Day 3
Laurel, Nimnul and Foxglove had been up all night when the sun's rays began to creep into the tree. While Nimnul had been extremely productive over the last several hours, Laurel had ended up needing to scold him for trying to take shortcuts which were prohibited by the laws of Earth-C.
"Nimnul, what are you doing? That won't work here. This isn't Earth-A or Earth-R. This is a strongly rule-based universe. There are no cheat codes for you to exploit. You either play by the rules or you get nowhere."
Nimnul quickly sketched out a design of a disk-shaped object hovering above the ground. It would have been recognisable as a UFO from the "Saucer Scare" of the 1950's, if Earth-C had gone through a "Saucer Scare".
"How about this?" he asked.
"How are you supposed to build that with a World War Two technology base?"
"You just build a big enough magnet, and point it at the ground!"
Laurel shook her head. Typical cartoon thinking.
"That won't keep anything in the air. You'll just be attracted to any iron in the ground and stuck there."
"Details. That's what's wrong with this world. Too many details! It's hopeless! You have a better chance of inventing something that will work on this world. I give up!"
"Well, maybe you should take a look at what Gadget has managed to build."
"Oh, not that, anything but that! I escaped one world when I discovered I was living in her shadow!"
"Well, your counterpart has been following the rules and he's managed to rebuild substantial portions of this world's technology. You, however, are not used to following the rules when inventing something. You need examples of what can and can't be done. The only such examples which are readily available are those in Gadget's workshop, so you may as well use those."
Nimnul sighed. "Fine. Let's get this over with. Take me to her laboratory."
Laurel led him to a room at the back of Ranger HQ and flipped a switch. A variety of light bulbs scattered around the room began to glow.
Nimnul stood for a second, listening to the near-silence in the room. "Now that's how you build a generator!" he proclaimed despite himself.
He then walked slowly around the room, stopping occasionally to pick up and examine some half-finished invention of Gadget's.
"Well, any luck?"
"Hmm..." Nimnul was silent for a moment.
"Ever heard of a coil gun?" he asked, picking up a number of items scattered around the room.
"Yeah, I've seen pictures of home-made ones on the Wired."
"Well based on these components, I'd say that the coil gun is not only possible on this world, but Gadget was just a few steps away from building a couple. I'll just save her the trouble."
"Well, a couple of coil guns will give us a lot more firepower than crossbows. Almost makes me feel sorry for Fat Cat. Almost."
At that moment, Sparky seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Hello again. I've heard about what happened at Fat Cat's yesterday."
"Come to gloat?" Nimnul asked absently, absorbed in his work.
"Gloat? Professor, villains gloat. I am not a villain."
"Everybody gloats, or else nearly everybody I encountered in my childhood was a villain. Come to think of it, that would explain a lot..."
"In any case, you need to succeed in your assault today. Should you fail, the world will be knocked back into last century, and given the damage which has already hit it, we really can't afford that."
Nimnul nodded grimly. "Understood."
"Now, Lahwhinie, I need to know how you survived Fat Cat's machine. My agent wasn't able to figure out how you did it."
"It's not mind-control. It's an unguided dimensional switcher."
"So, where did it send you?"
"Limbo. There are others trapped out there, but Nimnul thinks he can modify the device to reverse the process."
"Got the doohickey for that right here," said Nimnul, patting a full pocket of his coat.
"Good, Good. You need to do this today. Fat Cat is planning on launching a series of balloons to relay the signal from his device tomorrow."
"And... done! We're ready to go. Wish us luck!"
"You'll need it, and this map showing where the defences are strongest." Sparky tossed Laurel a rolled up piece of paper. "I'll show myself out." With that he walked around the corner and disappeared.
Nimnul stepped back, looked at the tank-sized (in mouse scale) guns, then looked back at the too-small door of the lab.
"Um..."
Laurel sighed and pressed a button on the wall, causing the garage door mechanism at the other end of the lab to open.
"When did that get there?"
"It's been there the whole time. You were just too engrossed in your work to notice it."
"Alright, let's do this!" He made an enthusiastic run at one of the wheeled guns...and absolutely failed to move it.
"...a little help?"
Laurel put her fingers to her mouth and blew a shrill whistle, which was shortly answered by the presence of Foxglove.
"Ooh, those are big guns!" she said.
"Yes, and we need help moving them to the garage to mount on the Ranger Rover."
"Okay!"
With the three of them pushing, and two trips, they managed to get the coil guns into the garage, where Nimnul got to work with the crane and some scrap metal mounting them on the Ranger Rover.
An hour later, Nimnul stepped back from his creation. The former Ranger Rover was completely transformed into a full-blown tank. Five-ply, five-millimetre-thick armour plating covered every surface. The armour itself was composed of alternating layers of steel and adhesive. The twin coil guns were mounted inside a turret-like housing on the top, where the operator could easily reload them with bits of scrap metal (mostly rusty nails). Mounted on the under-carriage were a half-dozen nozzles for dispensing a variety of unpleasant substances of Nimnul's own creation. Finally, the front of the vehicle was fitted with an electric motor spinning a pair of sharpened screws with explosives attached to them, nicknamed "doorbusters" by Foxglove. Nimnul had originally wanted to use an old lead paperweight as a battering ram, but Laurel had talked him out of it, citing that the mass would limit their mobility too much to be practical.
"Well, that's all I can do in the world of building," Nimnul concluded. "The outcome of the next stage depends on your driving skills and my aiming skills."
"And mine," chimed in Foxglove.
Nimnul nodded. "You retain the freedom of movement we lose by using the tank. We need you to weaken their defences and keep their attacks split so we can get close enough to engage our main weapons. Do you have everything you need?"
"We do have some explosives she could carry and drop from the air, and if she's blindfolded, any attempts at using the Displacer on her would be futile. After all, her echolocation should be able to make up for a loss of vision."
"Indeed."
"I don't know how much the Rangers pull their punches, but it doesn't look like you two know the meaning of the term," remarked Foxglove.
"It's amazing what you can do when you don't have a good reputation to maintain," replied Nimnul. Laurel gave a feral grin of agreement.
Fat Cat emerged on the roof of the Happy Tom Cat Food factory to find out the source of the noise that interrupting his latest "morale speech" to his mindless minions.
"Mulder!" he roared.
"Yes, sir?" the fox replied.
"A tank? A tank? Where in blazes did that tank come from?"
"Well, when a mummy tank and a daddy tank love each other very much..."
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! The rest of you, get the guns over to this side of the building!"
As the zombies scrambled about as fast as zombies are capable, Mulder slipped away.
Even down on the ground and over the noise of the tank's motors Fat Cat and Mulder had been loud enough for Laurel to hear them. A round of snickering in the tank had ensured.
Laurel turned serious again.
"Let's show him what we're packing. Ready the doorbuster screws."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" replied Nimnul and powered up the motor for the screws.
Foxglove hopped out the back with three bombs. While Laurel and Nimnul blasted a hole in the door, Foxglove would distract the guards by bombing them from the air.
Laurel drove right for the door, a crossbow bolt bouncing off the tank's armour in the process, and coinciding with Foxglove's first bomb going off, rammed the screws up against the door. The motor and gears swiftly drove the screws into the door, pushed by the tank's main drive motors. Once they stuck, Nimnul started pulling the bolts holding the mechanism to the underside of the tank and disconnected the motor from the tank's batteries. While doing so, Foxglove's second bomb went off. Nimnul then yanked on the cord holding the timer's pin in place.
"Get us clear!"
Laurel promptly put the tank into reverse and it sped away from the door much faster than the initial approach due to leaving behind a significant amount of mass. Five seconds later, Foxglove dropped her last bomb and the timer ran out, releasing a spring-loaded magnet to fly into a coil of wire and generate a brief pulse of electricity which set off the explosives and blasting a hole significantly bigger than needed in the door and pelting the tank with fragments of wood and bits of metal from the motorised assembly.
"Man the weapons, Nimnul, we're going in!"
The tank sped forward and into the hole.
Once inside, the tank came under fire from a pair of automatic pistols which had been set up as makeshift gun turrets, controlled by Fat Cat via a set of levers. Snout and Mepps had a third gun which put them off balance every time they managed to fire it.
Inside the tank, Nimnul kept up a steady stream of flying scrap metal by alternately firing the twin coilguns. While the bombardment from Fat Cat's defences hindered his accuracy, he did manage a few hits. The coilguns themselves weren't powerful enough to kill at this distance, but they were indeed powerful enough to bruise with blunt ammunition and cause scratches with rough edged projectiles.
The tank's liquid dispensers, controlled by Laurel, were enough of a deterrent to keep anyone away from the tank, but she knew it was only buying them time. Mulder had, under orders and during a window Fat Cat had opened up for such a purpose, attempted to directly attack the tank, but the chemical burns from the dispensers had been enough to make him quickly back off.
Eventually, Fat Cat ran out of bullets and a stray one bouncing off the tank's armour knocked out Snout. Almost immediately afterwards, Foxglove appeared behind Mepps and dropped a spanner on his head.
While the tank was no longer in any fit state to drive, given significant structural damage and the batteries being almost flat from powering the coilguns, Fat Cat was in retreat, and with good reason: Laurel and Nimnul had handheld weapons.
"You can come out now," Foxglove said, emerging from the stairway and pushing aside the unconscious body of Mepps. "I got two on the roof. All that's left are Fat Cat, Mulder... and Winifred."
"I'm guessing you want her, right?" asked Laurel.
"If you don't mind." The bat had a smile fit to induce nightmares in small children... or her counterparts on Earths A and R.
After the sound of a gear unscrewing, the top of the tank opened and Nimnul and Laurel climbed out wearing small blocks of wood tied to their feet until they cleared the chemical spills. Nimnul was carrying a mini-rifle, a weapon he'd adapted from one of Gadget's prototypes. The original had used compressed air from a tank worn on the back, but after finding some old bullets, Nimnul had modified it to use gunpowder. While he had cut down the size it was still bulky, and in his shrew hands it looked huge. Laurel on the other hand was armed with a scope-fitted crossbow and plenty of steel-tipped arrows.
"Take her," said Laurel to Foxglove. "We'll deal with Fat Cat."
"Hmm... if I were Fat Cat, where would I be?" mused Nimnul. After a moment he added "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."
As predicted, Fat Cat was in the cell block with Mulder, herding the shackled Rangers out. "Faster, you vermin, faster!"
Nimnul stepped into their path. "That's my pet name for them, Fat Cat, not yours."
Fat Cat fired wildly, but Nimnul had already dashed back into the room he had come from. "What are you talking about?" he cried.
Off to one side of the door, Laurel was crouched down looking through the scope on her crossbow waiting for Fat Cat to move into just the right position to get a shot off into his shoulder.
Nimnul reached around and fired a few rounds to keep Fat Cat where he wanted him. One thing he'd underestimated was how powerful gunpowder was on a rodent scale and Laurel could see him having difficulty staying on his feet while firing.
"Come now, surely you didn't think I wouldn't anticipate your every move? You're trying to convert the Rangers into reinforcements. Well, it won't work!"
"Won't it? We're evenly matched, and this narrow corridor eliminates the unfair advantage of your bat! Or have you forgotten the fate of your pal with the unpronounceable name?"
Fat Cat walked into the doorway, giving Laurel her opportunity. He quickly found a crossbow bolt in his shoulder and fell to his knees, where he was immediately swarmed by the Rangers, who used their weight to hold him down.
"The name is Lahwhinie. La. Why. Knee. Is that pronounceable enough for you, or do you need me to diagram it?" shouted Laurel.
"Mulder!" Fat Cat screamed.
"Ah, thanks for reminding me," said Nimnul, walking around the prone cat and into the hallway. The sounds of gunfire being exchanged could be heard, followed by silence.
After a few suspenseful seconds, Nimnul nonchalantly turned the corner with the ring of keys in his hand.
"I'm surrounded by idiots!"
"Perhaps you should try a better employment agency."
Suddenly the whole building shook, and an electronic screech tore through the air.
"Did I remember to warn Foxglove not under any circumstances to knock over the Displacer?" asked Nimnul.
"No, you didn't." replied Laurel
"I was afraid of that."
He handed the keys to Chip, who had already been freed, then dashed down the hallway.
Laurel quickly ran up to Fat Cat's face and thumped him between the eyes. They cat's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor, out cold. Without wasting time to admire her handiwork, Laurel took off after Nimnul.
The lab looked like the site of at least five industrial accidents. Green and blue fires were raging in opposite corners, and a small flying machine was circling the high ceiling under its own power. The far half of the lab was obscured by a thick wall of a heavy greenish gas that hugged the floor. The cause of all this mayhem was the struggle between Foxglove and Winifred. Foxglove was desperately trying to get to get Winifred off the ground, and Winifred was just as desperately trying to get Foxglove down to the ground. As Nimnul and Laurel were taking all this in, a wild swing of a wing knocked over a lit Bunsen burner, igniting an experimental firecracker that launched up into the tiny plane, which crashed down into the obscuring gas.
Despite all this, Nimnul and Laurel's attention sought out one thing only, and the crash moved enough of the gas for them to spot the fallen Displacer, which was vibrating ominously.
Nimnul ran straight for it, but was soon forced to retreat until he had found a portable breathing apparatus.
He tore open a panel of the device, trying to dampen the vibrations with his rotundity until he could find the necessary circuits. Meanwhile the volume and pitch of the sound it emmitted continued to increase.
"It's no use!" he cried through the mouthpiece of the breathing apparatus. "The circuits are fused-there's no way I can drain off the excess energy!"
"Well, time's short and I've got an idea, might as well try it." Laurel ran for the Displacer through the gas, without a breathing mask. "Get clear!" she shouted before slamming into the activation button.
Foxglove heard the warning, released her grip and shot upward. Winifred turned her head just in time to see the device activate. She fell back against the wall, then after a moment shook herself and stood up, a zombie. Seconds later, Laurel passed out.
"Are you alright?" asked a voice.
Laurel wondered how she managed to end up on the floor.
"I think so," replied Laurel as she lifted herself up on her elbows to see Nimnul standing over her.
Obviously several minutes had elapsed since hitting the button on the Displacer, given the gas had dissipated and the fires had gone out. At the sound of her voice, Foxglove and the Rangers joined Nimnul at her side.
"Congratulations on managing to discharge the Displacer," Nimnul told her. "You are now an honorary mad scientist."
"Mad scientist, me? I don't think so. Spanner in the works, perhaps."
"Wait a second," she added, as her vision cleared. "You're all here? Did I remember to tell somebody to keep an eye on Fat Cat?"
"No, you didn't," said Fat Cat from the doorway. He and Mulder were both sporting bandages on their heads and were armed to the teeth.
The group in the lab slowly stood up. Zombie Winifred wandered aimlessly.
Fat Cat and Mulder slowly made their way around the lab, their weapons and eyes fixed on the Rangers, until they had reached the Displacer.
"What have you done to it?" said Fat Cat, turning to examine the device.
"It's repairable," explained Nimnul. "All you need are a couple diodes, some solder..."
"That's it, I have had enough!" the cat exclaimed. "Mulder, eliminate them, now!"
The fox turned with a confused look on his face. "They're nine of them, Boss. It's not like I can take them all out at once. Should I start with the fly, because he's more prone to escape, or that cheese mouse, because he's the strongest, or maybe the bat, because she's the most predictable, or..."
Fat Cat screamed. "You imbecile, you nitwit, you moron! Take them out! I don't care how, just do it. Follow an order! Just... follow... an... order! Is that so hard?"
"I can't help noticing that you have a bit of an employee relations problem, Fat Cat," Gadget observed. "Considering that this one isn't even a zombie, what do you think the world will be like if you manage to use the Displacer on everybody?"
Mulder finally fired, seemingly at Laurel, however the crossbow bolt bounced off the floor, the wall, and lodged itself in a box above Fat Cat, which began to perilously tilt on its shelf.
At the same time, Winifred served to reinforce Gadget's point by accidentally bumping into Fat Cat. He angrily shoved her to the ground. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! And as for you, Mulder, you're fired!"
"Actually, I'm going to turn in my resignation. As of right now, I quit!"
With Mulder's last word, the box fell.
The repairs to the Displacer were actually a bit more complicated than Nimnul had told Fat Cat. Instead of five minutes, it was closer to five hours.
"You're cutting this awfully close," warned Laurel, consulting a wall clock.
"I have to make sure the machine works flawlessly. I can't have this thing break down on me before the Rangers get all the zombies and their minds reunited."
"Your counterpart will be on this world, remember? He should be able to handle anything that comes up."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Nimnul mumbled under his breath.
"What was that, Nimnul?"
"He'll be fine, I'm sure."
"Well actually," interrupted Gadget, looking over his shoulder, "this device looks rather simple. Once I get a good look at it, I should be able to come up with all kinds of improvements."
"On second thought, that's definitely what I'm afraid of."
"Exactly," agreed Laurel. "Once we reverse what Fat Cat did, we don't want it getting pulled off again."
Nimnul sighed. "Agreed."
"Gadget, how have the Rangers managed as far as getting all the zombies grouped together in the testing room?" asked Laurel.
"Oh, we're all ready. That's why I came in here to get you."
Nimnul picked up the wired remote control for the Displacer and glanced at the clock.
"We've got five minutes, so let's make this quick."
The three of them walked through the back door of the lab in to the testing room, where the zombies were clustered together. The Rangers, posted around the sides of the room, were periodically ordering the zombies back into the centre as they would forget what they were supposed to do.
At Gadget's signal, they dashed around the zombies to join herself, Nimnul and Laurel.
"The worst that will happen if any of us non-zombies look at it is a bad headache. Still, I wouldn't advise it." Pulling a pair of welder's goggles over his eyes, he pushed the single button on the remote, causing a light to flood out from the distribution lens of the Integrator - as the modified Displacer was now called.
The zombies all changed the direction of their shuffling to head towards the lens in the floor, putting their hands in the beam of light that emerged.
"How long is this supposed to take?" asked Chip.
"That depends on how far their minds have wandered in Limbo," Laurel replied.
Just then, Winifred turned away from the light and stumbled towards the Rangers, both hands over her eyes. "What happened?" she asked.
"Your machine. That's what happened."
Foxglove gleefully stepped forward and slapped a pair of handcuffs over her wrists. "Just settling unfinished business."
Laurel and Nimnul looked at the clock to see that their time was up.
"Aw, and I wanted to see what Fat Cat's goons would do to him once they had recovered!" complained Nimnul.
He walked over to the window in the corridor and opened it to get a look around.
"You know, this world isn't that bad once you get used to it. There's a lot of potential here, a lot of room to make a real difference." He stared out at the blasted and overgrown landscape in thought. "Laurel, have you considered you and me just staying here for the rest of our lives? I wouldn't be at all surprised if our counterparts like it better where they are now to returning here."
Laurel stared coldly at him without saying a word.
"No, I suppose not. Paying for my crimes and so on. Very well. I guess I've gotten my fill of the consequences of acting without thinking of the long term."
"Well, it's nearly time for us to go. Make sure you destroy the machine once those dolts get their minds back."
Chip nodded. "Will do."
"Good lu-" Nimnul started, before his and Lahwhinie's bodies suddenly collapsed.
Earth-A
After a few seconds of disorientation as her mind switched back to using the senses for her home world, Laurel blinked a couple of times. Beside her, while waiting for her vision to clear up, she'd heard Nimnul stand up and sit down again.
Looking around Laurel counted thirteen men pointing guns at Nimnul's head and noticed Nimnul rubbing a scar on his head. Presumably, his counterpart had been persuaded to have surgery while they'd been away.
"Do you really think he's that much of a threat?" Laurel asked the guards. "I think he's learnt his lesson."
A bear of a man Laurel recognised as Assistant Director Klaudaine of The Company from Nimnul's laser demonstration a few months back turned his attention to Nimnul.
"Have you?" he asked him.
Nimnul gulped and stared wide-eyed at the men with guns.
Laurel sighed a bit, waiting for the obvious to penetrate the thick heads typical of government agents the world over. A good ten seconds passed before the order to stand down was given. With that settled, she finally had time to notice Nimnul's actions of the last few minutes.
"Considering what he did this afternoon, I'm surprised he was scared," she said.
"I was provoked," explained Nimnul, sheepishly. "Now, my thanks to whichever brilliant neurosurgeon re-attached the nerves responsible for regaining the ability to walk, but..."
Laurel made a mental note to ask Nimnul about the claim to have been provoked.
"Actually, we didn't," said Francine. "Dr. Russell fixed the brain damage that was making you increasingly erratic since the Battle of Clavius. That your paralysis was cured as a side-effect was a complete surprise."
If the brain damage was only making him erratic, then he shouldn't have been paralysed, unless...
"Oh, this is brilliant!" exclaimed Laurel with a laugh. "He was never really paralysed in the first place, he just induced a reverse placebo effect on himself! You must feel quite the fool now, Nimnul! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
Laurel took a good minute to recompose herself. She hadn't laughed that hard in years.
Nimnul tried to summon a good glare, but he failed and just sighed. "As I was saying, thanks for the fix, but now what's going to happen to me?"
"We had a good deal of discussion of that," said Assistant Director Klaudaine. "Some of us were perfectly willing to let the Rescue Rangers take him back to their world, but rational minds prevailed."
"I should hope so!" exclaimed Laurel. "Prophecy or no prophecy, I don't trust him not to revert to his usual imbecilic behaviour if left alone on his original world."
"Agreed. In addition, this planet is still vulnerable to alien attack, and Nimnul, you have been the best defender this planet has ever had. We will now do you the favour of swapping your two titles. You will now be Norton II, Emperor of the Moon and Protector of Earth, although the former title will be largely ceremonial. The astronomical observatory on the far side of the Moon has been expanded into your palace. Mr. Kano here will be our liaison."
Nimnul's mouth hung open, stunned. Laurel's guess was that it was probably because Nimnul had been expecting to be thrown in jail. Then again, the fact that David's bio-morph disguise was working again was probably also a contributing factor. With David involved again, guessing where events were headed was fairly straightforward.
Laurel spoke up. "I'd like to join David on the Moon, if you'll have me."
Klaudaine nodded his assent. "Professor, we will provide you with the means to explore and invent to your heart's content between invasions. We also expect that you will be able to come up with a truly-useful alien detector."
Nimnul's expression remained unchanged. Laurel's face took on a smirk. "Anybody home, Professor?" she asked, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Uh-huh," replied Nimnul slowly.
For a minute, Laurel just sat there watching David input the coordinates for Earth-R into the Dimensional Controller and occasionally glancing at the stunned Nimnul to her side. Shortly after Nimnul's mind caught up with what he'd been landed with, and started responding again, David had Laurel and Nimnul move so that Francine could be switched with Winifred from Earth-R.
As she got up, Laurel caught the tail end of a conversation between Francine and Carolyn.
"And between the two of us, this planet is about to become very uncomfortable," finished Francine.
"Uncomfortable?" asked Laurel, turning around. "It seems to me this world is better off now than it has ever been in human memory."
"Ah, that's the key word there: human memory. We humans have been exploiting the animals of this planet for thousands of years. I'm not sure if you noticed, but the 'gift of gab' the people of Earth so graciously bestowed on the Rescue Rangers didn't stop with them. For the first time, animals have the ability to demand the rights they deserve as sentient beings. Will the humans give it to them? Perhaps, and perhaps they need a persuader, someone with first-hand experience of working with animals both feral and sentient."
"Winifred Cadwallader?" asked Carolyn. "Good choice."
"Yes. She shall use my fortune to avert a possible 'War of the Species', while I get a vacation."
Chip, standing on a nearby table, looked up at Francine. "We should keep in touch," he said, cautiously. From the sounds of it, Chip didn't trust Francine, even if Laurel did.
"I put myself in your hands, Hero," she replied in a tone half conciliatory and half challenging.
"The Switcher is ready," David announced.
Gadget bowed. "You first, Mrs. Nulton."
Francine smirked, reaching her hand out towards the pulsating wall of the Switcher. "Mrs. Nulton is so formal. Just call me..." And she fell unconscious.
While Winifred recovered from her switch, Laurel started giving herself a check. Minor scrapes on the fingers and a mild solder burn. Lahwhinie must have been busy while she was here. Checking her bio-morph disguise, she noticed that it was not only still functional, but the screen didn't keep flickering while it was on. Around the edges, she found some signs of it having been opened. Either Lahwhinie or, more probably, Gadget, given her world had the more recent technology base, must have managed some degree of repairs while she'd been gone.
Checking her pockets, she found a note. The handwriting looked very similar to her own, but a quick glance at the bottom revealed it to be signed by Lahwhinie.
The note began with several crossed-out ways of addressing the recipient, before finally settling on simply her name followed by a colon, much like how Laurel herself had opened her note to Lahwhinie.
Laurel:
I hope you were successful in improving "your" Nimnul's behaviour during your brief exile to my world (Francine told me the whole story about him, hence the quotes). I took the opportunity to study some of your world's technology while Nimnul was in the hospital. I think it should help give us a boost in rebuilding our world's technology base. I'll start writing down what I can remember as soon as I get back.
About the device on your wrist: it malfunctioned and lost power on me at one point. I can see why Francine says you act paranoid. If I had to worry about looking the way you do when that device gets shut off, I'd be paranoid, too. Anyway, I got it running again and Gadget managed to fix it as best she could. The reverse process still doesn't work, so you're stuck with the choice of human or... I have no idea what to call what you turn into when the power goes out. Anyway, it won't cut out randomly any more and the new battery should last about three years.
I'm not sure what happened with David's device. Gadget didn't fix it, so I can only assume he did and didn't tell me. You'll have to ask him for the details.
Chip doesn't seem to trust me, but I don't think it's anything to do with you. He only started acting distrustful after I gave my name. My guess is he had a bad experience with his world's Lahwhinie, so don't be too surprised if he starts acting hostile towards you.
I'd better wrap this up, given Nimnul has already finished his note (which from the sounds of his rehearsal, isn't very flattering) and is looking impatient to get back home and put all those books he read in the hospital to use.
Good luck,
Lahwhinie.
P.S. No need to worry about your secret appearance getting out. I insisted that Gadget keep the disguise powered the whole time she was fixing it.
Laurel re-read the note a few times, then headed over to Nimnul and asked him what his counterpart had to say.
"Suffice it to say, my counterpart has a rather colourful vocabulary and a low opinion of me," replied Nimnul.
"Considering what he's been doing for his world, can you blame him?"
"No, I suppose not. Maybe once he's filled in on what we did, he might change his mind. In any case, I'm sure all the science books he read while in the hospital will go a long way towards rebuilding his world's technology base."
"Couple that with Lahwhinie's study of actual devices, and I think that's a given."
"You know, in retrospect, I have been wondering why I didn't try switching with a world like the one you took me to instead of this one in the first place. That world was actually good in its own way."
"It wasn't the first world I examined as a possible place to send you. The first one was so alien it actually scared me. The human eye just cannot make sense out of that place. Whatever senses our counterparts have there, they're nothing like what we know right now."
"We should look into that world once things settle down again."
"Oh, I don't know. I think I'd rather try and find my counterpart who helped me out in limbo. Her world is one of a small cluster of about a hundred similar ones with magic and medieval technology."
"Would magic even work here?" asked Nimnul.
Laurel looked over at the now recovered Winifred who had been switched with Francine while she was talking. Winifred managed a spark of magic.
"Yeah, I think it does. That could be a research project for you, eh, Professor?"
Nimnul's face took on a thoughtful look. Laurel turned her attention a bit more towards the conversation around her.
"Don't hesitate to call us if he starts acting up again," said Chip. "Or she, for that matter."
Laurel could tell the emphasis on the word "she" was directed at her and headed over to the chipmunk.
"Hey, Chip?" asked Laurel calmly. "I think you need to work on your snap judgements. I have done more than enough to justify which side I'm on."
Leaving Chip with a poke in the chest to make her point, Laurel headed back over to Nimnul to watch the Rangers switch back to their universe. After some goodbyes to Carolyn and Honker, the Rangers gave their famous cry and slapped their hands against the switcher and collapsed to the ground while their counterparts from this world adjusted back to their home.
For some reason, Laurel couldn't help but think of the ancient Chinese curse "May you live in interesting times."
"Some may see interesting times as a curse," thought Laurel. "Personally, I think they're just what this world needs."
- End of story