not advised to attempt to feed, capture, or perform dentistry on a yeti. They should be left alone if encountered. Notes: Reports of tame yetis should be disregarded and the sources reported at once to Black Bulb command. Threat Level: ****	CHRISTMAS PTERODACTYL Pterodactylus noel Height: Unknown Weight: Unknown Description: The Christmas pterodactyl has been witnessed on only one occasion. It is described as a “super-scary” flying dinosaur, white, or perhaps tan, and black in color. A Christmas-wreath-like growth was noted on the animal’s neck. The attack of the Pterodactyl was captured on film and the tapes are being studied closely. Habitat and Behaviour: Little is known of the Christmas pterodactyl as only a single, or perhaps two examples have been recorded, with one being blown up before definitive study could be completed. Researchers are now searching for evidence of a surviving animal in its natural habitat. Care and Feeding: Christmas pterodactyls have been observed to be highly predatory although it is not know if they are purely carnivorous. None exist in captivity. Notes: Having been first seen only recently, the Christmas Pterodactyl remains the most mysterious of all Christmas cryptids. Threat Level: ****

 Black Bulb Security is primarily an internal force. They are responsible for policing the rest of the elves. They keep the North Pole secure from invasion by other holidays and safe from discovery by wandering Arctic explorers. They are also responsible for keeping Christmas in its proper place as first among holidays. “Christmas creep” is their most widely recognised accomplishment to date.

Reproduced here is the North Pole security blotter from Monday, December 5^th.

North Pole Security Blotter

5 December, 2011

Security has been busy this week with the start of December and the lead-up to Christmas: From a perimeter breach, to a possible yeti sighting, and a dispute in the Eggnog Barn.

• A perimeter breach was discovered late Friday in the South Sector. Agents of other holidays are suspected. Guards have been posted to sensitive areas of Santa’s Workshop.

• A possible grinch or yeti sighting was reported early Friday near the reindeer pens.  Security investigated and found inconclusive tracks. Elves on reindeer duty have been told to remain vigilant and to travel in groups.

• Security was called early Saturday to an incident in the eggnog chicken milking barn. An elf was found trying to dilute the chicken milk with one-third’s part cow milk to increase his quota. Other elves raised alarm and the suspect was detained. Charges of tampering are being considered.

• Early Saturday presents were reported missing from the Sorting Warehouse. There are no suspects at this time.

• Sammy, elf, age 30, has been arrested for public drunkenness and indecency.

• On Friday an elf was brought for questioning from the Toy Factory for listening to out-of-season music during December.

• On Tuesday Security was successful in the recovery of evidence connecting the Black Bulbs with outside sources. It is believed at this time that any remaining links to the North Pole have been obfuscated.

• Security was notified Saturday of a group of elves who are alleged to have made an unauthorized visit to the off-limits area around the Fortress of Solitude. Security has located one suspect so far.

• Calls of a disturbance near the Christmas Sweater Compound were made late Sunday night. Several elves had been reported missing. Security has made a complete investigation and discovered an after-hours Christmas party to be the cause of the disturbance and the missing elves were found to have made their way home early. A security spokeself assured Santa’s helpers that elf safety is a number one priority.

 Command is exactly what it sounds like. It is the most varied of all the Black Bulb divisions. All the other departments report to them. They are responsible for anything that happens “on the night”. They are also in charge of any special projects and new initiatives.

This is a first-hand account of Christmas Eve operations from Top of the World on North Pole Radio 2.

TOP OF THE WORLD
BLACK BULB COMMAND INTERVIEW

BROADCAST 8PM DECEMBER 8 2011

ON NORTH POLE RADIO 2 140 AM

Buddy: Good evening, my name is Buddy. I’m here tonight with Gene, He’s one of the Black Bulb Command elves who flies out every Christmas helping Santa. Now, Gene, the Black Bulbs are somewhat of an open secret here at the North Pole, after all, you’re here with us doing a radio show, but your team doesn’t officially exist. Can you speak to that at all?

Gene: You’re right. It’s hard to keep a secret around here, there’s just too much interaction between us and all the other elves. However, outside of Santa’s Workshop nobody knows about us. Our goal is to keep the external focus on Santa and the regular elves. Christmas seems more special if people believe it’s Santa doing all the work, not us.

B: You seem to imply there that Santa doesn’t do very much at Christmas, tell me about that.

Gene: Well, no. I don’t mean to say that. I don’t want to take away anything from what Santa does or what people think about him. What I mean is that Santa still delivers the presents. He’s still in charge. Christmas would not be Christmas without him, but all that stuff about “reindeer on the roof” or “Santa eats the cookies”, that’s us.

B: “Us” is the Black Bulbs, correct?

G: Yes. Now, let’s be clear, Santa delivers the presents, of course, but even with all his technology and tricks, he can’t pull off the theatrical portion of the evening for every house. There’s simply not enough time. Likewise, Santa can’t do all the work that needs to get done every year during the year to prepare for Christmas.

B: But on the night, Santa visits every house?

G: For sure. That will never change. But then we come along behind him. There are quite a few teams that go out. It makes it easier to get everything done if you spread the workload around a bit.

B: When you get to a house, what does your team do?

G: Santa’s usually been there before we get there. He’s stopped off, shot down the chimney or whatever, and then back up to the sleigh and activated the Time Distorter and off to the next house. Then we come by and go through the process. First we set down on the roof, and we make a whole bunch of noise, on purpose. Then we shimmy down into the house and locate the tree. There are usually four of us at a time who go in. We set everything up, and then back up and on to the next place.

B: Does each elf have a job to do?

G: Oh, yes. It’s very important, actually. Like I said, there are usually four of us inside the house, plus the guy upstairs. Now, his job is to keep an eye out for nosey neighbours, raccoons, that sort of thing. He also keeps us in touch with the Mission Command Center in case there are any updates or warnings.

B: Raccoons?

G: For sure. You don’t want to have to tussle with one of those, I tell you what.

B: I suppose not.

G: So the four elves in the house. The first elf, usually a rookie, will be in charge of eating the cookies and milk.

B: Why a rookie?

G: Because we go to a lot of houses. Nobody wants to eat that many cookies.

B: Do you have to eat them? Why don’t you just bag them up?

G: We have to, otherwise the crumb dispersal isn’t convincing.

B: Right. I hadn’t thought of that.

G: Let me tell you, some people leave out booze, too. It’s a pretty rough draw. Anyway, another elf will stand guard inside. If anyone wakes up, or if there’s any kids waiting around to see Santa, and we’re seen, this elf will hypnotise the target. We feed them a couple of stories. For the little ones, we usually just tell them they fell asleep waiting. Sometimes the older ones you have to tell them they saw Santa. It keeps them believing for another couple years. While the second elf is standing guard, the last two will be laying out the presents. When Santa comes by, he just leaves everything in a pile right by the chimney. Again, he doesn’t have a lot of time. It’s up to us to set them around the tree nicely.

B: Now, I’ve heard that this is something pretty important, who gets to set out what.

G: That’s right. The highest-ranked elf will be in charge of setting out the presents under the tree. The other elf, they’ll do the stockings.

B: Why is that?

G: It’s tradition, mostly. Plus usually the more senior one will have a better idea of how to make it look good. It’s also kind of a reward. We do a lot of work to make Christmas happen, and the guy that sets up the presents is the last link in the chain. It’s a big honour.

B: So is that it?

G: No, actually, the last thing we have to do is cross-reference the house with our list from Intelligence. I’m sure you know that everyone celebrates Christmas a little bit differently, so it’s up to us to make sure all the boxes are ticked for every house. Some people put oranges in the stockings, some people leave a piece of fabric that was “ripped off Santa’s suit”, for some people you have to lay out the presents a certain way, stuff like that. After we’ve taken care of that it’s back up and out and on to the next place.

B: I know there’s only one sleigh, and Santa drives that, so how do the elves get around on Christmas Eve?

G: I hate to say this, but you’re wrong, there. What most people don’t know is that, while there are only nine reindeer and one sleigh that Santa drives with all the presents, there are actually quite a few older model sleighs that we use. All the sleighs fly on their own, of course, but only the reindeer can get going fast enough for Santa to get around. So for the rest of us who don’t need to go as far, the older ones work just fine.

B: Besides the teams that go to the houses, and, of course, Santa’s deliveries, are there any other jobs to be done on Christmas Eve?

G:  There is one more job that needs to be done. Every year after everything is finalised and locked up, Robin, he’s the boss, will go up in the oldest, slowest sleigh, crank the tunes, and fly back and forth for a little while.

B: What is he doing?

G: It’s a newer thing, but now with the internet and TV there are loads of places that “track Santa” as he delivers his presents. It wouldn’t be fun to actually follow Santa, because he’s going so fast and blipping in and out of time, and also it could be dangerous if people knew exactly where Santa was. This way there’s something up in the air that the kids can follow and everything still gets done. I think Robin does it to unwind, as well. 

B: Now, last thing, tell me about the Christmas sweaters, what’s going on there?

G: Come on, Buddy, you know I can’t say anything about that. But they’re going to be great, once we get everything worked out.

B: Alright, I think that answers all my questions. Thanks for taking the time to let us know how you and the rest of the Black Bulb Command help Santa on Christmas Eve. I think everyone has learned something new.

G: No problem. It was great to be here. Thanks for having me on. Goodnight.

ALL BROADCASTS OR TRANSCRIPTS ARE COPYRIGHT TOP OF THE WORLD RADIO 2011 AND MAY NOT BE USED, REPEATED, OR DISTRIBUTED WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF NORTH POLE RADIO 2.

 The Miracles Department is where the magic comes from. They have representatives posted in all the other departments and will use any resources or means at their disposal to create a special Christmas for everyone. We’re not often sure how they do it, but they always get the job done.

Merry Christmas!

Tony couldn’t sleep and finally rolled out of bed. It was too hot, and his brain wouldn’t turn off. Nothing around him seemed familiar, the noise the floor made, the pattern of light coming through the window, the walk to the bathroom.

He padded over to a stack of boxes left from the move. They were the last ones not yet unpacked, full mostly of kitchen things, and he still couldn’t find what he was thinking about.

“They’ve got to be around here somewhere,” he said, frustrated by his lack of success.

Tomorrow was Christmas, and he was missing something important.

His sister, Lynne, sat in an airport lounge 2500 kilometres away looking out in the dark over the runway at a vicious snowstorm. 

“Flight 838 has been cancelled due to adverse weather. All passengers booked on Flight 838 please report to the check-in counters located in the International Departures Terminal.” said a voice on the P.A. system.

“At least we’re not delayed anymore,” Lynne grumbled. She gathered her bags and began the long walk from the gate.

There was to be more bad news when she got there.

“I’m sorry, the only other flight that will arrive on time is fully booked already,” said the ticket agent.

Lynne was upset now. “I had a booking on 838, but you cancelled it. If this one is able to go, I need to be on it,” she pushed.

“I’m sure you understand that we’d like to be able to help you, but everyone else from your flight is also trying to rebook at this point,” said the agent. “Oh. That’s weird. My computer just blipped. Must be the storm. The best I can do is put you on standby for the next one. You are...” she typed in a command, “Ok, you are the next one in line, anyway. If the weather clears, and if someone else doesn’t show up, we’ll call your name.”

“Fine. Whatever. Do that then,” Lynne replied. She’d promised her brother she’d be there for his first Christmas away, now it didn’t seem likely she’d be there on time.

Tony gave up his search some time later. He’d looked everywhere and nothing had turned up. He was angry with himself. After hanging on to them for years, he’d lost them now, right when he needed them. He checked his watch. “It’s not like anything else feels like Christmas around here,” he said, frustrated, “So why do the stores have to close?”

The phone rang, he looked around, trying to remember where he’d left it.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hey, Tony, it’s me,” said his sister on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“I’m still at the airport. They cancelled my flight, so I’m waiting to see if I can get on the next one. But the weather isn’t looking good either. That one will probably be cancelled soon, too.”

There was a loud noise on the phone.

“What was that?” asked Tony.

“Oh, I don’t know. Sounds like something from the next stall.”

“You’re calling me from the bathroom? Gross!”

“I’m not going to the bathroom. It’s the only place in the airport they aren’t blasting the Christmas music. But this call is costing me like eight bucks a minute, so I have to go. I’ll let you know what happens with the flights.”

“Ok, bye Sis, see you soon.”

“Bye.”

She put her phone back in her bag and glanced through the crack in the stall door towards the sinks. She didn’t see anyone else. The weird noise had made her rather nervous. It had sounded like someone got hit and then a sort of scuffle-y dragging sound. She kept an eye out behind her as she got some sanitizer on her hands and left the room.

She was waiting in the lounge when the ticket agent approached her.

“We’ve just had a cancellation called in, and we can get you on the next flight. Let’s go get you checked in,” said the agent.

“Is the weather getting any better?” asked Lynne.

“Not yet. It’s supposed to get even uglier, too. But there’s still time before they have to make the final decision, so it’s best if everyone’s all ready to go,” said the agent.

Tony had the rest of his project out by now. He went over it thoroughly, changing the batteries, oiling the wheels. He’d wanted it done to surprise his sister, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. He glanced at the clock. It was late. Really late. He took one last, long look at his living room, with the tiny plastic tree, and the unfinished gift. Nothing was going to get solved tonight. He went to the bedroom to try to get some sleep. Hopefully Lynne arrived in the morning. Her flight, if it went, got in early.

Just before he fell asleep he thought he heard something strange from the other room. What was that? Probably just the plumbing, he thought as he drifted off.

Christmas Eve at the airport lacked a certain magic, thought Lynne as she tried to nap in the most uncomfortable chair ever made. She decided she’d been waiting long enough.

“Is the flight going, or not?” she asked the man at the gate, “Because I’ve been here all day. I’d really just like to go home now if we’re not getting out of here.”

“We make the official call in five minutes, but really, if you want my advice, the decision is easy, look outside. You can see if the weather is getting any better,” he told her.

Lynne looked.

“Actually, it does seem better,” she said, squinting into the runway lights.

Indeed, the flurries seemed to be calming.

The man turned to look out the window. “I think you’re right,” he said, shocked, “But it’s supposed to be getting worse!”

 A phone rang at the counter. He picked it up. Lynne tried to listen to the person on the other end but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Ok.” She heard the man say. He put the phone down.

“So?” she asked him.

“They said we’re good to go. Seems the storm suddenly picked up speed and is moving away from the airport. All flights heading south are cleared as soon as they get the aircraft de-iced. Weather guys said it’s pretty unusual.”

“But we’re going?”

“We’ll begin boarding in twenty minutes.”

Tony woke up to his phone beeping at him. He checked the message.

“It’s me. The flight is going, we’re supposed to get in about seven.”

He looked at his watch. It was 7:15 now. He ran out the door.

“How’s it going?” he asked her on the way to the car.

“Really?” she looked at him, yesterday’s camp at the airport written all over her.

“Right.” He said. He gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she said. “I hope I don’t have to deal with any snow around here.”

Tony laughed. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

They got back to Tony’s house and he grabbed her bags to bring them inside.

“Just wait a minute, I have to make a call,” she said.

Tony went inside. He stopped dead in his tracks. Leaning against the wall in the middle of the living room was what he had been searching for all night. He blinked. He quickly looked back at his sister, who was still on the phone. Then he picked up the package on the ground.

It was a bag of plastic dinosaurs, right out in the open. How did that get there?

Lynne entered the room. Tony hid the toys behind his back.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” she said. “I like the tree. Now, when do we open presents?” she smiled.

“You don’t change, do you?” he asked with a grin.

“Nope.”

“Well, then, I’ve got something for you,” he said, and went to the back room. He brought out an oddly shaped package that seemed to have been wrapped by a seven-year old. “Be careful when you open it,” he told her.

She looked at it long and hard, trying to work out what was underneath.

“Go on!”

She started to take the paper off slowly, and then she realized what it was. She hugged him.

“I can’t believe you saved this!” she told him.

“How could I not, it was awesome!” he replied.

The wrapping paper revealed a cardboard box on a skateboard. Once free of the wrapping, two mismatched wings unfolded. The sides were decorated with wobbly-drawn arrows and two flashlights were taped to the back.

“It’s not complete without these,” he told her, showing her the plastic bag. “I almost thought I’d lost them.”

“It’s perfect!” she told him. “But, I might have something you’ll like, too.”

There was a knock at the door. Tony looked at her, puzzled. She nodded at the door. He opened it. On the porch was a small black and tan dog with a huge bow around its neck.

“Merry Christmas,” She told him with a hug.

“It might be the best ever, now,” he replied.

They spent the rest of the day playing with the new puppy and the old toys from their childhood. They didn’t notice the snowflakes starting to fall outside, or the single Christmas light bulb that had fallen on the floor and rolled into the corner.

The end.

Arrow and Dino Mix, The Christmas Story - 2010

               “The arrow and dino mix is just right.” said the 7-year-old boy to his older sister. “There are meat-eaters, like Tyrannosaurus Rex, and this guy, Deinonychus, on one side, and there are plant-eaters, like Ankylosaurus and Styracosaurus, on the other side. Then I drew some arrows on the front!”

                “And you expect to go to the North Pole in that?” asked his sister. She laughed at her brother, who had told her earlier in the afternoon that he was going to build a sleigh by himself and go to ask Santa for a puppy. So far as she could see, he’d taped several plastic dinosaurs to a box. Some weren’t even facing forward.

                “Plus it’s got lots of crust!” continued the boy. The girl looked inside the box. Sure enough there was a small pile of bread off the edge of her brother’s lunch sandwich. She couldn’t figure it out. “What’s the crust for?” she asked. “You know, to go faster!” he replied. She understood now. “Oh. You mean ‘thrust’,” she corrected.

                “Let me show you this other thing!” he said, grabbing her sleeve. His sister was getting annoyed. “No. Let go of me! Stop pestering me! I have stuff to do.” she said. “But let me show you the landing gear!” he tugged a little harder, stretching her sweater.

                She’d had enough. “Now you wrecked my shirt! You’re not going to go anywhere in that. It’s a box! You’re so stupid! And it’s not ‘arrow and dino mix’ it’s ‘aerodynamics.’ You don’t even know what that means! And you’re not going to get a puppy, either, I know what mom got you.”  She stomped off while her brother sat back. He looked at his box.

                He went back to work while his sister watched from the other room. He glued some cardboard wings onto the side and the put some pillows in to sit on. Every so often he would go to his room and come back with something else to add. It was getting very elaborate. After awhile she came back.

                “Why is making this dumb sleigh so important to you?” she asked him. “Because I need to ask Santa for a puppy!” he said. “But I told you, I know what you’re getting. You’re not getting a puppy,” she told him. “I know,” he said, “I already found my present in the closet. But I don’t have enough allowance to buy you a puppy so I have to ask Santa.”

                The girl was surprised. “You mean the puppy is for me?” “Yeah.” said the boy. “I wanted to get you something really nice, but I only have eight dollars.” She hugged him. “You don’t have to get me a puppy. Any anyway, I don’t know if mom would like that. But I can totally help you finish your sleigh!”

                They spent the rest of the afternoon building one sweet sleigh. It had flashlights for engines, and the wings weren’t quite the same size, but once they put it on the skateboards it moved pretty good.

                The end.

The Chameleon Jungle

Clue Restacks hadn’t seen Mr. Mouse since the crash.

He’d set up camp somewhere in her backpack and refused to come out.

He blamed her, she supposed, for their situation.

It had started out just fine. After the Rio job had sorted itself out in a hurry, Clue had heard about the legend of the Chameleon Jungle.

“The Jungle will become what you want,” she muttered to herself grimly, remembering.

Of course, she had rushed to investigate.

Then the crash. Then the decision. Now here she was. Alone, and with her best friend and fuzzy partner mad at her.

And she was pretty sure she was being hunted by something.

She used her powers to light the trail behind her. The darkness seemed to overwhelm her attempts to see anything beyond a few feet. She scanned slowly for her suspected pursuers.

It didn’t help that since the crash her ability to manipulate air, water, electricity, and light seemed to be steadily weakening.

Seeing nothing, she relaxed and the light went out. Even using it for a few seconds had exhausted her.

She reached back into her pack for a flashlight and received a sharp bite on the finger.

“Keep that up and I’m going to make sure you get rabies shots when we get back!” she told the belligerent rodent. “If we get back,” she didn’t say.

The steep canyon walls they had been hiking towards were no closer now than they had been six days ago. Mr. Mouse knew it, and he didn’t like it.

With a choice between the flashlight and a chewed up hand or darkness and being able to grip things between her thumb and forefinger, Clue chose the latter.

Later, as Clue set up camp for the night she thought about the choice she’d made to leave the crash site. It hadn’t been like her at all, but she’d been so sure of it. Why was she so eager to find the source of this legend that allegedly gave you anything you wanted that she would do something like that? It can’t have been greed. After all, she’d turned down a massive treasure in Rome without a second thought. She wasn’t greedy. Had it been something else, then?

She wasn’t angry with Mr. Mouse. She’d pull the same stunt if it had gone the other way.

Sleep did not come easily.

The noises started at sun up. A sort of scratching, shuffling sound. A shadow moved past the tent. Clue got out and looked towards the shadow.

There was nothing there.

She heard the shuffling again from somewhere down the trail she had come from the night before.

“I’ve got to get moving again,” she said aloud. Mostly just to hear the sound of a human voice.

She gathered her gear and began once again to walk towards the cliffs ahead, still several days away at her current pace.

By mid-morning she found a stream and was picking her way up it. Jumping from rock to rock, she was making good time. She allowed herself to pause for a break.

Mr. Mouse felt the pack drop and poked his head out to monitor the situation. He ignored Clue as he crawled out and had a drink.

Suddenly he raised his head and ran into the underbrush.

“Wait!” called Clue, scrambling to follow. She picked up her bag on the run and followed in the direction Mr. Mouse had disappeared.

Thorns and vines clutched at her and in seconds she was deep enough that the light was filtered out by the canopy. She knew she had no hope of actually finding him if he was trying to lose her, so she took a gamble and continued in a straight line.

Right into a wall.

“What is this?” she gasped in surprise.

Whatever it was stretched out on either side of her. She couldn’t see exactly how far it went. It had been completely overgrown by the jungle.

“Mr. Mouse!” she called. She tried to spot any flash of white amongst the green. She wasn’t even sure he had come this way, but she didn’t feel right investigating the mysterious metal ruin without him.

Something dropped on her shoulder. Mr. Mouse looked her in the eye, then stalked back under the flap of her pack.

Clue was happy he was back, but whatever was going on, he was still choked at her. Maybe he was sick, too. His eyes didn’t seem quite as beady as usual.

He’d come from above, though. Clue looked up. She couldn’t see the top of the wall but there looked like a way to climb the branches and roots to get a better view.

Sweating from the effort, she hauled herself up. It was a tough climb and usually she’d have help from Mr. Mouse scurrying ahead pointing out hand-holds.

At last she found an edge and rolled up on to a flat bit. She caught her breath for a minute before she sat up and took stock of the situation. Now that she was a good ways off the forest floor she could see the outlines of the structure better.

On one side of her the wall continued on but rose no higher than the part she was standing on. On the other it terraced up several stories above her.

She looked harder. She began to see patterns in the shapes. A fallen tree that was too straight. A line of shadows that was a little too regular.

“Mr. Mouse, how did you find this?” she whispered at her backpack.

Clue was standing on the deck of a ship.

A ship in the middle of the jungle, covered in trees and foliage.

She looked at her map. Tracing her path from the crash site, Clue determined that she was at the exact center of the island. “Just a little bit creepy,” she said to no one in particular.

Now she could make out the lines of the ship. It was a freighter, an old one, judging from the style. She started half-walking, half-climbing over the fallen cranes towards the bridge, located in the middle of the ship.

Once she gained entrance there was a stark difference in the mystery vessel’s appearance. The jungle had not penetrated inside, despite open or missing windows and doors. Everything on the bridge was spotless and tidy. Clue shivered. This was not normal.

She felt Mr. Mouse moving inside her bag. She also heard him chewing at something. “Quiet!” she hissed at him. “This is freaky enough without you making horror-movie noises.”

Clue went deeper into the ship. There was no power, so the only illumination filtered through the portholes or open hatches. Clue tried to amplify the remaining light but couldn’t manage even a flicker.

“I’m just going to have to do this like I used to,” she said, frustrated that her powers should fail her now.

The crew’s quarters and mess were all empty. No signs of struggle or distress. Unlike ghost ships Clue had heard about, there were no signs anyone had left in a hurry. Or had even left at all. Nothing was out of place, nothing seemed to be missing. All the bunks were made and tools stowed.  

Mr. Mouse started chewing again.

“Seriously! You’re not helping!” Clue told him.

Clue had been looking for papers or any signs of where the ship had come from, but even after going through the contents of the bridge and several cabins she had found nothing. In fact, she hadn’t found anything with writing on it at all.

She figured there might be something in the cargo holds to give her some insight.

They were empty, too, a vast black space looming in front of her. She strained to see the far bulkhead in the gloom. She did note, however, large piles of chain coiled neatly along the sides of the hull. 

With nothing else to discover, Clue realized she was still trapped on a deserted island and that she was still limited by the supplies in her pack. Having found nothing of value on the ship, she had to press on. Maybe once she got home she could do some more to solve this particular mystery. The ship wasn’t going anywhere.

She emerged from the ship into darkness. She recognized the night-time sounds of the jungle. She’d been in the ship for hours, not noticing the passage of time.

“What do you say, Mr. Mouse, should we set up camp for the evening?”

With no reply, Clue prepared for another night. She set up her tent on the highest part of the ship she could reach. She hoped to avoid whatever critters would be sneaking around in the morning.

Clue jolted awake. Something was out there. Something big. She could feel the deck of the ship ringing beneath her as the thing moved.

She scrambled out of the tent. The night was pitch dark. Mr. Mouse had a similar idea and was by her feet. She could feel his whiskers trembling against her ankle.

It came out of nowhere. Clue could just make out a flash of huge claws as they barely missed her.

She ducked behind a railing, briefly, before it was torn away in a shower of sparks.

In the flash of light Clue could see the beast. Large. Gray. Shaped like a man but not quite. She thought back to the chains in the cargo hold.

She was distracted, unprepared for the next swipe of the talons. She rolled away at the last second. She felt a sharp burn on her leg as the claws found her.

She fought the pain. Mr. Mouse had been separated from her. She looked frantically for him.

She saw the monster turn towards something on the deck. It was Mr. Mouse, running towards her. The beast had seen him first and brought its arm down to smash the mouse.

But it was stopped mid-swing. Stayed by a powerful wind. Clue fought back, her powers suddenly working again. The wind pushed back at the creature. It strained to bring its fist down on Mr. Mouse.

Clue blasted it with lightning. It screamed. The sound was terrifying. Not natural.

Clue hit it again. The electric light illuminated the entire horror.

She saw its hairless head and oversized oval black eyes. An enormous pale body, rippling with muscle. Huge mouth and fangs. The thing was at least five times Clue’s size.

“So much for little gray men,” Clue told Mr. Mouse, who had resumed his place on her shoulder.

She gathered her strength for the final blow. Suddenly Mr. Mouse turned on her. He went for her eyes, clawing at them, biting at her face.

Clue’s powers stopped abruptly as she tried to fight off her crazed friend.

She swatted at him and rolled face down. She could hear the monster growling behind her. “Get off of me! What’s going on?” she yelled. He kept up his frenzied attack.

Then the monster moved in for the kill, taking advantage of Mr. Mouse’s attack.

Just as quickly as he’d turned on her, Mr. Mouse stopped and leapt on top of Clue. He bared his most ferocious squeak at the monster. He swatted at it with his tiny paws.

Clue spun around, hoping to at least have a chance against the monster before it finished her off, but it was gone. It did not seem to want to challenge something so small and yet so determined.

Clue scratched Mr. Mouse on the head. “Glad to have you back,” she told him.

He looked up at her, and for a moment Clue thought she saw the dullness in eyes she’d noticed before. Then he jumped down and ran into the night.

“No! Wait!” she called. Then she collapsed, exhausted from the fight. She lay on the cold deck trying to catch her breath. She had to go after Mr. Mouse, despite the bizarre attack. He might be mad at her but her oldest friend had defended her before something had taken him over.

Clue pulled herself up and went back to the tent. She gathered up the most critical supplies and stuffed them into her pack before leaving the rest and starting into the obsidian jungle. She had a feeling she wouldn’t need to survive for very long, one way or another.

She didn’t make it far, stumbling away from the ship in the inky black. She heard that ... thing ... thrashing through the forest. She was about to make a blind break for it when something else grabbed her and pulled her down.

She was too surprised to make a noise as she fell through the earth into a pit.

Her eyes adjusted to the faint light. They focused on a kindly face.

“I see you’ve met Bitey,” said the face.

“Bitey?” asked Clue.

“You know, big guy. Grayish. Teeth. Claws.”

“Right.” Clue hunched over and relaxed slightly. “What was that? And, uh, who are you?”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” said the man. He paused, noise from above cutting him off. It sounded like the monster, Bitey, was stomping around directly above them. “But I suppose we’ve got some time until he wanders off.

“My name is Sean Marlow. I came to this island on that hulk out there,” he nodded in the direction of the derelict ship.

“And Bitey?” interrupted Clue.

“I’m getting there, girlie. Settle down,” he laughed.

Clue noticed for the first time he was much older than she’d thought. The dim light in the tunnel was playing tricks on her.

“In 1947 there was an incident near a little town called Roswell, New Mexico. There was a craft. The army recovered it,” continued the old man.

“Area 51,” said Clue.

“I don’t know what that is,” he said. “It must have come after. Anyway, the craft had a pilot. Ugly, vicious thing, but smart, too. They couldn’t control it so they chained it up and set it to sea. I was on the crew.”

“So Bitey was the pilot? The alien pilot?” Clue pressed.

“Well, you see, there were... complications. Initially the plan was to hold it long enough for them to arrange a facility to contain it, but they didn’t figure on it changing. It would go into hibernation and come out meaner and stronger. Finished off a good portion of us the first time. It was decided that it would never be safe to keep it on land and we were ordered to stay with it and never come close to port or shipping lanes.”

“So...” Clue began to understand.

“This island was the first land I’d seen in a long, long time.”

They were both quiet for awhile.

“But you’ve been on this island for a long time, too,” Clue said. She motioned at the elaborate tunnels they were in. “And so has that ship up there. Why are you still here?”

Marlow was silent. He pursed his lips, and shifted uncomfortably.

“Get to the South coast, if you can, and soon. As soon as possible,” he warned.

“I can’t,” she said. “I need to find two things.”

“So you already know why I’m still here,” said Marlow.

“The Chameleon Jungle,” said Clue.

“Will become what you want,” he finished.

Clue leaned forward. “So you know it?” she said.

“It seems even though we had a valuable specimen on board, someone had forgotten about us. Despite trying to avoid civilization, every so often we’d meet other ships. The Captain would always make sure no chance to gather intelligence went to waste.

“Many years ago we ran across a ship, drifting, only a few crew still left aboard. They spoke of the Chameleon Jungle. An island they’d stopped at. An island their tradition had warned them never to visit. In a storm they’d sought shelter there. That night colored lights from the legends came down to the jungle from the sky, and they realized the stories were true.

“Our captain was very interested in this particular information. After all, we had evidence of their legend down in the hold.

“The unfortunate crew of the other ship also told of the second half of the legend. Despite dire warnings to stay away, they still believed that the island granted riches. New knowledge, fantastic things given to those who survived their encounters.”

“You say ‘unfortunate,’” said Clue.

“It had been whispered that the true purpose of our voyage was a much to rid the world of Bitey as it was to rid the world of our captain. He figured out the connection between their legend and ours. He became consumed with an obsession to find this island. And he didn’t want to share it. He fed those men to the reason behind the lights and sailed for here at once.

“No good can come from this jungle, nothing worth staying for,” he concluded.

“Then I need to find my friend and go,” declared Clue.

“Your friend?” asked Marlow. “I haven’t seen anyone with you.”

“My friend is a mouse,” said Clue.

The light in the tunnel brightened as she said it. Marlow noticed in horror.

“You have powers,” he whispered. “Like him.”

“Who?”

Sean Marlow stood and backed away from Clue.

“Captain Jackson Fortune, the madman we sailed under.”

Clue could see the terror in his eyes. Then she watched an abrupt change. They went blank, as if the person behind them ceased to exist. It was the most frightening thing she had ever seen.

“Hello Clue Restacks,” said the empty shell of Sean Marlow. “Welcome to my island.”

“Jackson Fortune,” Clue responded with contempt.

“You’ve been paying attention to good Sean’s stories,” he said. “He always was the most useful of the crew. They were all criminals, you know. Why else would you imagine they were assigned to a voyage with no end? Don’t feel too bad for him, he serves his purpose.”

“And the purpose is?” demanded Clue.

“To be my vessel. To introduce you to me,” replied the grotesque marionette.

“I have no intention of meeting you. I’m getting off this island and you can stay here by yourself doing whatever it is you do, alone.”

“But you do want to see your little friend again. You know, little white thing with whiskers?”

The air around Clue started to sizzle and pop as her anger rose. “What have you done to Mr. Mouse?” she hissed.

“He’s mine, for now. I thought maybe we could work together, me and you. I have a project I’d like to complete. Join me. You can meet me at my camp at the North Beach.”

“Then I’ll come for you, and I’ll find him,” said Clue.

“Oh, don’t worry about finding him, he’s right here!”

Mr. Mouse scurried out from the shadows. Clue rushed for him.

“Mr. Mouse!” she shouted with relief. She reached for him.

The mouse ignored her and climbed to Marlow’s shoulder. The husk looked at him and then to Clue.

“You will work for me,” demanded Fortune to Clue.

“I won’t. You’ve got nothing to offer me.”

The old man’s body shrugged. It reached for the mouse on its shoulder. Mr. Mouse sat still, his small eyes fixed on Clue. She saw the same deadness in them as Marlow’s.

She couldn’t move even as the hand enclosed her little friend and contracted with a sickening crunch.

It opened and Clue saw her partner. Dead.

“I will kill you. I promise I’ll kill you a hundred ways.”

Sean Marlow shook his head and looked up at Clue with clear eyes. “Kill me?” he asked, puzzled.

Clue leapt for him, her arms blazing with electric fire, but before she crossed the space between them tendrils and roots from the tunnel walls sprung out and enveloped the old man. They tightened and retreated before Clue could get to him, leaving another corpse beside the mouse.

She knelt beside her friend, she patted his small head. She knew there was nothing she could do for him now but she could do something for herself.

“I’m not leaving you here,” she told him quietly. Tenderly, she wrapped the small body and placed it gently in her pack.

She stood and looked for a way out, using her powers to light the tunnel, brighter than daylight.

“Jackson Fortune, you are going to die,” she promised.

She found her way out of the tunnel system, exiting from behind a waterfall. She could see the coast down the hill, still a good ways off. She assumed the canyon with the landlocked ship was behind her. She headed north.

The sky above her darkened as she amped herself up. Until now she never actually tried to see how powerful she really was. Now she didn’t care about hurting herself or anyone in her path. She would use everything she had on her mission to avenge Mr. Mouse.

She thought of the vines that killed Marlow.

All the vegetation on either side of her disappeared in a blue flash. The wind picked up the debris and flung it into the forest.

Clue began moving in a straight line for the coast, wind carrying her faster than she could run, jungle withering away from her as she pushed ahead.

At the edge of a cliff she used a tornado-like gust to lower herself over the edge, hardly breaking stride.

She’d gone most of the way to the coast before the counter-attack started.

Animals started pouncing on her from out of the jungle, ignoring the lighting strikes still burning down the trees.

Clue had no interest in killing them and waved her hand in their direction. Great sheets of water engulfed them, drawn from the river now miles away. Anything with paws was swept back.

Plants, too, rose out of the ground. Thorn bushes and creepers trying to catch her up and drag her down.

She parted the clouds and intensified the sunlight. Everything around her began smoking, then burst into flames.

The wind and heat and water scoured the dirt around her. She blasted everything until she was standing on bare rocks.

Nothing Fortune could control was able to get close to her.

Nothing except for Bitey, the last line of defence. It stood between her and the sea.

Where they stood had been a pristine beach. Now the waves broke on bare rocks and the ocean was foaming with wreckage from Clue’s tempest.

Her lighting cracked across the sky. The waves stopped, then flowed up and formed walls around her and the alien, trapping them together in a cage only one was going to leave.

Easily five times Clue’s size, it regarded her without blinking or moving. Then she saw a slight tilt of the head and Clue realized she didn’t sense anger, or hunger, or fear. She saw it felt pain.

“He’s controlling you, too, isn’t he,” she asked it.

It didn’t speak back to her, but again she sensed it did not want to be there.

“I’m going to kill him,” Clue told the giant being.

“Then perhaps you should start by facing the right direction,” came a malevolent voice from behind her.

Fortune’s voice.

She turned, the waters dropped away. She saw her nemesis for the first time.

He was suspended on a wooden tower, lording over the remains of the ruined beach, having grown trees up from even the bare rocks.

She started to burn them with the sun, but having disregarded the alien, it grabbed her from behind and held her, claws at her throat.

“Now, now, enough of this,” Fortune goaded. “Are you sure we can’t work together? I’ve been trying to coax you since your unexpected arrival on my island.”

Clue was silent, rage building inside her.

“You don’t think you made that decision on your own, did you? I thought I’d try to influence you first but you proved stronger than I anticipated. Your rodent was far easier to control.”

Wind bursts assaulted him from both sides. They would have crushed him except for the branches that shot up absorbing the energy as they tore to shreds.

Clue felt her power draining. She struggled to be herself.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t control you at all,” he wagged his finger at her.

“What do you need me for?” she snarled.

“I thought that with our powers combined we might be able to do something I’ve thought about since the first day I saw the beautiful creature behind you. Of course, at first he wasn’t much to look at after we’d pried him out of his wrecked craft. But I saw the potential even then. The ability to harness his kind and his technology to advance our civilization to great things, as the natives who once spoke of the Chameleon Jungle built their society.”

“The jungle will become what you want,” said Clue.

“No!” Fortune cut her off. “The jungle will give me what I want.”

“You want the world,” realized Clue. “You plan to capture a craft, a crew of monsters!”

“Then you agree? If only you could have been this reasonable before I wouldn’t have had to make an example of your rat,” said Fortune with smile.

Clue remembered Mr. Mouse’s stand on this ship, doing everything he could to protect her, standing boldly between her and danger. Something clicked in her mind and she realized the key to breaking Fortune’s hold.

“He wasn’t a rat. He was a mouse.”

She charged an electric field around herself, breaking the alien’s grip, then turned to full force on to Fortune. She hit him with absolutely everything she had. Hail stripped leaves and bark off the trees faster than Fortune could re-grow them. She brought two waves together that could have crushed a ship between them.

Fortune cocooned himself with the jungle, using layer upon layer to shelter from the blows. But he was weakening.

Clue focused the sun’s energy like a laser. It ripped into Fortune’s bunker. Within seconds he would be dead.

A sound rose above even the maelstrom Clue was creating. She looked up and her attack faltered for a split second.

The abandoned freighter from the jungle was sailing towards her at a blinding pace, surfing on the tops of the trees, the canopy breaking over the bow like water. She had time to notice the superstructure was remarkably free of growth before something threw her across the beach.

She turned back to see the ship smash into Bitey, where she had been standing not a moment ago.

Fortune, too, had made a move, leaving his soon-to-be-burnt-out timber shell for the bridge of the ship.

“So long, Restacks,” he called to her. He’d managed to cover her with jungle during the distraction, and she struggled to move. She did notice with grim satisfaction that she’d been able to hurt him. Most of his torso was covered in burns.

Then the ship was gone along with the killer of her best friend.

Even with her powers back it took a long time to free herself. She didn’t want to end up burnt like Fortune.

She went to the creature that saved her life, evidently a slave just as much as Mr. Mouse or Sean had been. It, too, had worked out how to break free – it cared about something else more than itself.

She found it at the edge of the water. It wasn’t breathing, but then, she didn’t know if it did to begin with. She pulled it up onto the last bit of sand on the beach, but having left most of her supplies back on the ship Fortune had now escaped on, she could do little else for it.

She built a fire as night fell, swearing to herself an oath of revenge against Jackson Fortune should she ever leave the island.

It was almost three AM when she woke.

The fire had gone out. She used her own light to illuminate the camp.

Bitey was gone.

Then another light snapped on, far brighter than hers, and from above.

She looked up.

“Wow.”

A craft, hovering above her, bright lights flashing along the edges.

“The legends...” she murmured.

Just as suddenly the lights went out. The craft disappeared and everything was quiet again.

Clue looked around and almost fell over.

She was in her living room. In her house. Thousands of miles away from the Island.

They’d taken her home.

She looked around, trying to discover some kind of trick, but everything was as she left it before she’d left for Rome almost two months before.

She saw her pack leaning against the couch and remembered Mr. Mouse. She rushed to it, starting to cry.

It moved.

She stopped in her tracks, not believing.

There was a scratching, then a tiny squeak.

She tore it open and looked down at a scruffy white and gray mouse, his bright eyes looking up at her.

“Mr. Mouse! They... You were...”

He squeaked at her again happily and rushed up her arm.

He had something in his teeth, Clue grabbed for it.

“Oh come on, we weren’t going to talk about that ever again!”

She snatched away a Polaroid of her in the ridiculously skimpy bikini from the Rio Job.

She picked him off her shoulder and held him in her hands. “It’s good to have you back.”

Mr. Mouse cocked his head and huffed at her.

“You remember, don’t you?” she asked him.

He flashed his teeth angrily.

“Yeah, he’s still out there. And this doesn’t change anything. We’ll find him.”

Clue sat down in her chair with a tumbler of whiskey and her best friend and watched the sky outside her window.  “To the Chameleon Jungle – for giving me what I wanted,” she toasted.

Mr. Mouse put his head down on her shoulder and went to sleep.

Clue smiled.

The End.

Clue Restacks and Mr. Mouse will return in “The Golden Masks”