To the Time Machine! ( part 6 )

Meanwhile, back in time….


BUIES CREEK, just before the Dark Times


Life isn't easy when you're on the Brute Squad. And Lorma Doom was the entire Brute Squad. But as difficult as Life could be, Lorma was not in a hurry to investigate the alternative.

If Lorma fell, she'd break all the important bones in her body, and if that didn't kill her she'd be eaten by the two velociraptors below. But she couldn't crawl back to the catwalk, because a third, very injured, very pissed raptor waited for her there. It was this third raptor that was trying to shake her loose from the batten.

Lorma Doom hoisted her legs up and wrapped herself around the pipe batten. She clung to it desperately as it swung wildly and unmercifully.

But what would you expect from a velociraptor? They were wild and unmerciful. And currently she was at the mercy of three wild and unmerciful raptors.

One was perched atop the railing, was kicking the batten, trying to shake her loose. It hissed and shrieked its distaste as its claws pushed against the batten extensions.

She closed her eyes. Could you pray when you went back in time? Lorma didn't know. Did your prayers go to God in this time or to God in your origin time? Unfortunately, there was no time to ponder the possibilities. Lorma Doom shut her eyes and prayed for deliverance!

And got it.

"Down, girls! Down!" barked a voice far below her. She sneaked a peek. After her head stopped spinning, she saw a large, bearded man below.

Well aware that beards were a sign of power, or wisdom, or too much testosterone, Lorma Doom deduced this man must be of some authority in the Empire.

The big guy screeched and chirped at the raptors, who cocked their heads at him, as if deciding whether to obey him. When they hesitated, the whiskered man shook his fist at them. This was the deciding factor. Obviously, these dinosaurs did not want to test their luck with this fellow.

Lorma's raptor descended the spiral staircase clumsily and rejoined its pack below. The three raptors flitted away through the bay door, off to terrorize someone else. Life was dangerous back in this time period.

"Hey, Mister!" she shouted down at him. "A little help?"

"You got it," he said, hurrying over to one of the walls. "Hang in there," he added.

"Oh, hilarious," Lorma said.

Why couldn't she have desk job? Why had she erupted from the womb with a propensity for dealing out Justice? She'd never had a dull life. She'd like to try boring for a change.

Beside her, a pipe batten descended.

"Wrong one," she shouted down at the burly man.

"Sorry!" the man said. The batten halted, and soon Lorma's batten began its descent. The intent was to lower Lorma Doom's batten slowly to the floor. And it started out slowly, but soon accelerated too fast for Lorm's stomach to keep up. After a frightening trip downward, the batten slammed to a halt, flinging Lorma to the floor.

"Sorry about the rough ride. It was out of weight," the man said, apologetically, helping her up.

"What are you trying to say?" Lorma said, hotly, pulling out of the burley man's grip.

"Hey, show a little gratitude, kiddo," the burly man grumbled. "I just saved your life."

"Whatever, I had the situation well in hand," Lorm said, dusting off her hands on her jeans.

"Where'd you get that Axe?" he said, staring at it, as if he hadn't heard her.

"Um," she said. She had been presented with the Ax of Justice by Emperor Andy of course, but that hadn't happened yet. So now she had to think up a lie. She was not a spy. She was not trained for this. She panicked.

And swung the Ax at him. The man was surprisingly spry. He dodged the Ax blade, but Lorma did not actually see him move out of its way. She didn't have time to think about that - she pressed the attack, spinning and chopping, diving and stabbing. All her attempts to strike this man failed, but only just barely.

After a minute of this, the man, as if he were through testing her, reached inside his vest, whipped out a pair of nunchuks. Lorma Doom was very surprised to find her Axe wrenched out of her grip. It clattered to the floor, and the burley man stepped on it.

Lorma backed away. "You must be Dossey," Lorma said. "I've read your file."

"I have a file?" asked Dossey.

"Everyone has a file," Lorma nodded. "Yours is extensive." She frowned down at her Ax. "May I have my Ax back, Mr. Dossey?"

"Why should I return your Ax?" the Dossey asked.

"I'm going to use it to fulfill my mission...." She hesitated, bereft of ideas, and then was struck by a flash of brilliance. "Because I'm from the future, so I already know you're going to return it." A lie! She had done it.

"Wow," Dossey said, bending over to pick up the Ax. "That's pretty impressive."

"You believe me?" she said, not quite believing it herself. Dossey struggled to get down and pick up the weapon.

"Of course," Dossey grunted, finally getting a hold. "And I'm going to help you with your mission, whatever it may be." He stood back up with much effort and noise.

"If I may say so, sir," Lorma said so, "you could benefit from some cybernetic implants."

Dossey scoffed, "Ha! That'll be the day."

"You're right. I am The Dossey. I don't believe we've been introduced." He extended his hand.

"I'm Lorma Doom," Doom said, shaking his hand. She decided to smile at him, too, with mixed results.

Dossey presented the Ax to Lorma. She took it, and felt complete again. She was afraid to admit it, but she was so bonded with the Ax that she felt pain when separated from it.

"Much better," Lorma said.

"So let me give you the grand tour," Dossey said, "and you can tell me about this mission of yours." He offered his arm, and she took it. Warily.

"I'm here to prevent the Dark Times," she told them, as the headed for the one of the side doors.

"Dark Times? What are those?" Dossey asked.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know," explained Lorma.

The door slammed shut thanks to a gust of wind from the adjoining hallway. Once they were gone, the great room was quiet. But it was not empty.

Atop the opposite spiral staircase, a lone figure emerged from the shadows. A sharp-nosed woman with jet black hair tumbling down from underneath a pointy hat had been observing them all this time.

"Dark Times?" she said to herself, because all villains talk to themselves. "You've no idea how Dark!" And with a cackle, she slid down the railing of the spiral stairs and disappeared in a puff of smoke just before she hit bottom.