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Some say I'm the Reverse
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Heh. Completed, a week late.
(runs before the Cecilia fans shoot me dead)
Quote:
Cecilia Alcott's eyes flew open to realize she was in an inelegant position.
The rear seat of her limousine was comfortable, yet the odd feeling of being crushed was what woke her up. Weakly waving her arms, she wondered why there was a marshmallow-coloured balloon in front of her eyes. A few seconds later, she realized it was the rear-seat airbag in her face. One hand reached for the door, and Cecilia awkwardly got out of the car.
Albeit uncomfortably. No, rolling out of the car was a more accurate description.
"What was THAT about?!" Cecilia finally gasped once she tumbled outside. She was the youngest CEO of the largest company in England, thus the wealthiest young woman in the country. Alcott was also one of England's top Representative Cadets, possessing the exoskeletal frame known as an Infinite Stratos. In both the business and martial sense, she was highly regarded and respected. There was a certain status given to those in her position.
So the lack of dignity in this escape concerned her greatly.
Standing up, she then regarded her dress (a proper English lady of means MUST be impeccably dressed regardless the situation) before looking at the mess of her limousine.
Her first day back in Japan, after a long flight from England. Her first day returning to her school Infinite Stratos Academy, and back to a person whom--(no, the editor said we will not bore you with details that you already know). Alcott was looking at the front of her car and only then did she become aware of what the fuss was about.
It was blue.
The front of her white limo was crushed into the blue--thing that stopped the car. In the front seat of her car, her chauffeur was knocked unconscious. The blue thing was seemingly undented, but Cecilia gawked at it for being oddly familiar.
A Police Box. Cecilia had never seen one in real life, but recognized it still. It was an extension, a hotline to the local police station that people called upon in times of trouble. Police boxes were made long before radios and mobile phones became widespread, they had been phased out decades before her parents had even met. Yet the image was unmistakeable: In fact it was the classic Mackenzie Trench design, first put to use in 1929. A large cabinet-like box big enough for one person to stand in, with the words 'POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX' writ in large white letters above opaque white windows. A lamplight up the top that flashed when in emergency, alerting nearby police officers. It was in the shade of blue that all British police boxes usually were (Except in Glasgow, where they were red because Glaswegians could not see the colour blue when stone dead drunk at 2am and often walked straight into a Police box, claiming police brutality when waking up right next to it the next morning).
A blank came into her mind when she wondered why and how she knew all of that random information, despite no Police Boxes in existence in the modern era. Much less being around for her to recognize. As if Cecilia knew the reason it was but it was erased from memory.
Then, immediately: "Why is there an English Police Box in Japan?!?"
Almost-immediately: "Why is there an English Police Box in front of my car?!?"
The Police Box doors opened, and out strode a man. He was much older than Cecilia, with a close-cropped haircut and black leather jacket and jeans. Possibly older than some of the teachers at IS Academy. He had a roguishly good look to his visage, as he looked left and right. Scanning for someone or something, before his eyes met Cecilia's.
"'Scuse me, miss. Have you seen a purple-haired woman with bunny ears loping about here?"
"Uhm, no." It was a very odd question coming from a man who exited a blue (definitely not red and not from Glasgow) Police Box right in the middle of the road where Cecilia's limo had crashed into. The still-confused Alcott replied, realizing he was speaking in English. No, specifically Northern English. Specifically Manchester. Mancunian, to be exact. Working-class English as some--Wait a minute. "Why do you have a Manchester accent?"
"Lots o'places have a north!"
"I said Manchester, not North!" Cecilia shot back, now knowing for sure he was not from Glasgow.
"Well there's more than one Manchester in the universe. In fact, there's this nice little planet named Barcelona. Fantastic place to visit."
Cecilia paused. On her face was the classic Alcott look of perturbed and uneasy exasperation: Meaning she was making small, confused little girl squeaky noises while standing perfectly still. Again, immediately: "Back to my first question, good sir! WHY is there a Police Box in the middle of Japan?"
"Lots o'places have Police Boxes, too." The man grimaced, looking around still. "And it's not exactly the middle of Japan, is it?" It's actually more to the southeast."
"Th-THAT'S NOT THE POINT!" Cecilia blurted, and then restrained herself with a polite and elegant cough. "You, dear sir. You have damaged the property of Cecilia Alcott, sole heir to the grand Alcott fortune of England---"
"Shush."
"Wha?" Alcott 'wha'd. (In a rare moment of awareness, Cecilia noticed the man was looking up at the sky and not paying her attention whatsoever) "---I BEG YOUR PARDON?!?"
"I said, SHUSH." The man had a concerned look on his face, still searching the sky. He took out an odd pen like device and pressed it. Odd lights and a noise came out, but nothing else happened. The intense look took Cecilia aback for a moment, but there was silence. No cars passed them by, not even the sounds of birds or the wind.
"Well," Alcott finally asked after a minute of silence. "Just WHAT are you shushing me and looking about for?"
"I'm looking for a giant flying carrot."
"A Giant. Flying. Carrot." Cecilia was about to remark (rather pointedly) about how ridiculous looking for a giant flying carrot (again, in the middle of Japan--exact terminology be damned) was. But stopped upon realized that a man who stepped out of a blue police box probably thought something like that was normal. But wait, Cecilia HAD seen a giant flying carrot before, belonging to..."Professor Tabane Shinonono?"
"Owt?" The man stopped and looked straight at her with---a smile? "Y'know her?"
"Well, I've seen a giant...flying...carrot before." Alcott's inner self was having difficulty saying that with any semblance of a straight face. "It was just this summer past."
"Well, that doesn't help me out one bit." The smile fell on the man's face. "I need to talk to her. Down here. Right now." There were slight but tangible signs of worry on the man's face as he spoke. "Long before she invents that amazing thing that she's not supposed to invent. Yet."
"Oh." Cecilia nodded; pretty sure she didn't understand what that was all about. "Long before she invents what, exactly?"
"Tabane Shinonono's experiments with digitizing physical structures, quantum entanglement and data compression are going to come to a head this year. She's going to invent something grand that will put planet earth on the intergalactic road map, and a lot of interstellar empires out there are not going to be happy about it and make that quite obviously known to us. Shinonono being Shinonono, oh no no no. She's going to just go all out and annoy the galactic community even further. I'm not going to stop her, mind you. I'm just here to make sure she doesn't ruffle the wrong kind of feathers and end up having the earth burned to a cinder by said angry interstellar empires, of which there are a-plenty." The man turned around, offering to shake her hand. "Oh by the way, I'm the Doctor."
"Doctor." Alcott couldn't understand half of what he just said, but didn't think he looked like a doctor of anything as she shook his hand reflexively. "Doctor?"
"Yes?" He responded with a smile.
"...are you mental?"
"No." The smile was frozen on his face as he blinked. "No, I am definitely not mental. I'm actually an alien--short answer: I'm a Time Lord. I travel back and forth through time and fix things."
"But if you're an alien..." Alcott was totally, absolutely, and utterly flabbergasted. This can't be. I must be imagining this! "Why do you have a Manchester accent!"
The man was about to retort, but did a double-take. In which he looked to one side, wore a puzzled look, and then looked back at Cecilia. "Oh. What was your name again?"
More annoyed girl squeaking noises gurgled out of Cecilia's throat. "Cecilia. Alcott. England's Representative Candidate and sole heir to the Alcott Family fortune."
"Cecilia Alcott." He clapped his hands together and laughed aloud. "Fantastic! We'll get along swimmingly, then!"
"Y-Y-You!!" Cecilia was strongly resisting the urge to just summon her IS right then and there, and blast the man in frustration. "You're a madman with a box!"
"I have a feeling I'll be hearing that again in a few more lifetimes." The man paused, then before Alcott could continue her rant he walked forth. "Now, given that IS Academy is somewhere in that direction, I would say that Shinonono would be at least within observation distance."
"W-W-Wait just one moment! See here, you!" Alcott, despite herself, started following the man, the car and the police box forgotten for the moment as unimportant set pieces are during a dramatic confrontation. "You do not just pop up in front of my car, cause serious damage to my property and simply walk off into the distance while a lady is speaking to you! The least you could do is apologize, understand your place and..." Cecilia was at a loss what to say next. "...fix my car!"
"There are more important things to worry about right now, Cecilia Alcott. Such as finding Tabane Shinonono and asking her quite nicely not to go headlong into the breach."
"No one can find Tabane Shinonono!" Alcott shrilly yelled at the Doctor. "People have tried! She comes and goes whenever and wherever she wants! Nobody knows how she does it."
"I do."
"If you could only---" Cecilia stopped again, catching up to her rant. "Wait, what?"
"The trouble with time is that it only moves forward for people not involved with it. Meaning you and youse can only see behind you in the past without being able to influence it. As well as not being able to move forward and being able to influence that. That 'thing' as you call it? That is not really a Police Box. It is a TARDIS. Short for Time and Relative Displacement In Space. It is an object that travels through the space-time continuum with little to no restriction. Only Time Lords have this technology." The Doctor stopped and looked Alcott in the eye. "Until now, that is. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Uhm." Cecilia nodded. Then she stopped nodding and started shaking her head. Then shrugging: "I don't know what you're talking about, just tell me!"
"Don't be daft. Shinonono is building a TARDIS!"
"Oh." Alcott nodded then stopped nodding just as quickly. "She's building a Police Box?"
Are you daft? was the expression on the Doctor's face.
"OH! I get it." Then her eyes widened. "She's building a time machine?!?"
"That's what I said the first time."
"How humorous!" Cecilia laughed her noblewoman's laugh (the annoying kind that goes o-ho-ho-ho-ho, more like a Japanese anime character's laugh than what a real noblewoman would be caught dead doing). She did this for 2.35 minutes before she stopped and looked at the Doctor's bemused expression. "You're serious."
"Dead serious."
"Oh." Coughing, straightening up and pretending the awkward moment of laughter never happened, Alcott then asked: "Well, then. What kind of interstellar empire would not be happy about Professor Shinonono inventing a Police Box?"
"Well. Like THEM, for starters." The Doctor pointed skyward.
Cecilia looked up to see a large number of flying saucers appear in the sky from out of nowhere.
"Oh. Them."
The large discs hovered over them, heading toward IS Academy at a leisurely pace. Smaller discs followed, flying in perfect formation over the road and the town surrounding.
"Flying carrot, that’s a good thing. Flying saucers?" The Doctor grumbled as the objects began to hover low. "Bad, bad news."
"Uhm, maybe they're only here for a spot of tea?" Alcott recoiled when the Doctor looked back at her askance. "Well, they could be friendly!"
"I know them. They are definitely NOT friendly."
Alcott had a sense of dread at this. A long, strained horn echoed in the skies, and a synthesized voice came out (Also with a notable English accent). The voice being broadcast was tinny and electronic. Electronic, menacing and...Hammy. So hammy that Cecilia thought she gained ten kilos just by listening to it.
"Earth! Hu-Mans! We! Are your Masters! The Da-leks! We de-mand! You! Sur-Ren-Der! The Hu-Man! Shi-No-No-No-No! Do so! And we-will-Exterminate! You! Peacefully! Fail-ure! To do-so! Means! We! Will! Exterminate you!"
"Give the professor to us and be exterminated, or don't give her to us and be exterminated. Some choice." There was a hateful glare and grown in the Doctor's voice as he looked at the flying discs. "Bloody Daleks."
"Are they always like this?" Alcott's mind boggled.
"---EXTERMINATE!!" A laser cannon shot down from one of the saucers and a small section of the town went up in green smoke.
"Yes." The Doctor replied. "Utter rubbish, that."
"True--why am I agreeing with you, again?"
"---EXTERMINATE!!" Another laser cannon fired, and a cow could be heard expiring.
"Never mind." Cecilia's eyes sharpened. "Did you have something planned?"
"I was hoping to meet with Professor Shinonono and work something out before it came to this. The Daleks are just early. Wish I could get in contact with UNIT, but I doubt they'd have any pull here in Japan." The Doctor shook his head. "I could use something...with a little bit o'range right now."
Cecilia looked up to the hovering discs. Then smirked. Mentally, she partially summoned her IS exoskeleton's right arm and sniper rifle-like particle cannon. "How much range?"
"In earth metric terms, I'd say at least 20 kilometres in a straight line. Maybe a 3 to 4 degree minute of angle. And it has to be a particle beam or laser weapon, in the 3 megawatt range minimum to punch through their shielding and actually cause damage..." He stopped to look at the rifle, and at Cecilia. And then at the rifle again. And he grinned along. "Fantastic!"
"---EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" More green bolts lit up the sky, and the smell of roast cat was in the air.
"Well? Start shooting lass!"
"Gladly." Cecilia brought the rifle to bear on the landing ships and the high-pitched screaming aliens dropping down from them. She was going to enjoy this.
<--------------->
Cecilia Alcott's eyes flew open to realize she was in an inelegant position.
Her head was resting in a cereal bowl, empty of food but inelegant nonetheless. Sitting upright in her chair, the outdoor garden of her ancestral home was quiet save for the morning haze. Gliding into view, wearing a long-skirted black maid uniform with strangely even large polka dots in design. The Alcott's maid Chelsea almost floated along with an egg-whisk in her left hand.
"M'lady? You called?" Chelsea replied in an oddly emotionless tone. "Have you any ailment?"
"It was a dream, that's all." Cecilia let out a breath, chiding herself. Childish television shows were not something she should be dreaming about this early in the morning, not at breakfast. The long black maid dress with its polka dots didn't look right in this light, but Alcott was too tired to ask any questions.
"How would you like your eggs this morning, m'lady?"
"Eggs?" Cecilia blinked. Other than the empty cereal bowl, there was nothing else on the table. "Maybe something different. Like a souffle, or stir-fried."
"Eggs. Stirred. Eggs. Stir." Chelsea quietly glided to the outdoor stove, which Cecilia had not realized was to her right all this time. The maid started making shrill whirring noises, which sounded louder than what one would expect to come out of a portable egg-whisk--What kind of motor is in that whisk?
Alcott winced twice. "Chelsea, please tone down that noise. That's rather mean of you."
"Mean." The maid's voice had an odd, sharp inflection to it.
"Chelsea, are you unwell?" Cecilia stood up. "Is it something you ate?"
"Ate. Eggs." Chelsea was still standing and unmoved, but the whirring sound grew unbearably louder. "Stir. Mean. Ate."
"Chelsea?" Cecilia had cold dread running down her spine, as her devoted friend and maid's voice took on a...deeper...tenor. More electronic. High-pitched. The long black maid dress with its polka dots didn't look right in this light.
"Eggs-Stir-Mean-Ate. EggsStirMeanAte. EggsStirMeanAte. EXTERMINATE."
Chelsea's head finally turned around, but it wasn't Chelsea's head any longer. It wasn't even remotely human as the glowing eyestalk and flashing lights targeted Cecilia with its egg-whisk like Beam Cannon.
"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"
<--------------->
"~~~~~~~~~~WAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!"
Sitting bolt upright in bed, white as a sheet and bleary-eyed Ichika Orimura gasped in terror as he realized it was all just a dream. A second later, he realized the small video player he had was still on. The weird OO-WEE-OO of the catchy theme music was on consistent repeat, adding to the creepiness of the dream. All on something that Cecilia asked him to watch and enjoy for some big anniversary show.
His eyebrow twitched.
A treasure of Science Fiction that will be remembered for centuries to come. It is a prized cultural artefact of England, known to everyone! Cecilia had told him when she lent Ichika these video discs. Ichika, of course had never heard of it. But he felt it wouldn't be so bad, to watch what people in England watched for entertainment.
Ichika picked up the cover case of the video disc, showing things in English he didn't understand. There was definitely that large weird blue box that looked like the 'Koban' Police Boxes in Japan, but were not (at least, Ichika didn't remember Koban being bigger on the inside than out). Also on the cover was a girl with blond hair like Cecilia's and a man holding a flashing pen light. Plus there were all of those giant pepper shakers. Scary looking giant screaming pepper shakers with eyestalks, flashing rabbit-ear lights, toilet plungers and egg whisks for arms surrounding---Ichika's eyebrow twitched again.
The People of England like some VERY weird things, don't they...
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2013-11-30, 11:35
). I can do the pun with a family name alone anyway.
Author
And thanks for the review, Miner.
"Focus entirely on me, you ordinary soldier."
