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FRINGES: ONE OF THOSE DAYS - PART 8
There had been another incident.
Although the matter was now under UNIT's jurisdiction, despite Broyles's protests, Olivia had been invited to accompany the Doctor and Napoleon Solo to the site of the latest attack. This time, there wasn't just a victim, but a suspect in custody as well.
UNIT had cordoned off the site, and was keeping everyone at bay. Napoleon Solo moved briskly, although it was obvious he was favoring his good leg. The Doctor sailed along, hands tucked into the pockets of his overcoat, long scarf fluttering behind him.
They passed through the security cordon, entering an opaque plastic tent. There, the victim of the latest attack had been sealed in a bodybag. His killer lay on a table, restrained by heavy straps, an IV stuck in his arm.
The man was smallish, with bony features and dark hair cut in a style Olvia thought of as a Moe. He had sharp features and, surprisingly, ears that tapered to sharp points. His clothes consisted of a grayish-silver tunic, trousers and dark gray boots. The front of his tunic was sticky with dark green fluid.
"Well, Doctor?" said Solo.
The Doctor frowned, leaned forward to peer at the figure. The wounded man's eyes opened and he muttered something in a guttural language. The Doctor nodded and responded in kind, then the assailant closed his eyes again.
"Doctor?" prompted Solo.
"He's a Romulan," said the Doctor. "Humanoid natives of a heavy gravity world. Their blood is copper-based."
"I'll pass that on to the medics," said Solo. "Any idea what he's doing here?"
"None at all," admitted the Doctor. "Isn't that interesting?"
Olivia was examining the Romulan. The expression on her face was one of stunned surprise. She touched the alien's hand.
"This man is an alien?"
"Yes," said the Doctor. "Surprised?"
"Surprise isn't the right word, Doctor. I'm . . . staggered." She drew her hand back from the Romulan's, unconsciously wiped it on her slacks. "What are they going to do with him?"
"Contain him for the moment," said Solo, rejoining the duo. "We can't have a dangerous extraterrestrial wandering around, eh, Doctor?"
"No," admitted the Doctor. "Which reminds me. Someone aught to be looking for the Ogri."
"Someone is Doctor," a gravelly voice informed them.
Olivia turned, saw that two men had entered the tent. One was older, with craggy features and eyes like flint. His companion was younger, African-American with a neat mustache. Both men wore black suits that wouldn't have looked out of place in a funeral parlor.
The Doctor bridled. "Agent K." He glowered at Solo. "What are the MIB doing here, Napoleon?"
"UNIT asked for our assistance," said Agent K. "Isn't that right, Mr. Solo?"
"Napoleon!" The Doctor looked scandalized.
Solo sighed. "We're a bit thin on the ground, Doctor. We need all the help we can get."
"But. . . !"
"No buts, Doctor," said Solo, firmly. He looked at Agent K. "We've got a hostile silicon based lifeform on the loose, Agent K. An Ogri. I'd like you and Agent J to oversee the search and capture of it."
"Of course, Mr. Solo," said Agent K, flatly.
"Alive, please," said Solo.
"If possible," said Agent K. He glanced at the Doctor. "I'm not making any promises."
The Doctor scowled, jammed his hands into his coat pockets and stormed out of the tent.
There had been another incident.
Although the matter was now under UNIT's jurisdiction, despite Broyles's protests, Olivia had been invited to accompany the Doctor and Napoleon Solo to the site of the latest attack. This time, there wasn't just a victim, but a suspect in custody as well.
UNIT had cordoned off the site, and was keeping everyone at bay. Napoleon Solo moved briskly, although it was obvious he was favoring his good leg. The Doctor sailed along, hands tucked into the pockets of his overcoat, long scarf fluttering behind him.
They passed through the security cordon, entering an opaque plastic tent. There, the victim of the latest attack had been sealed in a bodybag. His killer lay on a table, restrained by heavy straps, an IV stuck in his arm.
The man was smallish, with bony features and dark hair cut in a style Olvia thought of as a Moe. He had sharp features and, surprisingly, ears that tapered to sharp points. His clothes consisted of a grayish-silver tunic, trousers and dark gray boots. The front of his tunic was sticky with dark green fluid.
"Well, Doctor?" said Solo.
The Doctor frowned, leaned forward to peer at the figure. The wounded man's eyes opened and he muttered something in a guttural language. The Doctor nodded and responded in kind, then the assailant closed his eyes again.
"Doctor?" prompted Solo.
"He's a Romulan," said the Doctor. "Humanoid natives of a heavy gravity world. Their blood is copper-based."
"I'll pass that on to the medics," said Solo. "Any idea what he's doing here?"
"None at all," admitted the Doctor. "Isn't that interesting?"
Olivia was examining the Romulan. The expression on her face was one of stunned surprise. She touched the alien's hand.
"This man is an alien?"
"Yes," said the Doctor. "Surprised?"
"Surprise isn't the right word, Doctor. I'm . . . staggered." She drew her hand back from the Romulan's, unconsciously wiped it on her slacks. "What are they going to do with him?"
"Contain him for the moment," said Solo, rejoining the duo. "We can't have a dangerous extraterrestrial wandering around, eh, Doctor?"
"No," admitted the Doctor. "Which reminds me. Someone aught to be looking for the Ogri."
"Someone is Doctor," a gravelly voice informed them.
Olivia turned, saw that two men had entered the tent. One was older, with craggy features and eyes like flint. His companion was younger, African-American with a neat mustache. Both men wore black suits that wouldn't have looked out of place in a funeral parlor.
The Doctor bridled. "Agent K." He glowered at Solo. "What are the MIB doing here, Napoleon?"
"UNIT asked for our assistance," said Agent K. "Isn't that right, Mr. Solo?"
"Napoleon!" The Doctor looked scandalized.
Solo sighed. "We're a bit thin on the ground, Doctor. We need all the help we can get."
"But. . . !"
"No buts, Doctor," said Solo, firmly. He looked at Agent K. "We've got a hostile silicon based lifeform on the loose, Agent K. An Ogri. I'd like you and Agent J to oversee the search and capture of it."
"Of course, Mr. Solo," said Agent K, flatly.
"Alive, please," said Solo.
"If possible," said Agent K. He glanced at the Doctor. "I'm not making any promises."
The Doctor scowled, jammed his hands into his coat pockets and stormed out of the tent.
