somewhereintimeandspacept2

Part 2

From various bits and pieces of his double's diary, Joel managed to piece together a reasonable profile of his personality. A bit naive (which he was), he was constantly the butt of the bots' jokes (which he could be from time to time) and was a total technological dunce (which he was pretty sure he wasn't). At the same time he was quite book-smart, often capable of holding his own in a literary conversation with Tom. He also, from time to time, pulled one on the bots as well, although often with mixed results.

He also made it a point to read up about the Mads. Since he was going to be staying here for goodness knows how long, he might as well try and figure out what he was going to be up against. It was . . . interesting, to say the least. For a start, there was Pearl Forrester, who was Doctor Forrester's mother according to the diary. ('I wasn't even aware that he HAD a mother,' Joel thought off-handedly.) From what he could tell Pearl was what would happen if one were to combine Dr. Forrester with Roseanne, although considerably less grating.

Then there was the Observer or, as Pearl was reported to call him, Brain Guy. Omnipotent and intelligent, he seemed to only stay with Pearl for lack of anything better to do. That, plus his planet was one of the unfortunate ones his double had blown up. Joel winced a bit at that one.

Finally there was Bobo, who was "literally straight out of the Planet of the Apes." He was a scientist on his planet, though if what this universe's Joel had to say about him was correct it was a scary thought indeed. From what Joel could deduce, the ape managed to get off the planet based almost purely on luck. Apparently, he also tended to call Pearl "Lawgiver." ('A Forrester in charge... no wonder the apes were in such bad shape,' Joel snickered to himself.)

Still, he couldn't help but wonder who the man who came before him was. It was quite obvious that his counterpart held a certain degree of jealousy towards the guy; one of the comments made most frequently in the journal was how the bots still seemed attached to him in spite of everything they'd been through. Joel had a feeling he'd be sympathizing with him by the time this was all over.

He was having a hard time imagining the idea that somebody other than himself would have made the bots. Even after ten years, it was still the most vivid memory he had of his time on the Satellite, carefully putting together and activating the quartet one after another. That, plus that completely trusting look each had given him when he'd brought them to life...

He stopped that train of thought before he could get choked up about it. No sense having the bots on this Satellite wondering what was wrong with him.

With some reluctance he locked the journal and put it back in its place. After hiding the key again, he emerged from the room and headed back to the bridge. The bots were nowhere in sight; however, there did appear to be two pans full of water sitting one the counter, with a t-shirt in each one.

'Now why would they be soaking t-shir -- oh, for the love of...' Joel chuckled internally. 'Guess they're still the same bots no matter which dimension I'm in.' Ignoring the wet t-shirts, he walked up in front of the counter and looked at his surroundings.

'It's so strange -- it's the same Satellite, and yet it's not. Even the old console looks the same,' he thought, looking down at the familiar three button system which operated the door and the hexfield. He'd never entirely been sure what the yellow button had been for; jokingingly, he'd dubbed it the "Commercial sign" for use during the impromptu "show" he'd always done with the bots. (It did seem odd, however, that Cambot always seemed to stop recording when he pressed it, but he'd never really thought about it.)

A loud whirring noise suddenly caught Joel's attention, and he looked up. A round, modern-looking camera was looking down at him, cocked to one side as if trying to figure something out.

He raised his eyebrows. "Cambot?"

If it were possible for a camera to blink, it probably would've done so right there. Instead, it looked at him in an odd sort of confused way, as if to ask whether he was all right or not.

'Oh, right -- the diary mentioned something about Cambot's old casing breaking during the first guy's escape -- this must be the new design they gave him,' he deduced. With this in mind, he smiled at the small spherical bot.

"Hey, guy, what's up?" he asked, leaning forward...

. . . And absentmindedly putting his hands into the water-filled pans.

"D'oh!" He pulled his hands away quickly, but not quite quick enough. The two bots suddenly rushed in, looking peeved.

"Darn it, Joel, you interrupted our wet t-shirt contest!" Crow complained.

'I figured that's what it was,' he thought. Still, playing the role of the slightly slow thinker, he acted confused. "Wet t-shirt contest?"

"Yeah! You know, the favorite form of entertainment in Florida, Southern California, and parts of Wisconsin!" Tom explained.

"I... see. So who won?" Joel asked.

Crow preened proudly. "I did! My waffle-net crew neck absorbed a full 1.35 liters of water!"

Tom scoffed. "Yeah, but my Hanes 'Beefy-T' absorbed faster and dripped less, so I think I won for speed."

"I don't see what the big deal about these things are, though. Seems kinda pointless." Crow frowned.

Joel blushed. "Um, well, I think you guys are kinda missing the point on what exactly a 'wet t-shirt contest' is..."

"Well, what IS it, then? Because I really think you can't get much closer to a proper 'wet t-shirt' than this..."

Joel blushed deeper. "Maybe we oughta, um, go to 'commercial sign' while I explain this..."

"Wow, Joel, you're really acting like the other guy!" commented Tom as Joel pushed the yellow button.

'Whoops -- stay frosty, Joel, stay frosty.' He shook off his embarrassment as much as possible and began to explain. "You see, the point of a wet t-shirt contest is, um..."

He paused. Cambot hadn't stopped recording yet.

"Uh, Joel? What's happening?" Tom asked, noticing the same.

Joel scratched his head. "Well gee, Cambot usually switches to commercial sign when I do that..."

"Well, try saying 'We'll be right back,' or something like that! Maybe it's some sort of verbal cue!" suggested Crow.

Joel doubted this; he'd only said that to lend to the air of a televised broadcast, not as any sort of activation method. Still, this WAS a different satellite... "Uh, sure. Folks, we'll be right back."

Nothing.

He picked up the control panel and frowned at it. "Maybe the wiring's a bit faulty..." he mused.

"Oh, and I suppose you're suddenly the big technical expert now, Mr. 'Fix-the-coffee-machine-with-Ho-Hos'," commented Tom dryly.

Joel sighed and mentally reminded himself of the role he was supposed to be playing. "Maybe if I try... this!" He whacked the button multiple times before the light finally went off.

"Nice display of expertise there," noted Tom.

Joel smiled grimly at Tom. 'Man, I hated to do that, but if I tried to fix it they'd get suspicious. Well, hopefully that'll be the only
problem we'll have.'

*****

It wasn't.

To Joel, it was almost like the Satellite had decided to give up the ghost all at once. Gypsy was rude, the doors refused to open on command, the camera was fuzzy, and the radio only played Yanni music. It was tearing Joel apart inside to know that the place was falling apart and he wasn't allowed to do a thing about it. What was worse, the Mads, who Joel had the displeasure of meeting not long after the first signs of malfunction began appearing, didn't seem to care at all. Not that this was any different from life with Dr. Forrester and Frank, but it didn't help matters much.

What hurt Joel the most, however, was that the bots just didn't seem to trust him around ANYTHING. It was if they were convinced he had a Midas touch for destruction, or something like that. As a result, the few times he had available between breaks in the experiment (which featured some bad Eighties film called Soultaker) were not used constructively. The best he could do was attempt to patch things up, and even then the bots watched him with a hawk's eye, discouraging him whenever it appeared he was taking on more than he normally would've been able to take care of.

Eventually, the only thing that seemed to even be holding them in orbit was some unidentified craft that was floating behind them. The thought that they were completely at the mercy of some unknown being disturbed him, and he finally decided that keeping up the charade of total incompetance wasn't worth risking lives for.

So, while the bots were in a complete panic over the desperation of their situation, Joel was in a mad rush to make up for lost time, fixing whatever he could. Without the right parts, however, Joel was well aware that it was essentially a lost cause.

It surprised him, therefore, to head back to the bridge only to find the bots engaged in a conversation with someone he'd never met before.

The man the bots were talking so amiably with was tall yet stocky, with short dark blond hair and a generally down-to-Earth disposition (pardoning the pun, of course). He also had a large tool kit on hand. The trio appeared to be catching up on old times.

Joel blinked. "Hey guys, who've we got here?"

Crow turned towards Joel with a bright sparkle in his eyes. "Joel, it's Mike! He's the guy that built us!"

****************

Author's Notes:

Special thanks goes to the nice folks who transcribed Soultaker at Satellite News -- namely, Chris Franzino and Craig Cash. It's kind of an unofficial thanks, but if you guys ever read this, well... cheers! Thanks also to Stephanie Watson for proof-reading, not to mention all those wonderful fics which helped me figure out where I'm going in this one. Thanks!

You may notice I skimmed on the details for the episode. That's because for the main point of the story, they're superfluous. You'll see what I mean soon enough. ^_^

And folks, writers block is a SCARY thing. >_<