Sorry for the waiting with this chapter. But it is extra long, and I can also promise that next chapter the character will run into a sociopath and a blue box... ;)

I continued walking around the convention, looking a little half-interested at some failed technology.
Well... at least I thought it was technology and not someone's half-eaten sandwich.
Because seriously, you could almost not tell the difference with some 'biological circuits'.

Hm... a new game maybe. 'Biological-circuit-or-lunch'. I have to play it later this week.

Even though all these thoughts rushed back and forward in my head, there was one thing I couldn't let go.
The Dream Contraption.

I could not stop thinking about the possibilities that existed if this thingy actually worked.
All the places I could go to.
All the heroes I could meet.
All the characters I could meet.

This is insane.

Even if that piece of junk by Mr. Little nut-head WOULD work, there would be billions and enormous figures only with the possibility
that I would meet exactly those I wanted to in that world.

Let's just say Doctor Who. They travel through the entire time and space, so why would I by any chance meet the Doctor even
if I was in the same universe as he is.

But still, what if I did see the T.A.R.D.I.S. and him. It would be worth leaving this world and rely on some metal crap to reach it
would be nothing compared with what I could gain.

I took the book out of my bag, just to see what it actually said in there.
You know.
Only because of that.
*cough*

"The Journeys of Peter Shangry" one chapter was named. "Huh, cute" I said, maybe a little too loud because people started staring at me
like I was some kind of biological circuit that actually worked and that it was more weird than positive. So I just moved in to a darker
and empty corner.

I began reading the chapter of which name I just said out loud.

"One of the first things I noticed during my travels, was that you often became the parallel world's version of yourself.
But sometimes you wouldn't exist in the world you were traveling to, so you sort of just travels like it was an ordinary trip without meeting
anyone who you are a father to or suddenly to realize that you have seven children and that you actually died in world war VI and scared the crap
out of your entire family by showing up at a supermarket nearby. You kind of don't have to do that if you don't exist. But despite all this,
many of my dreams have come true, like a fairy tale I have drifted among the stars and climbed to the highest top of my mountain of expectations
and not for once I have fallen down. Therefor the name. A machine that makes dreams. A Dream Contraption."

Wow. Even if he lost me not even half the way through just one sentence, this really sounded like something that actually had happened.

As I read more and more and more of the book, I was almost convinced that the Dream Contraption actually worked.

I was completely stunned.

And I know that it must be the book that did it, because these guys' phasers would not stun anyone in a million years.

"I must be tired. That's all" I told myself. Because believing in what I just read would not make any sense. I could if so change my life.
Be the person I maybe is in another world. Something more.

And maybe something less, a voice in the back of my head said, but currently I just wanted it to shut up and go back to what it came from.

Still...the little nut-head's machine CAN'T work. It must be impossible.

But what if it does work? Then I could travel to all sorts of places!

Seriously, now. It is time to drop the book and head back to the hotel to get some serious sleep.

But I couldn't sleep. I couldn't let go of the thought of it.
I was started to grow an idea.
And then I was growing more energetic.
I was growing more restless.
I was growing more impatient.
I was growing more crazy.
I was crazy.
Crazy is not an emotion or a state of mind.
Crazy is me not letting go of this thought.

Argh, I knew it had to come to this. What's the clock? A measurement of time. And the time was 2:30 am.

Nothing good happens after 2:00 am.

And this idea.
It was far from good.

If good was a planet, this idea or plan was the black hole across the entire universe sucking everything, including time and light, into it.

Plan Black Hole it was.

And the plan?
Huh, I was going to steal the Dream Contraption.

Now... planning.
I have seen enough movies to know that days or even weeks of planning is needed to pull off this sort of thing.
Sure, high security was nothing I was bothered about since I don't even think the personnel at this convention takes it seriously.
But I expected that those who actually displayed their artifacts of weirdness wanted some security because they pay for showing their stuff here.

"Yet, how shalleth I find out how thee stuff is protecteth?" I said in my most posh Shakespearean voice that I get
either from the clock being 2:00 am or a couple of pints.

"Maybe you can Google a map of the exhibition building and there after find out any secret or hidden rooms where they keep it" A brilliant voice somewhere
in my head said.

At four o'clock AM, when I finally got the courage to deliver the sad news to myself that I am a terrible googler and a terrible burglar, I had come to
the desperate thought of just calling and ask.
And so I did.
And so they also did tell me that all the 'scientists and inventors' are responsible for their own inventions and their inventions securities.
And so they also told me that a certain Mr. Peter Shangry lived at the same hotel and even on the same floor as I did.
And so I hung up the phone and so I also banged my head a number of 16 times against the wall giving myself a rather unpleasant gift of a severe headache
and a black-out.

The sleep, even though it was brutally forced, was very satisfying.
I managed to pull myself up from where I was lying and the mark I found on my forehead when I accidently faced a mirror,
was the direct opposite of very satisfying.
It was a nice blue-purple contrast against my red hair, which made it stick out even more. FAN-tastic.

Realizing that in merely an hour the second day of the convention would start and I had to go get some breakfast before that, was part of
this wonderful, refreshing morning.

Take my keys. Take my bag. Tie my shoes. Re-button my shirt. Huh, with the trouble I had with these god-forbid-that-they-even-let-these-be-this-small-buttons
I laughed at the thought about that I actually though about breaking in and steal.

This thought was still amusing when I was on my way out of my room and had just finished locking the door.

"Ohh, maaan! How could I?!" I thought over and over.

Then I turned around by the noise of someone coughing just behind me.

I saw a little, middle-aged man handing me something that was wrapped in a brownish bit of cloth. Little Nut-head?

"Would you... would you mind holding this for me for just a sec? I forgot a couple of things in my room and this is pretty heavy to run with" Peter Shangry said a
little like he was in a hurry. He didn't even wait for me to answer, he just gave the thing to me and ran down the corridor.

The next thing I did, I'm not proud of. Not proud of at all. But I do not regret it for one moment.

I ran down the opposite direction of the hall, towards the elevators and screamed "LOOOKIII'D!" with the Dream Contraption in my arms.

When in the elevator, I dialed a number I had memorized from calling so many times.

"Hello, this is Stanstead airport, how can I help you?" A woman's voice said.

"Hi" I answered while I was catching my breath and laughed frenetically. "I'd like to book one seat on the next plane to Cardiff."

I told her all the details she needed to know, while jumping into a taxi someone for 2 seconds had left.

"Is everything OK?" The airport-woman asked when I forgot to answer something she'd said.

"Oh, yes. Perfect. I'm just in a hurry. Because I'm going to find the Doctor."

Stay tuned for the next chapter!