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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3674606" data-attributes="member: 16069">Turn 3: Questions and Answers.“There seem to be a number of routes we can take, this place is a maze- what do you think Auntie?” The Professor tips his hat back with his walking cane.“Does it matter?”“I suppose not Auntie, let’s try this one.”The two wind their way down the chosen corridor, and round a corner. The Professor backs up suddenly, turns, traces his cane along the wall, and then taps it against the stone.“Another secret door, my word this place IS a maze, all we need now is a rat to run around it.” He laughs at his own joke, and then sets to finding the opening mechanism.Auntie rises to her full height, four feet six, in her stockinged slippers. She’s been thinking, you can tell-“I’ve been thinking. What were you… you know before the ‘end of the world’, malarkey?”“I was a Professor madam.”“Of what?”“Oh, a bit of this- a bit of that; Classics, History, Linguistics, Metaphysics, Physics, Biology, Quantum Mechanics… I dabbled.”“Sounds like a lot more than dabbling.”“And you Auntie, what were you before all of this?”Auntie looks confused.“I was an Auntie.” She states a little put out.“No formal employment?”Again the confused look from Auntie. “I AM an Auntie, it’s a full time job. I don’t have time for books and hobbies young man. I’m practical- feeding, cleaning, and listening- that’s my job; not made-up mumbo-jumbo- I do stuff, things, you know- people.”Auntie leans against the wall fumbles in a pocket, there are tears in her eyes, she grasps a crumpled tissue, dabs it at her eyes.The Professor stops what he’s doing and closes in fast, an arm around her shoulders, a clean hankie, monogrammed- A.Y. “I’m sorry Auntie, I never meant to imply…”“I just wish this was all over, that we could go back to the way it was, I liked it better, not knowing the world was going to end, and this place.” She looks around, a good hard stare at her surroundings- a dank dungeon corridor, broken stone, pools of water, blood, refuse- it stinks.“I’m an Auntie, a good Auntie, I knit- oh I can knit, stand still long enough and I’d knit a cover for you. I tell people- there-there, rub the spot, and make it all better again. I bake, I wash, I scrub, I chide, I moan- a little, a little is ok- everybody should moan a little. I’ve got a cat- Mr. Jingles…”Auntie reaches into her bag, sure enough she has a cat, Mr. Jingles, at least that’s what the collar says, the cat is ancient, one eye, and wheels at the back instead of legs.MEoW.Auntie puts Mr. Jingles back in her handbag.“And where are we? Where? We’re in some future-whatsit parallel dimension-a-thingummy, in a cesspit of a dungeon, fighting God knows what, and for God knows what- oh yes, Silver. And why?”The Professor nods.“Because we’re too old, and we’re no use, expendable, we’re entertainment for…”Auntie spins round on her slippers, one comes off, she puts her foot down in the murk, and points at… us, a silver robot like device floating in the air, one-eyed, recording, a red light says so, sending, a green light says so.“THEM.”Auntie collapses and sobs, The Professor grabs her, steadies her, presses her too him, he has to bend low for her head to fit over his shoulder.The camera nuzzles closer to Auntie’s tear-strewn face, rouge rubbed red raw.The Professor, without looking, swipes his cane back- connects, the camera scuds off to a safer distance.Minutes tick by, The Professor’s back is hurting, but he’s not moving.Eventually Auntie disengages, fumbles away her hankie and fumbles out a pillbox, “I think I need to take one of these, calm me down.” Auntie flips the lid, selects one, and swallows down the pill with a sip of lemon barley water, from her handbag.“You see I think of it a little differently dear lady.” Auntie smiles, she likes ‘dear lady.’“So society has said that we are no use anymore, there’s not enough to go around; air, food, water- the basics of life. And yet here we are Auntie, performing a social function, we’re pioneers, carving out a new world, making the future.” The Professor finishes.Auntie sniffs a little, smiles some more, a little more genuine this time.“I know I’m being silly. It’s just…”“I know, Auntie. I know- I miss my old life too. But. Here we are. Home Sweet Home.”The too look about again, nothing’s changed, except for their grins maybe.“And when we get this done then we can head off home, you can do all the things you miss- be with your family again, and I can go back to my books.”“For a while”, Auntie adds, “until the next time.”“Who knows what the future holds, dear lady, it changes every week.” The Professor smirks. Auntie reciprocates.The Professor shrugs, grins and gets back to opening the concealed door.“Oh. Door open. Oww. Hell’s bells”The Professor removes a small needle from the end of his finger; it has pierced his kid-skin driving gloves.He looks at the spot, there’s a dark stain beneath the skin. Without drawing attention to himself he sucks at his finger and then spits the blood and gunk into his hankie. Nothing seems to be the matter, a little sting- that’s all, he decides to grin and bear it.“Just a scratch- let’s see what’s inside.”An empty chamber- that can’t be right.A thorough search later, actually Auntie gets to hold the torch, The Professor does all the searching, and a secret compartment is found, a beautifully crafted longsword with a silver edged blade, within.“It’s a primitive tool, and silver- possibly highly prized in this world, I shall take it with me, for later study perhaps.” The Professor removes his hat and puts the longsword in- blade first, it doesn’t touch the sides, he puts his hat back on, tips a wink at Auntie.There’s nothing else to find here, they head off.And find themselves, a little later, back in the auxiliary guardroom, they’ve completed a circuit. They try another door, and continue their wandering, content to roam what seems to be, according to The Professor, “the western section of the complex.”They find little of use or interest, several other guardrooms- empty, a kitchen which Auntie has to be forced and cajoled out of- it’s disgusting, an offence to nature in Auntie’s eye. She has of course brought with her washing up liquid and sink cleaner, it’s in her handbag, alongside an assortment of colour-coded clothes, one for every surface and/or stain.They press on, and swiftly come to the conclusion that the area is either abandoned, or all the inhabitants are deceased.The pair head east, a little more content with their lot.Next Turn: Silver = Good.</blockquote>

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