Vaulting Ambition
“Conan the Barbarian’s on if you want to watch that,” Chris Johnson told his wife, Sophie, as he flicked through the list of films available on Webmedia.
Sophie scrutinised the TV screen in front of her, frowning.
”I’m not so sure,” Sophie said. “A film featuring a murderer is not an appropriate way to celebrate our union, is it?”
Chris froze momentarily, his arm holding the remote stuck outright.
After a while, he sighed and relaxed his muscles.
”I s’pose not,” he said.
Chris sifted through more of the offerings available on Webmedia, paying attention to their subject matter.
A particular icon caught his eye.
It was for 2055: Race Against the Clock, a new sci-fi series about a bounty hunter who teams up with a Cornish pastry baker to arrest a sentient clock before it destroys the world.
“I’ve heard good things about this show, Soph,” Chris said.
”It’s not precisely screaming ‘romance’ out to me,” Sophie said.
”No, but we might still enjoy it,” Chris said.
Sophie glared at her husband for a moment before exhaling.
”Oh, alright,” she said. “It will be nice to see the beauty of the Cornish Coast.”
”That’s what I thought,” Chris said, pressing play on the TV.
Sure enough, the first shot of the pilot episode was the Atlantic Ocean crashing against the jagged cliffs of the dramatic North Cornish Coast.
”It appears they’ve used the landscape around Mousehole as a principal location,” Sophie said as she observed a lone man watching the sea. “I wonder if Bella saw any of the filming.”
The man watching the sea was Jago Chenoweth, a pastry chef from Tintagel.
He wore a T-shirt with a wolf painting on it, as the wolf was his favourite animal.
Jago’s session of quiet contemplation was cut short by a blinding red light appearing beside him.
He covered his squinting eyes with his hand, trying to see what was happening.
“Pretty good special effects, wouldn’t you say, Soph,” Chris said.
“Yes, they are rather commendable,” Sophie said.
On their TV screen, a rugged man clad in red, carrying a laser blaster, replaced the blinding red light.
The man was Andetox Gtin, a bounty hunter from the planet Genzaunus.
Although he resembled a human, Jago knew this man wasn’t from Earth.
”This seems somewhat similar to the Last Apprentice, doesn’t it?” Sophie said to Chris.
“Only in the sense that it’s about an alien visiting Earth and getting a human to perform a task,” Chris said, sipping his red wine. “Otherwise, they’re completely different.”
Sophie scowled at the screen as Andetox told Jago why he was there.
Alastor, a member of the sentient clock-like race chronoid from the planet Chronos, was due to be on trial on Genzaunus for maliciously changing the time on all the timepieces and confusing innocent Gazaunians. He had been released from detention on bail but had failed to appear for his court date.
Andetox had reason to suspect that he had teleported himself to Cornwall, and now he wants to track him down with Jago’s help.
”I can’t say I blame Alastor,” Chris said. “I’d probably head down to Cornwall if I was on the run from the law.”
”I’ll keep that in mind,” Sophie said, jotting down a note on her phone in case Chris broke the law and became a fugitive.
”Any questions?” Andetox said, staring at Jago, his eyebrows pointing downward towards his nose and his legs and arms akimbo.
Jago gawped at the bounty hunter and shrugged. “Not really. I’m more than happy to push emmets off my land.”
“I’d hazard a guess he’s in Truro somewhere,” Chris said as he sipped his wine.
Chris and Sophie canoodled as Andetox and Jago wandered through a local fair near Tintagel.
“Is there any real point in this sequence?” Sophie said as Jago won a toy crocodile on the coconut shy.
”Alastor could be hiding among the stalls,” Chris said. “They can’t leave any stone unturned.”
Sophie pursed her lips and tilted her head as she watched the TV. “We already know Alastor isn’t there, Chris. They still have nine episodes to fill.”
”Yeah, but they don’t know that, do they?” Chris said.
Sophie adjusted herself on the sofa. “I suppose so.”
Sure enough, Alastor was not at the fair, and his trial going ahead as planned still hung in the balance.
The two protagonists rushed through Tintagel, searching for Alastor in every shop.
The Chronoid was nowhere to be seen, but at least Andetox had got a new book from the local bookstore.
”I hope he’s going to go back and pay for it,” Sophie said, crossing her arms and frowning at the screen.
”They’ve got more important things to worry about than stealing a book, Soph,” Chris said.
Sophie stared at Chris wide-eyed, her mouth slackened. She turned her head away from him.
Outside a pub in Tintagel, Andetox knelt in front of a dog tied to a post.
”Hey there, bud,” Andetox said. “Can you talk?”
”He must be pretty thick if he thinks a dog can talk,” Sophie said, sipping her wine.
”Dogs might be able to talk on Genzaunus,” Chris said. “You never know.”
Sophie loured at the screen over the rim of her wine glass.
After discerning that dogs did not talk on Earth, Jago and Andetox went into the pub for lunch.
”At last, a bit of drama,” Sophie said as Jago spilt a cup of coffee all over the table he was sitting at with Andetox.
The drama only increased when, after wiping up the liquid splurged all over the table, Jago confined the bounty hunter that he knew was about to die.
”Of course, he’s dying of cancer,” Sophie said. “I mean, why wouldn’t he be dying of cancer?”
”Beats me,” Chris said.
He jolted momentarily, and his eyes inflated.
Chris had just realised that his manager, General Sir Gordon Ainsworth, ’s birthday was approaching. He had six days to fulfil his side of the work agreement and make a unique gift for him.
“A trip to the cinema might have been a better option,” Sophie said, grimacing at the screen.
”Mmm?” Chris said, snapping back into reality and clocking the woman in the room with him.
”It doesn’t matter,” Sophie said, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.
Chris gawped at the screen, entranced by Andetox and Jago’s Cornish escapades.
Sophie felt a rumbling in her pocket.
She whipped out her phone, but it was too late to answer the call from an unknown number.
Sophie placed the phone against her ear and listened to the voicemail.
”Hello, Sophie. It’s Janice,” the voicemail said as Sophie sighed. “I’m sorry about the confusion; I’ve got a new number.”
She focused on the TV screen, on which Andetox and Jago were trying to sniff out Alastor in a classroom for some reason, as she heard Janice’s message.
“I need my hair appointment on Tuesday, I’m afraid,” Janice said. “Is it possible to reschedule?”
Sophie reached for her wine in her other hand as she watched Andetox slap Jago for reasons she didn’t know, such as because she’d lost track of the plot ages ago.
”I’ve almost finished the first draft of my book, by the way,” Janice said in her seemingly never-ending voicemail. “You can read it if you want. Just call me, and I’ll send it over.”
Sophie absentmindedly reached for the nuts and ate a handful in one gulp as her eyes observed an alien bounty hunter and a Cornish pastry Chef examine a sneaker they’d found on a flight of stairs, and her right ear tuned into her client droning on about random things.
Eventually, the voicemail ended. Sophie slumped into the sofa as she placed the phone in her pocket.
She sighed heavily as she pressed her palms against her eyes.
”One of your clients, was it?” Chris said.
“Yes,” Sophie said. “Janice has to reschedule. I’ll get back to her.”
Sophie sat up in her seat and turned her full attention to the TV series she was watching.
Andetox and Jago’s mission brought them into a china shop in Truro, and one of the more expensive pieces was lying smashed on the floor.
”You broke it,” the little old lady who ran the shop said to the bounty hunter, scowling at him and seemingly unperturbed by his laser gun and strange attire.
”If they wanted to do a travelogue of Cornwall, they could have just done it,” Sophie said as Adentox and Jago ambled through Lemon Quay with their heads hung low. “There’s no need for the whole alien-bounty-hunter-searching-for-a-humanoid-clock-fugitive fiasco.”
Jago wondered whether there was anywhere the bounty hunter knew Alastor would likely visit in Cornwall. Adentox had no clue; he and the Chronoid only knew each other by sight.
But then Adentox stopped in his tracks. Jago traipsed in front of him and scrutinised the Genzaunian.
His eyebrows drew together, and he pursed his lips.
”You ok, sir?” The pastry chef said.
Andetox stared at Jago briefly.
“We need to go to London,” he said.
Jago’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened as the sting of the theme tune kicked in.
”Ah, yes, the obligatory trip to London,” Sophie said as the credits rolled. “Nothing surprising there.”
”What did you think of that, Soph?” Chris said. “Wasn’t bad, was it?”
”It was mildly decent for what it was,” Sophie said, finishing the dregs of her wine. “Besides, the natural beauty of Cornwall made up for everything else.”
”So, d’you want to keep watching,” Chris said.
Sophie stared at the ceiling momentarily and sank deep into the sofa.
After a while she said “yes, go on.”
And so Chris put on the next episode, and the Johnsons continued their binge-watching session deep into the night.
The Robinsonverse 