The World of Doctor Moreau

I drove slowly through the streets of this quaint little town. It had seemed nice and friendly enough when we arrived, but then I saw one of its inhabitants. Since I had been in space once or twice, I wasn't startled to see a rhino-man walking around. As the day progressed, however, I saw more and more of these twisted creatures. This was obviously a world where the experiments of Doctor Moreau yielded more fruit than a simple island.

"Land Captain, it says here that our quarry just escaped to another world."

"Did they leave anything dangerous?" I said, unsure of what I wanted the answer to be.

"No."

"Then let's get out of here. For the love of God, let's get out of here."

Car Friday

The past several days had passed without incident, just me and the car popping in and out of universes trying to find our quarry. I had begun learning how to operate all the car's nifty gadgets, and had thought of a few names for it.

"Ishmael?" I asked.

"That's ludicrous," replied the car, "Why would you name me after a fictional human character?"

"It's either that or a feminine name, car, and you're not too feminine. Yes, you're one manly automobile."

"As a car, I am neither male or female. Still, I see your point. Any more suggestions?"

Before I could reply, several police cars sped past the alley we were in.

"Car, can you get the police scanner?"

"Aye aye, captain."

The radio buzzed for a moment, then a fuzzy voice proclaimed that a nefarious criminal had escaped prison and that all cars were to be on the look-out for him. It gave no description, however, and so it would seem that I could do little to help. However, across the street, I noticed a gentleman at a pay phone. This would be unremarkable, except he was dressed in the traditional prisoner's outfit complete with broken handcuffs.

"Car, do we have anything I can stun him with so we can apprehend him?"

The glove box opened up and spat out a gun that should not have been able to fit into it. I picked it up and the car told me to press a button on the top. I did so, and a harpoon made of energy materialized in the gun.

"Won't this kill him?"

"Once you've aimed it, it adjusts itself to the target's biomass and the wielder's psyche. So no, it won't kill him."

I shrugged, leaned out my window, and shot the convict in the leg. He screamed and fell to the ground, and I leapt out of the car and dashed over to him. He was, indeed, still alive. Not only that, but the scream had attracted the local police. I made a quick exit, hopped into my car, and backed into the shadows while the police took my quarry away.

"What about Friday?" I asked.

"What about it?" replied the car.

"I mean as a name. You know, from Robinson Crusoe. He had a man Friday. You can be my car Friday."

"That only tangentially applies to your motif, Land Captain."

"I like it, though."

"Then I shall be your car Friday."

Bodies Falling in the Snow

The car and I had stopped to get our bearings and to get a new reading on where our quarry was and perhaps to get a little egg nog. It was Christmas, after all. Unfortunately, we had the bad luck to appear right in the middle of some sort of ruckus. I decided to listen in and find out what was going on before taking any action. When I heard a crash, I dashed over to see what was going on. It was then that I saw the two legs sticking out from under the treads of a bulldozer. Ignoring everything else (the police were already on the case), I went over to the bulldozer operator who was shouting at a man who had somehow survived a three-story fall.

"Hey Mac!" said the bulldozer operator, though not to me, "What's goin' on? Bodies are fallin' all over the place! And I think I ran over one of them!"

I stopped in my tracks. He thought he ran over one of them? There was a pair of shins poking out from under the treads of his bulldozer, and he just thought he ran over one of them? It was obvious I was in a place where sanity had long ago lost its hold, and so I went back to my car.

"Where to, Captain?" said the car. I really should give it a name at some point.

"Anywhere but here, car. Anywhere but here."

Not a creature was stirring... not even Max Mouse?!

I sat on top of my 1990 Buick Electra (received as a gift from a grateful politician) and waited, occasionally pouring myself a cup of hot cocoa. It was Christmas Eve, and every superhero knows that he or she may be called upon to save Christmas. After all, unlike those of children, the wish list of Christmas doesn't want the big-time glitzy superheroes: it just wants someone who'll get the job done. It's not just Christmas either, but all the December holidays. This year alone, I saved Hanukkah twice. I was hoping that this year, I just might save Christmas...

As I sipped some cocoa, I felt a rush of wind and heard a thud on the pavement. I left the cup of cocoa in front of my face, obscuring my vision, as the last time I experienced those two things in conjunction it ended up with a corpse on the sidewalk. I slowly lowered the cup, and was quite surprised when I saw an alien spaceship sitting in front of me.

As my eyes adjusted to the flashing light, I realized that it wasn't just an alien spaceship, but the same alien spaceship that sent me from my comfortable if dull Los Angeles existence into the midst of a civil war, later taking me through all sorts of space. (Those adventures available to read here. The spaceship seen here.) Three little blue men came down a gangplank.

"I see you've got a new ship, but you're up to the same old tricks," I said, leaping off my car and putting up my fists, "The tricks of sitting in the middle of the road with your spaceship. You've got five minutes to get that out of here, or..." I tried to think of a good nautical metaphor. After all, I'm the Land Captain. None were forthcoming, so I ended up saying, "I'll ram my car into your ship. It's a Buick, after all. You'd get hurt."

The three aliens started chattering and pointing at me, then one of them twisted a dial on their spacesuit and walked over to me.

"You are the Land Captain?" he asked.

"Indeed I am, matey," I replied.

"You are the one who defeated the terrorist sect?"

"I may have been," I said. I've seen to the defeat of several terrorist sects, but the only one I really remembered was the one I mentioned earlier.

"The one that arrived in Los Angeles that you rammed your car into."

"Aye aye, then. So they were terrorists, then?"

The alien shook violently, apparently their version of a nod. "They are dedicated to the eradication of this and all universes. We regret their ship sent you here, but it is fortuitous, as they have regained their technology and are making a third attempt."

"I see."

"Would you be willing to track and defeat them, Land Captain?"

"Aye aye to that." It looked like I would not only be saving Christmas, but every holiday and every universe ever. Hot diggity!

"Exemplary! We shall fit your vehicle with dimension-hopping equipment and tracking technology." The little blue man's two friends walked over to my car and began poking it.

"When will it be ready?"

"Right now," said the blue man, with what I'm guessing was a smile. "The technology will teach you how to use it. Godspeed, Land Captain."

I hopped in my car through the window and looked at the technology, which had altered the dashboard panel to a bunch of weird looking graphs and meters.

"Ahoy, Land Captain," said my car, "Shall we set sail?"

So my car was like KITT now, eh? It would take some getting used to, no doubt, but it was also pretty neat. "Indeed... er... car. I'll think of a good name for you later, let's go after those intergalactic instigators!"

I was expecting a burst of speed and flaming tire tracks, or at the very least a wormhole. Instead, I felt mildly queasy and then we were outside a Christmas tree lot. It was fishy looking...

"Where are they, car?"

"My sensors indicate they've already skipped dimensions, but they've planted some sort of bomb close by."

I jumped out of the car and dashed into the Christmas tree lot. It was like a maze, and eventually I found some anthropromorphic animals standing around a barrel with fire in it. There was obviously some trouble going on, as a white dog was yelling at some sort of mole about a tree. Then it hit me why this lot was fishy: it was filled with fresh, great-looking trees. I tapped a yellow mouse on the shoulder. He looks disgusted when he sees me.

"What do youse want?"

"What day is it?"

"December 24th. Christmas eve."

"And this lot is still filled with fresh trees? Remarkable!" Then I remembered why I was here. "You haven't seen a bomb anywhere, have you?"

"What did it look like?"

It hit me that I had no idea what the bomb looked like, so I ran back to the car and ignored the fox trying to discuss things with the dog and the mole thing. Then I saw the flashing-green circle in front of my car.

"What do I do with the bomb?" I said, opening the car door.

"Put it in my trunk," said the car, "It's special now."

I nod, and do as the car says. I hop back in the car and pat its steering wheel. It looked like my life was going to be interesting again for a while.