Smith & Jones

This episode brought to you by CarolinaC

Snowflakes swirled in the neon light, and Jones blinked at Kris, uncomprehendingly. She had her arms around both Smith and Jones and was laughing. Laughing, laughing, and laughing, in a way that made Smith feel mildly concerned. Somewhere, far away, small bells jingled almost musically.

Dwarfed by the buildings that extended impossibly high into the sky, the lights of a passing hovercar momentarily illuminated our heroes, revealing:

— a dark-haired man sporting a monocle, albeit one that periodically had information stream across it in blocky, green text. This was Smith.

— a fair-haired man in a grey, wool coat, except that the wool was shot through with charcoal-coloured fibres of something that looked like graphite but was certainly not graphite. This was Jones.

— a tall woman with red-hair, wearing a black leather dress, an oddly petroleum-scented stole, and knee-high boots. This was Kris.

The sound of bells grew louder, accompanied by a low whine which also, very gradually, grew louder and higher pitched. As the hovercar's lights panned away into the never-darkness of the neon-bright city, Kris finally unhanded them. Her face looked a slight bit green, moreso than could be explained by the lighting.

"I don't think that popcorn suited her," Jones said.

"I think that stupid new portal is what made her sick," Smith retorted. "You remember!"

Jones cast his mind back to about ten minutes ago, when, having finally met - okay, seen - the Writers, they had spoken with, well, someone. Someone named 'Ooorah!' who had sent them through a portal to save the multiverse. A portal that had rippled like water within an orange border. Kris had often said that portal travel was harmless, but this portal had been different from all the portals they had travelled through before.

"I suppose you may be right," Jones said, looking doubtfully at Kris, who was now spining around in the falling snow with her arms out, like a child trying to make herself dizzy. "The sooner we figure out what we need to do here to save the multiverse, the better.

The sound of bells and the whine of an engine grew almost unbearably loud and a strange vehicle fell out of the sky and crashed onto the street beside them. Kris, already unbalaced by her spinning, ended up on her bottom, staring at the thing.

"Santa Claus!" Kris exclaimed.

Smith and Jones had to admit she was not wrong. The vehicle which had crash-landed practically at their feet was something like a sled in shape. Unlike the sleds Smith and Jones were familiar with, however, it was made of the same, grey material as reinforced Jones'coat, and had glass tubes running along its side. These tubes pulsed with red, green, and white light, neon-bright, that chased along the tubs like a manic, flowing candy cane.

At the front of the sled was neither a horse, nor a steam-powered mechanical reindeer, as might have been expected. Instead, there was a small, vaguely pyramidal object headed by a small, circular, bright red light. It floated at knee height, tugging gently at its tethers.

The sled and its flying companion had no bells at all; the constant sound of jingling emerged from two grates on the back, a sort of musical exhaust.

Most important, however, was the person in the sled. He was chubby, wore a white beard, and had a metal left arm which ended in a strange, sac-shaped protrusion. He was also dressed in shiny red pleather from head to toe, and a sequin-bespangled hat. 

"It is Father Christmas!" Smith exclaimed, "I want some of the excellent Battenberg cake my aunt makes, and a pair of diamond cufflinks like Jones has, and — "

"And some cognac!" Kris exclaimed from her prone position, lying on the pavement. Snowflakes were begining to stick to the faux-fur of her stole, making her look as though she had been dusted with sugar.

"Yo, yo, yo!" The red-clad man exclaimed. "I need your help - to save Cyber Christmas!"

"Is this part of saving the multiverse?" Jones demanded. He was kneeling beside Kris, begining to prop her up so she wasn't lying down on the cold, dirty concrete.

"This is more imporant than the multiverse!" Smith retorted. "What can we do for you, my good sir?"

CyberSanta looked amused. He waved his arm-sac. "I need to get all these virtual gifts to all the good little girls, boys, and near-human androids in the neon megacity - but I have a problem. I've been disconnected from the network!"

"You need a dying star. Lotsa power," Kris said, slurring her words slightly. "I was gonna use it to test - to test - I was -"

"Rest, Miss Kris. I think the portal made you ill," Jones said, his expression concerned. "I don't know how we're going to save the multiverse with you ill."

"Portals're - they're perfectly safe," Kris replied.

Smith walked over to the sled, muttering something about Leyden jars. He brushed some of the falling snow off of the vehicle. "How can we connect you? When I was a lad I spent two summers as a steam-cycle runner for Her Majesty's telegraph office, so if you use wireless -"

"Subspace!" Kris interrupted.

CyberSanta laughed. "Neither one, friends, neither one - I'm on the hypernet!"

At the word, Smith's monocle buzzed to life. Green letters streamed before his eyes. He stopped abruptly.

"It responds to my thoughts! My monocle never did that back home in Steampunk!"

"Smith!" Jones exclaimed. "I think your monocle might be connected to this - this hypernet! If you aren't willing to figure out what we need to do to save the multiverse, see if you can look up how to connect this . . . sparkly Father Christmas!"

Smith nodded in agreement. 

Kris muttered, "Search 'network settings', maybe?"

Smith shrugged, but focussed on trying to control the text on his monocle. Meanwhile, CyberSanta walked over to where Kris was still sitting on the ground with Jones kneeling beside her. 

"Yo, yo, yo!" he said, in a jolly fashion.

"Shouldn't it be 'ho, ho, ho'?" Asked Jones.

CyberSanta laughed. "Not in the neon megacity. You must be from somewhere very far away."

Jones nodded. "We are. We're supposed to be travelling to different places to help save the multiverse."

"We're from real far," Kris said weakly, "Real far."

"Not feeling well, eh?" CyberSanta asked.

"We went through a portal and she's been strange ever since," Jones explained, "and she ate popcorn."

"Portals after popcorn? Did you eat popcorn, too?"

"Well, not so much as Kris."

"Portal sickness is caused by dehydration," CyberSanta explained, "Hold on."

 Santa held out his metallic left arm and the top of the sac hummed and irised open. He reached in with his fully-human right hand and pulled out a pill.

Jones looked doubtful.

"Dehydrated water," CyberSanta explained.

Jones snorted. "Dehydrated water? How can you dehydrate - "

"Just have her take it," CyberSanta interrupted.

Jones took the pill and handed it to Kris. 

"Come on, Miss Kris! It's a present from Father Christmas!"

"Santa Claus," Kris corrected, weakly. But she took the pill.

Less than three seconds later, Kris was on her feet. 

"Smith!" she ordered, "search 'sled' and 'hypernet', and let's get going!"

Five minutes after that, Kris, Jones and CyberSanta were crawling around the sled in response to Smith's instructions. Kris slid the last not-graphite panel shut, breathed on her hands to warm them, and smiled.

"I think we got it, Santa. You online?"

"Yo, yo, yo!" Santa exclaimed, "I'm online and all my virtual gifts are sent! Everyone on the hypernet is going to have a Merry Christmas!"

"Excellent," said Jones. "Now can we go figure out what we have to do here to save the multiverse?"

CyberSanta smiled, and a portal flashed into existence behind him. The orange border matched the neon city lights, but the centre of the portal rippled darkly, like deep water. When the snowflakes hit it, they disappeared, no doubt passing through to the next world the Writers needed rescued.

"Helping me save Christmas was what you had to do here," CyberSanta said.

Jones smiled and turned toward the portal.

"Wait!" called CyberSanta. "I have gifts for you, first. Not virtual ones, either," and he pulled three packages from his metal sac.

Smith recieved a rectangular pink packaged, which he unwrapped quickly. 

"Battenberg cake!"

Jones recieved a very small package. He smiled when he discovered that it was a jewellery case, the perfect size for his diamond cufflinks - now he wouldn't lose them when they travelled through the portals.

Kris got a large, cubical package, wrapped in grey paper, which she hugged to her chest.

"Open that on the other side of the portal," CyberSanta advised.

Kris nodded as Santa climbed into his sled.

"Yo, yo, yo!" Sants called. The sled engine whined to life with a jingling sound like hundreds of small bells. The floating device with the red light strained at its tethers for a moment; then the sled sliently and swiftly rose into the sky. In seconds it was gone.

The flashing neon lights illuminated the faces of our three heroes in shades of red and green as the snow drifted down to catch in their hair and lay on their clothes. Kris looked down at the package in her arms. "Come on," she said.

"Finally!" Jones exclaimed.

The three stepped through the portal; the portal blinked out of existence in a flash of light. The red and green neon light continued to illuminate the snow and play against the grim, concrete buildings, silent and unobserved in the empty street.

~*~

The portal closed. Wherever they were, it was warmer, here, but some of the snowflakes that had come through the portal were still floating in the air. Smith, Jones, and Kris found they were sitting on a green, grass lawn that filled most of a park or square between tall, crystal spires. Kris was still hugging the large, cubical package to her chest.

Standing in front of the three was a dark-haired boy in a white robe. He was perhaps ten years old, and was carefully examining a single snowflake which quickly melted on the tip of his finger.

"Nix?" he asked, looking confused. "Sed aestas est."

Kris and Jones exchanged surprised expressions. Smith, on the other hand, held out the first slice of his Battenberg cake.

"Refreshments?" he offered, smiling at the boy.