by Chris Troman
without." "Yes I'll go hide behind the tank." When his twin was out of view, Sebastian approached the door. "Who is it?" he enquired through the stout door. "Doctor Mountebanks please come quick,” implored the muffled voice of his house cleaner. "There's been an accident out front." At this the doctor tore open the door, and grabbing his medical case he stormed after the now receding figure.
There was indeed such a horrendous scene on the road, that grown men stood by and wept. "Quickly help them into my dinning room", commanded Sebastian. He soon had a make shift surgery set up, where a boy of nine and two girls of similar age lay on his table. They were all chloroformed when he turned to his helpers. "And now you must leave me to my work." Shooing out the well meaning crowd and locking the door, Sebastian proceeded across to the other door. Which he unlocked and dashed down to his laboratory. "Quick there is no time to lose" he called to his facsimile. Then a brief explanation took them both up to work their trade. By the time the first patient was coming round, all three were safely drawn back from the jaws of death. And there was only one doctor in the room.
Later that night the two Mountebanks sat exhausted over a well-earned brandy. "Imagine a hospital full of us." "Yes a fine gift to the world, but as individuals wouldn't we be devaluing ourselves. Like flooding the market with newly minted currency." "I see what you mean, and suppose one of our number were to be tempted to do wrong." "Yes who could they blame." They sat deflated after this chain of thought, then the original remarked. "At least you must remain hidden until my, I mean our lecture next Tuesday." Giving each other a steely look both solemnly agreed.
The next day Sebastian had business to do in town. So safely locked in, his other half had agreed to carry on with some experiments they had been working on. It was with some surprise that at a quarter to eleven, the doctor put down the test tube he was examining. When an urgent knock came at the door. "Quick sir there's been an accident down on Trent Street. Can you attend?" He didn't recognise the voice. But ever the dedicated practitioner he set forth, quickly scribbling a note and snatching up his bag.
So when doctor Mountebanks returned with arms full, he was shocked to say the least at the turn of events. Trusting the other as he did himself, he quickly devised a disguise of a scarf and dark glasses. Least some one saw a resemblance between himself, and the doctor on call. Then he headed for Trent Street. On reaching the spot his twin had claimed to be at, he found no trace of an accident. In fact, a hasty enquiry revealed nothing untoward had happened there all day.
Dumfounded he slowly retraced his steps. Perhaps his other self had been waylaid en route, for he knew the way here, so the other did too. A sickening feeling was rising in him, like fear for a relative. Understandable he reflected, as alleys and darkened doorways took on a sinister hue. Just then his attention was caught by a knock from an upper story window, and a figure was dragged back. Animated by this ray of hope he charged the door, and thankfully it was not as stout as most. For the lock soon yielded to his shoulder, then he was bounding up the stairs. Sebastian stormed into a small room, where two men were stood over a third. He had just been knocked to the floor.
The speed of Sebastian's entrance took them both by surprise. He bowled them over and was soon was rolling round the floor, helped now by his twin. Who had realised help was at hand. Blows fell back and forth, but then a knife flashed. And with a frenzy only experienced in battle, the doctors turned their knowledge of human anatomy against their two antagonists. It was only when two men stood panting, and two lay dead at their feet. That one turned to the other, and realised his twin was breathing a little too raggedly. Then both looked down, to see the bloodstain spreading over his chest.
The doctor's bag was no ware in sight. It had been dropped in the struggle to get the doctor waylaid, no doubt for a ransom. "Let's get you back home. It's not far and we've all the tools I need." So holding the scarf over the wound, to staunch the flow of blood. The two moved as quickly as they could. How no one noticed this pair as they staggered back; is a tale in itself. But keen not to be noticed, they practiced discretion to perhaps too much a level. For when they crossed the thresh hold of the laboratory, one man was considerably paler than his counter part. Wheezing he lay on the table, while the other deftly worked his skill. But despite the doctor's utmost efforts, the wound was too deep. And at last the doctor lay over the other, crying in a wretched state.
Curse those villains, to steal away a kindred spirit and a true friend. But work must go on, and the lecture would be given. An account of their past few days would be needed. He would have to give an explanation of a dead specimen, instead of the living and breathing one expected. But he was ready for that. So when the lights rose revealing the dead doctor, the living one gave the account of his work. He gave also details of the brief friendship, much to the applause of the crowd.
As the doctor left the room, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. And turning he exclaimed, "lieutenant Hardwick glad to see you again. Did you enjoy the lecture?" The other beamed. "Rather, and I suppose back in'54 when I thought I'd lost my arm. You were working up to this with your field doctoring." "Yes it has been a long route." Shaking his hand the doctor turned to go. "I see you've done some work on yourself. Doctor heal thyself and all that." A little confuse the other turned back and the lieutenant explained. "Your scar from that sabre cut on your right cheek is gone." "Yes" the other replied. And turning again thought. "I should do something about that".
Aggressive Behaviour
Doctor Penrith turned to his assistant and asked him. "Did I ever tell you about my trip to Africa?" The chubby faced man paused between samples, and replied in the negative. "Fascinating time, I will always remember the locals. The H'lawee tribe, fantastically proud pigmies, it's a height thing. They would march through the elephant grass, with just their spears showing proclaiming, "We're the H'larwee." "Really." The assistant was obviously unimpressed by his superior's monolog.
"But I've always thought the smaller the individual, the greater need to prove one self. Take Napoleon for instance, only four foot two and conquered most of Europe." Terrance Moorhouse, for such was his name interjected at this point. "What about circus midgets?" The doctor pondered this a moment. "They probably work it out, doing all that acrobatics and stuff. They can't all be emperor wannabees." The two men lapsed in to silence again, and continued the important war they were waging on the Viridans. They were mankind’s most fearful foe, to measure up to the human race in all its history.
Commander Pylori of the Viridans royal guard approached his emperor. "O mighty emperor the troops are ready for inspection." "Very well lead the way, there's a good chap." The emperor leisurely strode behind his loyal general, who had vanquished the Quintana Empire in 2732. And valiantly quelled of the Tetani uprising, not long after. The mighty emperor Smegmatis the third, stood resplendent on the balcony of the royal palace. Then he addressed his loyal warriors.
"I salute you brave champions of the Viridans empire. You who will compete in the five hundred and third Vulnificus games, to show our supremacy of the world, and bring civilisation to the godless barbarians of the Jenjuni wastes. Now hence you to the Genitalium."
As a body the brave combatants saluted their great emperor, and marched en masse to the stadium. Where so many would lose their lives, competing for the chance to fight the enemies of the glorious Viridans Empire. Typhi, a stout warrior from the south bristled with pride at being chosen for this honour. "Rattus you had better watch out, I feel we must meet in mortal combat. And you will not stand up to my strength and agility." The other merely glanced back and jeered. "That's if you don't trip over yourself first." Several round them chortled, as Typhi glared at his foe.
As the brave warriors approached the gates of the Genitalium, a giant of a guard stepped out of the portal. And in time honoured tradition, spoke the challenge. "Who approaches the Genitalium, that he may fight for the right to vanquish the ungodly foes; of the most glorious Viridans empire?" The battle-scarred warri
or at the front stepped forth. "I Caulinodans will fight for my emperor Smegmatis the third, and the glorious viridans empire. May it last forever." The guardian stood aside, and intoned the counter words to this utterance. "Then pass in to the arena friend." And the first warrior entered, where only one would leave.
Stepping back in to place, the diligent guardian challenged the next combatant.
So each in turn entered the Genitallium. Until all were ensconced within the arena, named after the great champion of yore. Genitallium, the vanquisher of Megaterium. Then he forged the mighty Viridans Empire, back in the mists of time.
With all the combatants assembled, the lore master Durans addressed the proud warriors. "I hail you brave champions of the Viridans Empire, loyal servants of emperor Smegmatis the third. Today you enter the arena of Genitalium with heads held high. Before the sun sets on this prestigious monument, to the masterful warrior of yore. Who defeated the terrible Megaterium, then founded this great nation. One of your number will leave, with the right to vanquish our base foes in the Jenjuni wastes. Here now are the rules of combat. There are no rules of
