Disclaimer : "Coming up next: Ricky Ullman stars in Phil of the Future--a comedy ahead of it's time"--for Disney. Us? We get it now!
P.S., just in case you skipped the first four chapters and didn't get it, I still don't own Phil of the Future, but I'm willing to consider offers.
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The F-Word – Chapter Five – "'T' Minus Truth, and Counting"
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THREE YEARS from Tonight in 2121: Third anniversary already. Barbara, Lloyd and Pim sat around the gaming spheres not really playing. They were interested in sharing stories about the missing Diffy. Favorite memories came to the surface, and everyone smiled and chuckled good natured-like. Everyone had something good to say about Phil, even his sister, all of them wishing him happiness in a better place. A large pepper shaker adorned a place of love on the window sill. Lloyd placed his palms on his bride's tummy, just an outdated custom, really. The fetus was safely tucked away in it's natal pod, but this was the biological link representing the source of the new member of their family. Not a replacement for Phil, but a brother that Phil would never know. How could he? Phil had struck out on his own, but pathfinders recognize that a frontier has costs that it demands of the courageous.
THREE DAYS from Tonight in 2121: Limited by emergency lighting conditions, investigators poked about Turbine No. 29 of the Angeles-Frisco Megacity Energy Station 17A. Didn't really matter about the poor light levels -- there wasn't anything left to see and that was the only silver lining they'd likely get.
"Pl-please, Mick, pl-play back the security cams just before the event," politely requested Don. He didn't really want to watch this again – who'd want to watch it again, but it was the professional course to take, what was expected of an investigator, third-class, who'd wanted not to be replaced by an android.
Springing mid-air in front of them, the hologram of the teen with the tour group filled half the platform around the turbine. "Looks normal enough," commented Mick in his high falsetto voice, "but what's he wearing?"
"A pudding jacket. It's illegal for anyone but police or military to have it. How did a kid get his hands on one? The poor, foolish boy. What could have been going through his head? If we'd only been here ..." Don always took deaths of kids personally, or the deaths of parents because he knew that he'd be the one to face their children and have to find a way to make the small ones understand that Mommy and Daddy weren't ever coming home again. For this one, he'd have to face parents, maybe siblings. Calls like this one made him long for a promotion and a desk job. He'd do anything for that.
"Here he goes." They both watched as the brown-haired adolescent climbed over the metre-tall railing and did a header into the exposed generator core. The facility's auto-Wizrds tried snatching him out of the air, but the pudding jacket made that impossible, of course. Even with a cold fusion generator, it was still fifty thousand degrees Celsius and the magnetics fried him before he even got close to that. Nothing left after such a dive. Such a waste. Teen suicide had dropped to zero after Scared Smart, the self-grading act of 2040. With it, students took responsibility for their own educations, so the only pressures placed upon them were the ones that they inflicted upon themselves.
"Check the railing for DNA traces." Don did just that; what's more, he even scanned for old fashioned fingerprints, since there wasn't anything else to find.
"G-g-g-got something. DNAs been appears somewhat damaged from the EM flare, but it's a good enough match with the fingerprints. Positive I.D. Hey Mick, we got us a celebrity here. Diffy, Philip. One of those that got the 'Thanks to the Diffys Law' written. Me and Duh-duh-Daisy was g-g-going to backtrip to the height of the Inca Empire for our honeymoon. Then, the Diffys bolted it closed for everyone." P-t-tui! Don spit on the handrail, the last physical evidence of Phil Diffy's existence and defiance of the World Council's decree. Guys like Phil Diffy didn't care about anyone's love or happiness – only about having fun at the expense of others. Donald would make out his report, but he'd let an android do the dirty job of notifying the family. Don always made a point of doing that himself; he wanted to make it to second-class, after all, but these were the Diffys. Nobody would fault him for not going the extra kilometre for the selfish likes of them.
THREE HOURS from Tonight in 2121: "Home, sweet home," a dejected, exhausted Lloyd declared. Once, it had been his single-minded intent to one day return here; months ago, he'd even made the trip part way here with his family. Now, it just didn't feel like a homecoming. It felt like an internment. The indignity of it all; to be forced out of their home in the middle of the night to, to, to "this." No, it didn't feel like home. Just a house. No, a box. "Be it ever so humble," indeed. There was nothing "homey" about this sterile habitat.
Barb was the most depressed she had ever been. No one had ever seen her this way, always teary-eyed, on the verge of giving in to complete and utter collapse. Her throat constricted, rapid and shallow breathing, Lloyd tried to comfort his wife with a hug, but no matter how tightly he held her, she sank deeper into her depression. They were lepers here, one step above mass-murders and game show hosts. Hated and despised, oh they'd be shunned. Barbara couldn't shake the shame and embarrassment heaped upon her family. Going home was never suppose to be like this. Nothing could be worse than this future they had returned to. Nothing. She wanted to go home.
Phil was chipper! "Isn't it great to be home? Home, sweet home! Hey, Mom, want to go watch the new vids? Dad, do you want to play some laser squash? Bet I can beat you!"
"Phil, shut up," Pim quietly advised and nudged him. This was going to be hard. She really did care about her family, she admitted to herself, then forced herself to shrug it off. Remember, she reminded herself, Phil's a loss anyway. "Dad, put Mom to bed and I'll take care of Cheese Spread, here." Never taking his eyes off of his bride, Lloyd returned a silent nod, while Pim ushered Phil to his room. The door opened for them and Pim quickly slipped off the jacket Phil had been wearing, Wizrded up a tub filled with crushed ice and plunged it in. Brr-r! That was cold. There was another one that her brother owed her. Her plan was working perfectly. Only a few days of siblinghood remained and she'd finally be an only child. Her fantasy would be realized at last! Pim couldn't wipe away her own grin, but then, she didn't want to.
After my brother's death is announced, public sympathy will sway my way. "Gone will be the stigma of Diffy being a five letter word, and in will come the bribes to keep me from repeating my brother embarrassing gesture against the World Council's order restricting time travel. I'll be offered power to willingly stay in 2121. Almost a goddess, I'll be bought off with a built in Wizrd with cyber control and cybersprite, which I'll mold into Berwick. Finally, to be able to both order her around and get in the last word!"
Pim noticed Phil looking strangely at her and realized how much she had blurted aloud. "Never mind. Go to sleep, Numskull."
Grabbing Phil's auto-refilling mug (soon to be hers), she commanded, "Hot double Dutch chocolate with micro-marshmallows." The cup instantly filled. Staring out of a virtual window, Pim Diffy smiled. Yes, it's good to be back and very soon it would be very good, indeed.
THREE MINUTES from Tonight in 2121: From high in his soon-to-be office, he watched the CCC's Timeflyer slow and come to rest in the corporation's fenced-off compound. The rear of the transport lowered, reminiscent a 20th Century amphibious landing craft, only with heavy puffs of condensation from the air heating up as it was displaced by the returning vehicle. His greasy fingers drummed against the windowsill. Did they get them? Did they get them all? What will they say? Didn't matter. Nobody was going to believe them. The Diffys were going down and he was going to rise from their demise. Andy watched the collection team escort off the offenders one by one from the vehicle, busily briefing their younger selves on how the extraction went and what to expect. What an efficient system! If the mission had been a bust, then they just tell themselves not to go, thereby cutting expenditures. By returning just before they left, they could forewarn themselves of any serious problems and ensure mission success within acceptable parameters. Two of the CCC operatives were now being taken out of the Timeflyer by way of stretchers and the conscious one passing on intel to his undamaged past self. Phil must have put up quite a fight. Good. It'll just bury the Diffys deeper.
"Marty, wha' hoppen? Did the caveman clobber ya'? Or was it the boy?"
Marty shot back looks of complete pissed-offedness at his colleagues. It was the girl. They wouldn't be letting him forget this for a long, long time. Thank goodness for the conference before his earlier self goes on the collection. The pain in his body and the one in his rep would never occur. He'd be able to warn himself about, about ... ooh, the sedative was kicking in big time now ... where was he? What was he doing here and how did his foot get pointed backward? Oh, look there he was looking at himself. There was something he was going to tell himself. Something important. Oh well, it'd wait until morning. Nightie night.
Tim and Doug were chatting it up with their predecessors. "... pretty much, yeah. They were right where Baxley said they'd be, but the info that he gave about the targets was as wrong as wrong could be. The hominid was part pit bull, the parents were slipperier than greased pigs, the girl – DON'T EVEN start us on that hellion! The only easy part of the mission was the son. Fine kid, the boy was exceptionally compliant. Wish my kid was like that."
Doug piped in, "My report is going to say that while Baxley's info on the where and the when cannot be disputed, something is definitely fishy about his info on the who and the why. My suggestions will be to not pay out the reward, nor finalize his hiring. In fact, if justice is what anyone is looking for," Doug gestured toward the Diffys being lead into the headquarters, "I'd suggest tipping off the little girl on the identity of who sold out her family. It'll be worse than anything that'll happen to the snitch by way of a legal reprimand. What we did tonight is a cryin' shame. There's no way this family was doing any of the things that Baxley-boy accused them of. 'Infamous' Diffys, my Great Uncle Zeppo! They looked as though they had acclimated themselves to the last century almost completely. I'm going home. I feel like I need a dozen showers after what we did tonight. This entire assignment is completely fubar." Sigh. "Only bad things are going to come of it; mark my words."
THREE SECONDS from Tonight in 2121: Gotta keep the pudding jacket or this whole thing's just a pile of moldy gumdrops.
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Welcome to the WhiteRose6136 Community Center for the Acclimatization of Readers to Cliff Hangers. This chapter is turning out to be kinda long, as in possibly as lengthy as all the rest of the chapters combined, so expect more chapter(s).
The countdown continues: Next stop, back to present day Pickford.
MISSING PENGUIN
BTW, yes, there is a reward for an absent penguin. Let's call him "lost" so as to not cast any aspersions. I'm not looking for any names, I just want him returned for Chapter 6. Paper bag filled with small bills. (Pygmy Penguin, small bills, hee-hee-hee) No questions asked.
Please leave your thoughts.