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The Things we Find, Chapter One

By Doc Sherwood

By Doc SherwoodPublished 2 years ago 6 min read
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Two girls, pink and pretty in the autumn morning, proceeded down Nottingham’s High Street catching swirling leaves in their hair.

“I still don’t understand why I’m not in class,” said Mini-Flash Juniper.

Neetra just smiled, and told her not long now until she found out. It had in fact only been while clearing Mini-Flash Juniper’s desk, resigned to standard lessons not having worked but still at a loss as to what to do with her instead, that Neetra stumbled on her scrap paper and thence on a plan. Pages crammed with the most intricate of tessellations, drawn during those stretches of downtime when Mini-Flash Juniper was waiting for the boys to be done with assignments she’d long finished, but not lazy work, anything but. Neetra had been through the whole sheaf and found not one shaded-in polygon touching a blank one.

This had called to mind at once Mini-Flash Juniper’s uniform that day on the beach. Folded like it was fresh from the dry-cleaner’s and arranged in a perfect square with boots beside and knickers on top. Even though Mini-Flash Juniper had been stripping off in anger while she did it.

Our heroine had taken one big gamble on this girl, but that was when she knew she was on the right track. It wasn’t that Juniper didn’t mind repetitive tasks. Rather, they were second nature to her, or possibly even her refuge. From there Neetra began to see that what she’d read at first as cruelty might in fact be fear.

They entered the Media Centre through its high glass doors. Neetra waited five minutes while Mini-Flash Juniper went into the changing-room to take off the membrane she was wearing and put an identical one on. Then together they went upstairs to the publications department.

Sludge-Man greeted them. As he habitually wore fewer clothes than even Mini-Flash Juniper, the girls were not alarmed by his state of undress any more than they were the greenish-brown slime-coated aspect of his Grecian physique. Easels bearing drafts for the next episode of his comic strip were hung with drapes because he’d known Neetra was coming.

That same girl turned to Mini-Flash Juniper and grinned.

“Wishing you good luck on your first day at work!” said she.

Juniper looked aghast.

“A job?” she cried. “But I outstrip all the boys at Flashball and I’m the only Mini-Flash here who can do two circuits of Nottingham’s periphery!”

“Correct on both counts,” Neetra agreed. “Now you need to see that that’s the problem. You like your comfort-zone too much, Jenny,” and our heroine had tried her hardest to resist the nickname but didn’t honestly think she could be blamed. “Being best every time at the only things you know might make you feel safe, but you won’t learn anything about the cause, and this city exists because we believe the Special Program has to do that. Sludge-Man, will you fetch the things we talked about?” she added sweetly, batting her eyes. “I’ll keep watch on your drawings while you’re out of the room.”

One of Sludge-Man’s Mini-Flash assistants brought him the items in question, so that he didn’t even have to look away. Neetra stamped her foot.

The employer spread everything out on a table so Mini-Flash Juniper could see. There was a finished copy of the upcoming issue of the comic, plus a fabric sew-on patch with a Four Heroes insignia embroidered on it, and a roll of sticky-tape. “So listen up, radical raw recruit,” said he. “These,” gesturing with the one, “go on the corner of these,” then with the other, “using this,” and finally with the third. “This week’s humongous haul’s not hot to hit the newsstands yet, but my foxy fan here tells me you’re one quick chick, and if you work the way you get the oozes pumping then your bodacious boss can relate!”

Mini-Flash Juniper, as Neetra had predicted, looked more than equal to the challenge. Its content however seemed to perplex her. “What would be the purpose of this?” she asked.

“Well,” Neetra explained, “the free gift makes it…nicer, Juniper, for the people who buy the comic. It’s something they can keep, or in this particular case sew onto their clothes if they like. It makes getting the comic more special, more memorable. Joe’s very keen on this sort of thing. He sees it as one of the most important parts of what we’re doing here. He’s going to want to know about your experiences on this job too, because you’ll still be taking his Special Program masterclass, as and when he comes back…”

There was commotion in the street outside. It had started small, but risen to the extent that Neetra and friends were no longer able to ignore it.

hurried downstairs. Beyond the Media Centre cheering crowds of tunics hopped and waved, with such characteristic billowy bounce that even the beige ones were trooping the colour. At the heart of this impromptu Flag Day a Nottingham City interplanetary hauler had landed and was lowering its ramp to the road. Out strode the men of the hour, though the ensuing tide of adulation had as much to do with the boys and girl, for while Mini-Flashes loved any heroes’ welcome they were especially uproarious when three of their seniors were on the home team.

These short-skirted sports victors Flashtease, Flashstanch and Flashbuoy proceeded down the gangplank beside Croldon Thragg and his young apprentice Thomthar. Leading the way was Joe.

Neetra knew she shouldn’t, not in front of everyone. Nor did she doubt there were females in large number who’d have been more than able to resist. Not this female though.

She ran up the ramp and threw herself into his open arms, smothering his face with kisses. Yes, it was the full final-moments-in-2596 treatment. That was just the effect he had on her, transforming her back to that little girl every time. Holding her tight he whirled her round and round, these aeronautics achieved more through Neetra’s momentum than any physical strength on Joe’s part, for she’d grown some since the day they left that future. Throngs of Mini-Flashes below were getting the best view in Nottingham of her frilly white ones but Neetra didn’t mind at all, and besides it was still less than she’d shown them last week.

“You remembered I asked you to surprise me!” Neetra beamed. “Good business trip?”

“I have so much to tell you,” Joe replied. “This is but part of the surprise.”

Sludge-Man greeted Thomthar with glee, the latter struggling slightly through the convoluted handshake demanded. “Nottingham’s hottest spots and funkiest chicks await us, homeboy!” enthused Sludge-Man, this done. “Let’s go get you reacquainted, whilst imparting unto yours truly artistic inspiration to the max!”

“Go on, lad, you’ve earned it,” added Croldon Thragg.

Thomthar, thanking him, stepped off the gangplank to join Sludge-Man and noticed for the first time that that one had picked up an apprentice of his own. “Who’s this?” asked Thomthar with a smile, and for the briefest of flickering instants his delicate lepidopteran beauty shone down on Mini-Flash Juniper.

She, whose lips had been parted wide from the moment she laid eyes on him, blurted something about how she was going to be taping all the patches to the corners of the comics.

The young men set off, moth-wings and a glistening green gluteus side-by-side on their way to town. Neetra, arms still encircling Joe, was about to depart likewise when she caught a glimpse of the girl in the membrane. That one’s gaze remained fixed on the dwindling mismatched pair of pairs, and if Neetra had thought the autumn crispness brought some colour to Mini-Flash Juniper’s naturally fair skin it was nothing to the shade she was turning now.

“Jen?” Neetra prompted kindly, trying hard not to giggle.

Mini-Flash Juniper had to draw several deep breaths before anything came in response.

“He’s not a boy,” was what she eventually managed.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Sci Fi
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Doc Sherwood

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  • Jay Kantor10 months ago

    Doctor KnickerLess; aka ~ Mr. 'Fetish' you so amuse me! Could it be that your 'Big-Brain' has become fogged-in? My 'Friend,' speaking of "Comfort Zones," I've just gone out of mine to write a new story. I'm NOT going to tell you the idea/title because you're apt to steal it - Nah! I'm not going to publish until June. Who do I think I Yam one of those pumpin'-out  A.I. writers on our site?  Albeit we may have different 'styles' I relate to you so well. Question: If you have a moment please see 'Love~Hate' - Circles of Life - I wonder if in your schools you had children's games such as these? I ask this because I recall that our current 'May Day Pole Celebration' was a take off of a British plague; think it was called "Rosie?" Ashes~Ashes all fall down." *I'm so grateful for your comment on 'Shout-Out' but, I don't think anybody read it? It saddens me that the only thing I see on there are comments by the Newbie (4) word "Schticles." Yes, "Schticles" {Look that up in your Oxford-Dick under Yiddish funnin'} Of course, I get that but it would be so lovely to have a Senior Link: Who better than 'Former Note Passers' that relate to one another: Yes, I've harped on this many times! So, call a "Writers-Cop" - With Respect - 'J'

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