Doc Sherwood
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Christmas Eve, Chapter Three
Joe, Neetra and Bret were hastily summoned, and the three members of the Next Four regrouped with the three members of The Four Heroes at the gates to Nottingham Castle. Above them stretched the steep hillside, and atop the cliff’s edge, before a sky of deepest blue in which the first stars were coming out, loomed the fluctuating sphere of luminescence now swelled to gigantic size. All of the great mansion-house was lost in within its radiant ever-changing depths, and still it widened with each minute that passed. It was well on the way to becoming the most spectacular set of illuminations in Nottingham that evening, but the sight of it brought our heroes little Christmas cheer.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Tears Such as Angels Weep, Chapter One
Soon Neetra was gone from the material world too. Leaving her corporeal body asleep in Joe’s arms, our heroine slid onto the astral plane and parted from the group at the castle gate, to soar up the hillside and plunge into the expanding ball of temporo-psionic flux. Locating Steam’s presence gave Neetra no difficulties, and on entering it she found herself engulfed in the whirlwind of thoughts common on the periphery of a consciousness. Speeding by her, flashing and merging and blending were snippets of herself, Steam, The Four Heroes, the Next Four and numerous others, including the dark-browed winged girl Neetra had identified as her friend Carrie. However, she knew these fleeting recollections and impressions were no more than the remotest distant satellites of Steam’s true psyche, and when she searched for that, she found it disturbingly absent. She would never have known it was Steam’s mind she was in, so far from her he was. He had ventured deep, deep down into this stygian pit of time and memory.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Christmas Eve, Chapter One
Nottingham had seen many Christmases, from the snow-swirling first one soon after its creation when he who had tyrannically opposed The Four Heroes and their city met his defeat at last, to the bleak and rainy Christmas of the Martian occupation which the townsfolk had celebrated in subterranean caves hiding out from General Banthal’s patrols. Christmas Eve this year was one of dazzling sunshine streaming from a cloudless blue sky, bringing no heat to dispel the crisp frostiness that tingled on faces, fingers and toes, but setting a-sparkle the snow that lay thickly on the streets. Through the gleaming drifts, the chilly air and the golden beams, all the human-and-otherwise populace of Nottingham tramped and laughed and bustled. It was a vast and glorious jostling mass of people, living life in the safe-haven city for mankind as it was supposed to be lived, walking and shopping and eating and drinking and wishing Season’s Greetings to each other with their breath making white clouds that danced on the air before them.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Thunderous, Chapter Two
Joe's crimson-coloured interplanetary hot-rod was back at the drive-in that night, this time bringing with it Flashtease and Petunia who proceeded to make for themselves a little hollow of familiarity in the square seat-space. Popcorn was never a complete experience without Petunia’s perfume like hot peanut-butter melting on its sweet sticky smell, stuffying-up the nostrils with contentment. Supersized soft drinks were almost too wide to squeeze your fingers round, ice-cubes knocking in the heavy sloshing bag of cool, but once you’d fumbled the straw to your questing pout it started with a slurp and ended in a fizzy explosion blowing your senses out from within. The seats were slid down to full recline, skirts and underskirts were balled up in the small of each respective wearer’s back, and it was a mercy not to have to resettle your pants unless you wanted to. Flashtease felt just fine and Petunia did too, really, though from her restless flittering flounce fanned occasional little disturbances in the happy popcorn-miasma. It was probably going to turn out alright. Two matching pairs of feet in white ankle-socks which bore testament to a day’s wear sat propped-up on the windshield-rim, and beyond these toes the cinema-screen was a monolith of light soaring high into realms of blue.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Thunderous, Chapter Three
Faithfully Flashthunder followed Cherry’s dark-matter glint, into the unknown, for by now they were speeding through stars he did not recognise. Was this uncharted cosmos, maybe even beyond the borders of the galaxy itself? Time and space and the essence of the universe were streaming past in illusory forms which Flashthunder could comprehend only as kaleidoscopic chaos. Cherry didn’t shout about her own psychic powers, but it was clear enough they were considerable. She could probably cope with this. Flashthunder was glad Cherry had so much faith in his ability to do the same.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Thunderous, Chapter Four
Candlelight and heaps of plenty had transformed Joe’s usual space-lounge into what looked to him at least like a Harvest Festival. Hamburgers of every shape and size were piled on platters atop each table, and in and out of the friendly flames his circle of supporters moved busily to their first encounters with sliced cheese and tomato ketchup and the like. Joe suspected he had overdone it, but everyone looked happy. Maybe this was some kind of consolation for his having no message from Neetra to share with them instead. Joe gazed out on those who had put their faith in him and his cause, and mustered a small sad smile.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Thunderous, Chapter One
On a flat-topped mountain overlooking a gulley which served as an outer space drive-in cinema sat Joe, an hour or so subsequent to Flashshadow’s mysterious interview with Flashthunder. Joe had frequently been to this spot before, as it was his preferred vantage-point for surveying the galactic newsreels by night, but this evening’s feature presentation was not set to begin until later. The rocky ravine far below was bereft of twin-seat spacecraft, and the towering holo-screen which closed off its far end was dull and blank in the asteroid’s perpetual deep blue night. Where motion and action were the accustomed state, all at present was lifeless, but for the turmoil reigning within our hero’s breast.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Origin, Chapter One
The Four Heroes and the Next Four stared aghast as one, staggered by the scene that had presented itself to them. A straightforward mission to retrieve the severed head of one of Dimension Borg’s robots from six old enemies had spiralled irretrievably out of control, upon the sudden appearance of a horde of warlike and strangely familiar rock-men apparently under the command of a girl identical to Phoenix Neetkins, who called herself Phoenix Prime. Now, as an inferno continued to blaze throughout the ravaged warehouse interior, as the robot’s domed head looked silently on from its pillar of technical apparatus in the centre of the floor, and as the stony soldiers poised for the advance, Phoenix Prime issued her order from her vantage point far above the others’ heads.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
The Heroes, the Pirate and the Head, Chapter Three
Joe and Neetra had found a quiet corner of the castle grounds where a low stone wall bordered the very edge of the cliff, beyond which the sunlit city could be seen stretching in every direction. Neetra was standing by the wall gazing thoughtfully into the distance, while Joe was sitting on a bench nearby.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
The Heroes, the Pirate and the Head, Chapter Four
The great arched window of Nottingham Castle’s banqueting hall looked out upon a magnificent night-time vista, where the million city lights that had begun to burn again shone into infinity against the darkness. Within, the capacious room was deserted and mostly in shadow, but for the glow of a few tall candles that stood on the one table that was in use. Their flickering flames danced from the wine bottle and glasses and reflected from the chinaware, which bore the remains of a sumptuous dinner. Above them, all alone, Joe and Gala sat facing each other.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
