Jamie 5

[Lothian]

I : II : III : IV

It felt good simply to be alive.

The early morning sun was warm across his naked back as Jim ran steadily back towards Glasgow. The session in the shower with Mike had progressed into an evening on the town, which had wound its way to Airdrie, some twenty miles to the east of the city centre, hunting for a house party in the midst of the storm. Much to everyone?s surprise, the party had turned out firstly to exist and secondly to be a rather good one. Things had begun to decline around 4am, and having grabbed a couple of hours sleep, Jim had awoken bright and early. Deciding to employ his new-found strength and stamina, running back into town had sounded like a good idea, and the reality didn?t disappoint.

He?d borrowed the sleeping Mike?s MP3 player, setting it to random. The available range of music was, to use a clich?, eclectic. Skipping over more than he listened to, an appropriate track began to play and he adjusted his stride to run in time.

Sun is shinin' in the sky,
There ain't a cloud in sight
It's stopped rainin'
Everybody's in a play
And don't you know
It's a beautiful new day.

Runnin' down the avenue,
See how the sun shines brightly
In the city on the streets
Where once was pity,
Mr. Blue Sky is living here today.

He continued at a long-limbed easy pace, easing his way along one of the main commuter roads back into the city. Every now and again, out of the corner of his eye, he?d see the flash of a brake light as the driver of a car tried to get a good look at him.

*Step*

?Shit. I?m eye candy. When did that happen?? he thought to himself. He knew damned well, but the novelty remained.

*Step*

His mind drifted back over a series of snapshots of the previous evening.

*Step*

?Nothing matters now.?

*Step*

Pinning Mike up against the shower wall in a passionate embrace ?

*Step*

The widening of Mike?s eyes as Jim encouraged the change, gradually towering over Mike and stretching and straining his way into the rediscovered size.

*Step*

Mike producing a razor, shaking his head and saying ?Beard?s gotta go, man, it?s so fuckin? Seventies.?

*Step*

Looking uncertainly at the new stubbly goatee, and catching a glimpse of Mike?s grinning face in the background ...

*Step*

Climaxing again as the showers began to run cold and the ground keeper?s knocking on the locked changing room door became more insistent.

*Step*

Laughing and hugging as they boarded the taxi to take them to the heart of the club district.

*Step*

Trying to pull on the largest shirt the club had. It smelt like someone had died in it and looked like someone have vomited rather than designed it, but apparently dress codes were dress codes.

*Step*

Ditching the shirt.

*Step*

The fear on the little guy?s face as both looked from the fragments of Jim pint glass on the floor into each other?s eyes.

*Step*

The guy?s smile as Jim bought them both fresh drinks.

*Step*

Damn, but the kid gave good blow jobs.

*Step*

Catching Mike as he dived off the stage.

*Step*

The whistle to hail a cab. He hadn?t been able to do that before.

*Step*

The lingering embrace and wandering hands of the journey, interrupted by the cab driver advising that they?d arrived.

*Step*

Knowing no-one at the party.

*Step*

Exchanging fluids with four of them.

*Step*

What do you call an Airdrie man in a suit?

*Step*

The accused.

*Step*

The girl?s widening eyes as she whispered, ?You?re a big ?un.?

*Step*

Carrying Mike?s dozing form into one of the bedrooms and lying down to sleep next to him.

*Step*

Exiting the shower, yawning and tying his hair back, thinking that a jog would give him the time to figure out how to tell Greg what was going on.

*Step*

?You know that episode of Star Trek ? No.?

*Step*

?You?ve always believed in UFOs ? No.?

*Step*

?It?s a fuckin? alien, man ? honest ?No.?

*Step*

?We?re not alone ? No? Getting worse ...?

*Step*

?I wanna do you. Here an? now ? Mind?s drifting again ??


Mr. Blue you did it right,
But soon comes Mr. Night,
Creepin' over, now his
Hand is on your shoulder,
Never mind, I'll remember you this way.

The sun rose higher in the sky behind him. Jamie had never been one for stripping off in the good weather, Jim thought, and my back?s gonna be sore as hell later on. He continued to make steady progress back into the city centre.


****

In Strathclyde University?s Royal College, the porter glanced up from his newspaper. He?d barely had time to sit down since his 7am shift had begun and now some chubby US tourist seemed intent on robbing him of what little peace he might grab before the undergraduate masses descended.

?What a lovely building,? she cooed, ?I can?t believe it isn?t open to the public.?

?Strictly private, madam,? he advised, shaking his head to reinforce the point, ?university staff and students only.?

She appeared crestfallen, looking round at the marble flooring and dark wood panelling of the entrance, towards the statues beyond the interior doors. ?It?s pre-war, isn?t it??

With a frown and a sigh, the porter folded his paper and stood up. ?Madam,? he began sternly, ?not only is the Royal College pre-war, it is pre-America.?

Engaged in their conversation, neither saw the large semi-naked figure of Jim enter the hall and quickly ascend the stairs, three at a time, before disappearing into the inner doors.

Glancing up at the hall clock, Jim noted that it was 8am. He?d made good time on his way in and would now have at least an hour before Greg was likely to arrive. He slowed his pace to a brisk walk. The building appeared largely deserted, neither staff nor students renowned for their love of early (or in some cases any) mornings. In the cool sombre corridor he grew conscious that a tight fitting pair of green shorts (freshly liberated from the house in Airdrie) was not perhaps the most discreet manner of dress. Catching sight of his reflection in the double glass doors at the end of the corridor he further realised that his height, currently in excess of six feet six, and sweating, bulging torso were likely to attract further attention.

Opening the doors, his nose was assaulted with the scent of chlorine. ?The swimming pool? he realised with a smile. Another experience Jamie had largely avoided. Quickening to a slight jog, he descended the nearby stairs into the basement. The pool had been opened up, but none of the attendants was around. Disposing of his shorts, he dove in, the cool water deliciously closing the pores of his skin and providing a welcoming contrast to the heat of morning sun. Remaining underwater, he completed a length and then the return trip. Resurfacing, and springing out of the water he caught sight of the freshly-laundered towels for that day?s swimmers. Grabbing one, he set to work drying himself whilst looking around for the lost property box.


****


?Something?s really upset him this time? thought Greg as he ascended the stairs to his office, ?he was jist gazin? intae space, mutterin? and no? even lookin? at his paper.? The porter aside, Greg?s main focus was the non-appearance of Jamie the previous evening, together with the resultant sleepless night and inevitable compensatory caffeine-assisted morning routine.

Arriving on the correct level, he fished around in his pockets for a key, and gave a greeting nod to and exchanged a vague smile with a passing familiar face who was carrying a couple of computer hard drives. The department was in the process of updating its IT. ?That?s the trouble wi? uni,? he thought, ?sae many familiar faces, bit ahm buggered if I cun remember aw the names.?

He paused at his office. The door was slightly ajar.

Redepositing the key in his pocket, he cautiously opened the door, wary of what he might encounter. It squeaked as it swung open. ?Gottae get that fixed.? he thought. ?Might be the death o? us.? Wishing he?d stopped considering the situation a fraction of a second earlier and realising that any hope of surprising any intruder was now long gone, he shook his head and took two steps into the room.

Everything seemed to be as normal. Books were scattered, papers were piled and the coffee machine rumbled away to itself next to a collective of mugs harbouring a diverse array of bacteria. ?Except ah?ve no bin in tae turn oan the machine yit.? Just as the thought started to fester, a sudden noise from behind the door caused him to jump.

?Boo!?

Greg took a step back, collided with a chair and landed in a heap of paper that might someday become a thesis.

The door swung back into its frame, closing, revealing the tall and grinning figure of Jim. ?Aw, your face, man! Priceless!? He stepped forward and bent down to help Greg up.

?Prick.? muttered Greg as he struggled to his feet.

?Coffee?? Jamie was already on the other side of the room pouring two cups. ?I brought some milk.?

Removing a page of badly scrawled handwriting festooned with post-it notes from his back, Greg slumped behind his desk and glared over at Jim. ?So, the big man?s back, eh??

?Yeah,? Jim gave a large grin and slapped his shaven cheeks, ?an? looking smooth!?

?How terribly good for ye.? muttered Greg. ?I cin see how ye?d be tae excited wi such a marvellous development tae bother yir arse wi me. If ah wur ye, ah?d maist likely no even notice ma phone gaun.?

Jim?s grin was replaced with a more sombre expression as he handed a cup over to Greg. ?Aye, sorry, but ? things are happening so quickly.?

?Is that the case? I hidnae noticed. Whit?s changed? Dae ye think it?s cus suddenly ye start burstin? oot yir claes an fuckin? off fir days at a time? Dae ye think it?s cus suddenly ye?re hairer than the guy ootae The Joy o? Sex? Dae ye think it?s cus aifter kenning ye fir a couple a years ye suddenly gie me the bes ? ye ? we end up fuckin? in ma flat instead ah jist getting? fucked in ma flat as usual? Whit changed, eh?? He took a sip of coffee. ?Ah?ll tell ye whit?s nae fuckin? changed; ye still couldnae mak a cup o? fuckin? coffee tae save yir life!?

Jim sat down on the other side of the desk. ?You done??

Greg sighed and took a deep breath. ?Ah wis worried. Where wur ye?? He paused. ?An how come yir speakin?? Ah thought ye couldnae when yir ?well ? big.?

?Nothing to worry about.? Jim assured him. ?The whole ?? he paused, looking for the right word, ?change thing was a bit intense to start with. I got lost in it. But it?s easier now. An? it?s fan-fucking-tastic.? The grin returned.

Greg relented a little. ?It?s looking good oan ye.? he admitted. ?An? yir a hell of a ride.? He trailed off, gazing into the murky depths of his cup. He looked up, rolled his tongue over his front teeth and stated, ?It?s that necklace. The charm from the box, from the site.?

Jim nodded. ?Yeah. Sort of. Well, that?s how it started, but it?s more than that.?

He paused. ?It?s difficult.? He almost continued, gazing towards the window on the far wall, then suddenly turned to face Greg, ?Why don?t I just fuck you now and we can do the talky bit later. Right here.?

Looking into his earnest face, Greg was sorely tempted and almost involuntarily he started to rise. His eyes flicked closed and he promptly sat down again. ?Ye ken it?s temptin?. S?more than temptin?. But it?s no the answer, is it? Whit?s goan oan? Whit?s happenin? tae ye??

Jim paused, considering the direct approach. ?Aliens. Well, an alien. I think.?

?Yir haein? a fuckin? laugh!? Greg spluttered. ?Ah may be cabbage lookin? bit ahm nae green. Whit dae ye take me fir??

??s the truth.? said Jim calmly. ?The necklace? he removed it and handed it over to Greg, ?is of alien origin.?

Examining the object, Greg saw that it was simply a round bronze disc attached to a simple thin leather strap. ?Bollocks!? he opined, ?It?s no. It?s a bit ay metal an a bit ay coo.? Growing in confidence, he placed it around his own neck. ?See? It disnae work! If this wis changin? ye how come ahm no brushin? ma heid oaf the ceilin? and rippin? the shirt oaf ma back, eh??

?Close your eyes,? said Jim.

Greg complied.

?Take a deep breath. Lean back in the chair. Relax.?

Greg leant back, the chair creaked. He let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped.

After ten seconds Jim continued, ?Picture the necklace. Remember it in your hands. Remember how it felt. Remember the symbols.?

He paused, then asked ?What does it remind you of??

?The dark.? came a faint response. ?Movement in the dark.?

?Look into the dark, walk up to it and tell me what you see.? suggested Jim.

A pause.

?A cage.?

?And what?s in the cage?? asked Jim.

?Nothing. It?s empty.? came the response, still in the same faint, level tone.

Jim?s eyebrows furrowed. This wasn?t the response he?d expected. Then it suddenly made sense.

?What was in the cage?? he asked Greg.

?A man, a beast.?

?And where is he now??

Greg?s eyes suddenly flew open, he gasped, and almost fell backwards off his chair.

?Boo!? said Jim playfully.

Greg quickly removed the necklace and threw it back over to Jim. ?It?s you! Bit ? how??

?Dunno exactly.? Jim returned the item to round his neck. ?I got the box and started seeing a caged beast, or man, or whatever, in my dreams. Then it got out of my dreams and into, well, into me. Speaking of which, is the box still in your flat??

Still slightly wary, Greg replied,? It wis, bit ah?ve goat it here.? He produced the item in question from his backpack and handed it to Jim.

Jim quickly looked it over. It was closed once more. He shifted in his seat to store the box about his person, then remembered his recent record for retention of clothing. ?Maybe you could keep a hold if it for me in the meantime?? he suggested, returning the box to Greg.

?Sure.? was the response. ?So, there?s an alien in the necklace??

?Nah.? replied Jim. ?It?s nowhere near here. The charm?s a sort of a receiver. Bit like a TV aerial. It?s been tuning in, and the effects take a little while to build up, but it allows the, the thing to communicate.?

?The Thing?? echoed Greg. ?Nae name then??

?No nothing. No name, no body, no planet. They?re incorporeal.?

?So whit dae ye call it??

?Why would I need to call it anything??

?Soonds a bit rude tae me.?

?You being the expert on extraterrestrials??

?Fair point, man. Bit shairely it?s goat a name, eh??

?No.?

?What about ?Bob?, Bob?s a guid name.?

?Always ready to take the piss, aren?t you?? Jim sighed and shook his head. ?Well, if you need a label, it?s as good as any.?

?So, how?d Bob find ye?? Greg leaned forward.

?Luck? Dunno. Just did. I don?t think there?s any logic to it, no great cosmic design. I just stumbled upon the box when he was looking.?

?Bob likes tae watch?? suggested Greg.

They both laughed, then Greg stopped abruptly. ?You mean he was watchin? the ither nicht? Watchin? me? Watchin? us??

?Well, yes, but ?? Jim struggled to convey the idea. ?It?s really not how you?re picturing it. It ? he ? shit, we?re really not calling him Bob are we??

?Ony better names spring tae mind??

With a resigned shake of the head, Jim continued, ?Bob doesn?t care what I, what we, do. He?s just in it for the experience.?

Recognising Greg?s best blank look, Jim continued. ?Think about it. He?s insubstantial. No body, no physicality, no nothing. Just thought. Picture it; they live almost infinite lives, spending their time in solemn contemplation of events around them; noble, but dull. Popping down the street for an ice-cream would get to be a total thrill if it was the only thing you physically did and you could only do it once every hundred years or so.?

?Yup. There?s logic there,? Greg agreed, ?fucked up, alien logic, but ah?ll agree.?

?So they send out carrier waves every now and again, hoping to find something different.?

?An naturally, Glasgow oan a Satirday nicht wis toap o? thir list, eh? Whir bettir tae boldly gaun??

Jim shook his head in amusement. ?You reckon Bob?s an explorer??

?Course. Whit else wid he be??

?That he?s here to learn the secrets of humanity? To appreciate and benefit from our culture? To better himself through our example??

?Well ?? Greg began.

?No. Just no. They figured this place out, and us and our futures with it, tens of thousands of years ago. In the grand scheme of things we?re barely a footnote, hardly worth a mention.? He took a sip of coffee.

?So, why??

?For the experience.? Jim repeated. ?The one thing we do have going for us is that, compared to Bob-world, we?re a sensory trip of a lifetime; the sensations, the hormones, the highs and lows, the chemicals we imbibe to change our perceptions ? we?re a brilliant coffee break for him.?

?Coffee break??

?Aye. Relatively. Human lifespan?s about ten minutes to him. He was here before, about two thousand years ago. Where?d I find the box??

?The Roman dig.?

?And when would it last have been in circulation??

?About 2000 years ago??

?Right. He was here then and did? Jim gestured towards himself, ?this then too. Lovely chap called Baliticaurus. Got a bit of a reputation for himself ? you should look him up.?

?Aye.? Greg was a bit distracted. ?So why no jist keep wi wee Jamie then, why the changes??

?Come on!? said Jim with a wink, ?The guy?s on holiday. Give him a break. Human DNA?s a walk in the park for him; why not let him have a bit of fun.? His tone dropped to a conspiratorial level, ?After all, we?re certainly havin? a blast. What better way to experience humanity than in a top of the range model? Convertible too.?

?So, in a nutshell, yir sayin? thit ye?ve bin possessed by a horny alien wha wants ye tae fuck yir way through life??

Jim nodded sagely. ?Life?s a bitch, eh??


****


Twenty minutes later the pair rose to leave the office, Jim to attend a lecture and Greg to give one.

?Ahm still pissed at ye fir blankin? me last nicht.? warned Greg.

??Understandable,? agreed Jim, ?but it felt like the first time I?d really played football properly; it wasn?t the usual mad rush. I understood what was going on, could read the players, understood where they were coming from and where they wanted to go. We might?ve lost, but I had to celebrate with the guys ? cannae be a poor loser after all.?

Greg shook his head. ?Gaun oot on the lash tae celebrate a defeat? Yir still Scottish, eh??

They laughed.

?Tonight. Definitely. Meet you for something to eat, then maybe a club?? suggested Jim, opening the office door.

?The Garage?? suggested Greg. ?Bit ay food first, though? Seven?? They wandered into the hallway, Jim heading left and Greg right.

?Garage. Tonight.? agreed Jim, walking with his head turned towards Greg. Turning back, he narrowly striding into a low figure, bent over tying his shoelaces. ?Sorry, man.? he offered, before heading down the corridor.


****

They met up later that evening on the South side of the Clyde. Greg waited on a riverside bench which remained bathed in the setting warm sun. He could see Jim rapidly approaching over one of the bridges. He ran past the dwindling waves of workers abandoning the city centre for the suburbs. As Greg squinted to get a better look he was sure that Jims clothes had been replaced once more and his unbuttoned shirt flapped behind him. ?Wee green men, eh? If only they knew.?

Jim arrived, panting slightly. ?Sorry. Late.?

?Nae worries. Better record than last nicht, eh??

?Shall we?? Jim straightened. ?The Garage is on Sauchiehall Street, isn?t it??

?Aye.?

?Back on the other side of the river??

?Aye.?

?Nice night for a swim??

?Aye. Knock yersel oot, bit dinnae expect me tae join ye.?

Jim removed his shirt and jeans, handing them to Greg. ?Got a bit of sunburn on my back this morning. Not used to it. Maybe the water?ll cool it down.?

Greg reviewed the expanse of angry red before him. Shook his head and patted Jim on the back. ?Maybe.?

Shooting Greg a pained look, Jim jumped onto the safety rail between the path and the water. ?See you on the other side??

?Aye. Maybe the salt water?ll dae ye some guid.?


****

They had slowly made their way from the Northern bank of the river up to the top of Sauchiehall Street. On the way, pubs had been visited and chips hungrily devoured. The last of the sun disappeared in the Western sky and streetlamps began to flicker on.

Entering The Garage, they made their way up the fairy-lit steps and gazed at their reflections on the mirrored walls and ceiling.

?Classy place, eh?? suggested Jim, with a smile.

Reaching the top of the stairs, they entered the dark main hall which spent alternate evenings as a dancefloor and a gig venue. Tonight the entertainment was provided by a DJ and the floor was packed with the young of the city, attempting to forget the drudgery of their lives for a couple of hours.

Glancing at the twisting, glistening young bodies, Jim licked his lips. Suddenly conscious that Greg was watching, he suggested, ?Beer??

Greg nodded and followed Jim to the bar, splitting his attention between the prefect form before him and the mass of humanity behind.

As the evening wore on they spent their time dancing, drinking and coming as close to fucking as one can in such a venue without attracting the attention of the staff.

Detaching himself from Greg, Jim shouted over the music, ?Toilet.?

Greg nodded and took a deep drink from his glass. He?d need a moment or two to get over that hand-job.

Jim made his way across the packed dancefloor, squeezing through whichever gaps presented themselves in the throng. Almost constantly he felt the pressure of flesh on him and it took a mighty act of self-control (and the reminder that Greg was little more than forty feet away) not to simply stop and engage in the nearest opportunity. More than a few seized on the chance to press themselves hopefully against him, inviting whatever he might offer. He felt the crowd begin to thin as he reached the far side of the floor, and felt a hand upon his shoulder which then brushed lightly against his neck. It was getting too much, and he gratefully hurried into the toilets to relieve himself.

The return journey took longer as he deliberately moved round the fringes of the floor, eventually returning to the table to find a fresh round of drinks awaiting him. He slumped into a chair.

?Yer lookin? beat? shouted Greg.

Jim nodded and sighed. ?Late night and early morning. It wasn?t a problem earlier, but it?s catching up now. Guess the new body will take a bit of getting used to.?

?Let me give you a hand? Greg said, suggestfully.

Jim shook his head. ?No.? He yawned. ?I just need a minute.? He closed his eyes.

A moment later, Greg shook him awake. ?Anair drink??

Jim frowned. He?d only just sat down to one. He glanced at the table and saw Greg?s empty glass next to his full one.

?Ye?ve bin sleepin?.? advised Greg. ?Oot like a licht fir the past twentae minutes.? He shook his head. ?Sweet really. Ah cid hear ye snorin? above aw this racket.? He gestured over to the DJ.

Jim stretched, picked up the drink and downed it. ?Get me another, I?ll get some air and be back in five minutes.?

They both left the table, Greg heading for the bar and Jim the nearest exit.

As Jim moved through the fire doors he pulled up his jeans, which had sunk below his hips. He yawned and stretched. His arms retained a slight covering of salt from his earlier swim in the river and he rubbed them to try to remove some of the scales, before reaching up to scratch his neck. Something was wrong, but he wasn?t sure what. The doors swung behind him and he found himself in the long, narrow, enclosed yard which lay to the rear of the club. Mostly in shadow, one wall was partly lit by a second storey neon sign, flashing purple and red alternatively. The cool night air seemed to awaken him a little.

?Shit.? He knew now what had changed. His hands rose to his neck. His bare neck. The charm had gone.

He walked down the yard, cursing loudly to himself. ?How the fuck could you have been so stupid? Eh? Boasting about clarity and vision? Being able to read people? Idiot. Fucking idiot. The one thing that?s turned yir life around and ye lose it in a fuckin? club.?

He felt weaker, he felt alone and his mind began to cloud again, this time through fear in addition to fatigue. ?Wake the fuck up.? he growled to himself, smacking the sides his head with his open palms.

He didn?t notice the fire doors open quietly behind him, allowing a figure to slip out, before they closed just as silently. The figure hugged the plentiful shadows and stealthily made its way towards Jim.

Jim reached the end of the yard and pressed his forehead and hands against the heavy wooden delivery gates there. He exhaled deeply, inhaled and then spat on the ground. Behind him he heard a clicking sound and he spun round in surprise.

?No such a fuckin? big cunt now, eh?? a voice suggested from the shadows, before adding in a mocking sweet tone ?Loast sumthin???

Jim could make out nothing more than a vague outline, but as the figure shifted position slightly he caught a glint of metal a few feet above the ground. The threat cleared his mind and he pushed the absence of the necklace to one side in order to concentrate on the more immediate threat.

Jim took a step forward, then another, advancing on the shadows. With a grin he advised, ?Still able tae take you. You should pose no significant problems whatsoever.? He grinned, ?Now why not step into the light and give me a good look at your face before I beat the crap out of it so nobody can recognise it ever again??

The bullet tore into the flesh below his left shoulder. He twitched and took a step back, not quite comprehending what had happened. He stepped forward once again and a second bullet impacted centrally on his chest with a meaty thud.

Confused, Jim raised a hand, placed it on his shirt and raised it to his face. It glistened a wet, rich, darkness in the glow of the neon light and he slowly slumped to his knees.

A third bullet smashed into his gut, and he doubled over, his head bouncing off the ground. He crashed onto his side.

The figure emerged from the shadows and loomed over him. It reached over and removed Jim?s mobile phone from his back pocket. The phone and its battery were soon separated, the battery thrown over the gates onto the street beyond and the rest of the phone flung some sixty feet back towards the club, bouncing off the fire doors and a wall before coming to rest in the gloom.

The figure kicked Jim squarely in the stomach, causing him to retch dryly and twist into a foetal position, then it turned and walked slowly towards the middle of the yard. It removed the charm from its pocket and placed it around its neck.

The figure convulsed, dropping the gun in surprise and bending over almost double. ?I see you?ve warmed it up for me.? it said hoarsly, forcing a smile. Another convulsion and it let out a low and constant moan of pain, body and head bowed.

Jim attempted to rise to his feet, failing and collapsing in pain. He began to inch his way slowly over the cold ground towards a wall for support to get back to his feet.

The figure?s head suddenly snapped up and gazed heavenwards. The moan increased to a shriek of pain as its bones began to crack and rearrange themselves and muscular mass was added as if from nowhere. Its white shirt seemed to explode as the scream of pain dropped two octaves and became a roar of triumph, its power matched only by the raw energy exuded by its now massive form.

Then silence.

It breathed deeply, then bent to collect the discarded gun, stowing it in the remains of its trousers. It began to run, narrowly avoiding Jim, and, tensing its mighty legs, leapt over the gates and out to the city beyond.

Jim felt a pool of liquid form around him as he continued to inch towards the wall. His hands seemed sticky as they grasped for purchase on the ground. Reaching the wall he managed to pull himself up and, placed both hands on it for support. Woozily he inched his way back towards the fire doors.

*Lurch*

?What the fuck just happened?? he thought.

*Thud*

?Not far now.?

*Thump*

?Getting difficult.?

*Lurch*

?Greg?ll find me.?

*Thud*

He collapsed once more to the ground, the fire doors still impossibly distant, some forty feet away.

As he drifted out of consciousness a verse echoed through his head.

Salt scales upon my drying arms
Burned my back beneath the burning rays
Looking down, looking down
Down, down again

40' remain


It was some time before Jamie?s body was found.

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by Lothian

What better way to experience humanity than in a top of the range model? Convertible too.?

?So, in a nutshell, yir sayin? thit ye?ve bin possessed by a horny alien wha wants ye tae fuck yir way through life??

Jim nodded sagely. ?Life?s a bitch, eh??

My God, this is brilliant! Where do I start? The writing is incredibly good. The dialogue is natural and believable. The Scots dialect sends a tingle through my willie and is well worth the extra effort to read. The characters have well developed personalities and relationships. Some of your lines were funny enough to make me laugh out loud, and yet the humour is dry. I loved the little bit about the American tourist. When they started calling the alien 'Bob' I couldn't stop smiling. I love the music clips - what a great idea! It adds atmosphere and dimension to the story. On top of all that, it has dramatic tension and a sense of mystery. And hot, sexy descriptions of the characters and their activities.

Bravo! Lothian, Bravo!

[rtulde]

I never saw this coming! I hope Jim/Jamie survives. We finally get an explanation and then a new mystery crops up. I can't wait to see how this turns out.

[redroger11]

Well Lothian... you are very good. You got all of the emotions out of me this time. And I would love to put my two cents worth in and also say that I Hope Jim/Jamie survives. But usually in stories, when people find a body instead of the person they are talking about, the author means that they are dead. But you still have Greg holding onto the box. And Greg saw the very same place that Jamie saw the Beast/giant in the cage. The aliens that created the situation could pull Jamie in there. But the one taking the "Coffee Break" sure jumped ship when it started to look painful for Jamie/Jim.

I really hope there are a few more chapters. Actually, a lot more chapters. And that Jamie is in them somehow. Just my opinion.
It just hurts to think the little guy gets what he wants and the moment that doubt is cast away, so is his life.
But Lothian is the one with this vision, and I'll be reading with the rest of you, to find out what happens next.

Good work,Man.

redroger11

[Lothian]

Thanks all, hugely kind of you.

I can?t take credit for the ?pre-America? line. It?s something I heard on Radio 4?s News Quiz a couple of weeks ago. Brilliant programme ? a British news analysis programme broadcast on the stuffiest radio channel in the world and hosted by a midget Danish lesbian former kids TV presenter. You couldn?t make it up.

Yeah, so a body at the end. It?s certainly ambiguous. It?s not as if I used ?corpse?, but then Jim?s been shot three times, has lost a bucketload of blood and has been left in an alley ? hardly healthy!

Incidentally, all the clues as to the gunman are in there. You all know who it is.

And ?Bob? was going to be ?Dave? until I realised (about 10 minutes before posting!) that I?d used the name before. Thanks to Blackadder for saving my bacon there.

[ARCHEON]

Great work. Gotta love ELO. ;-)

[ts1976]

This story is such a pleasure to read! Love it!

?No. Just no. They figured this place out, and us and our futures with it, tens of thousands of years ago. In the grand scheme of things we?re barely a footnote, hardly worth a mention.?

Earth: Mostly harmless...

[redroger11]

Ah ladie ya gie me hope. Theres world tieing it all together and Greg can still get there. If he can figure out the box. The box. the box.
Errrrrrr.

Yer comments yesterday got me chuckling. I know how it gets with the names and that MDLFKTVP. You are so right. Who's imagination could ever pull that out of the air?

Keep Writing

Hugs;
redroger11

P.S. Oh wow. Now I'm gettin it. Bobs.