It is night, and a cargo ship is rocked by an explosion, splitting it in two.
Hey, who needs $250 million and James
Cameron? They'll never notice the difference!
A young woman jumps for safety from it, and as she surfaces from the water, she hears a baby crying. She swims through the wreckage of the boat,
and elsewhere, an open crate floats past still-burning timbers. It contains a baby, crying to itself.
Will wakes up with a start, sitting bolt upright and sighing deeply, before holding his face in his hands. It was all a nightmare he was having. He
proceeds to take off his T-shirt and wipes the sweat from his face with it; then struggles to collect himself and looks out of the bedside window,
down into the street. His expression turns from half dazed to puzzled as he sees something interesting. Running down the middle of the street,
dressed only in her underwear and a T-shirt, is a young woman. He scrutinises her again, more closely, as she runs nearer. "Am I still dreaming??"
he asks in surprise. It’s the same woman from his dream.
Very shortly after, Will hurries out of Skillet’s Cajun Cuisine’ restaurant, where his room is, into the street. He’s in a state of near panic, wearing
only his jeans and carrying a blanket in his hands. "Hey!! Hey, hey!!" he shouts desperately, catching up to the young woman before she can run
past. "Uh.. er, er." He stutters, "Do you need help?" He approaches her in a hurry, offering the blanket after coughing into it, in true ‘Knight in
shining denim’ fashion.
"You know, Abigail, we've got this here tradition
in Houma... Anyone exploded off a boat has
to swap shirts with the first person they see..."
"Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to run outside without your shirt and shoes on?" Facing him, she looks him over and answers in good humour, as
Will tries to get his breath back. He pauses, seemingly stuck for an answer to her quip, or entranced by her; and eventually just nods and puts the
blanket round her; "Right," he whispers softly, before taking a gentle tone of voice; "here... come on," he ushers her to come with him.
As he opens his apartment door and escorts her inside, her face becomes wide-eyed with awe and joy. "You live here!?" she says, looking at the
place with a huge smile on her face. Will mistakes this, and his tone becomes apologetic as he fumbles to close the door behind them; "Ah, yeah. I..I
know it’s a..a little small --"
Will: "Ah, yeah. I know it's a little small.. sorry."
Abigail: "No, the room's really wonderful."
Will: "Oh!.. oh, erm, the room!?... er, yeah, right..."
" -- It’s wonderful!!" she interjects in awe, then turns to face him; "Sure. I would like something hot to drink," she replies to a question that hasn’t
yet been asked. Will gives a perplexed smile; "How’d you know that’s what I was gonna ask you?" he says, as she moves further into the room, still
clutching the blanket around her. She turns to him, smiling. "No big deal," she replies quickly, turning away from him again, "I know what people are
thinking sometimes." She turns back to him coyly; "My name’s Abigail. What do you do here?" she asks, as Will puts on a new T-shirt. "Don’t you
want to know my name first?" he replies in a bemused fashion as he pulls the shirt down over his chest. "Oh," she laughs, "I never ask people their
names until I’m sure I want to know ‘em." She picks up a piece of clothing that’s lying around and runs it through her fingers, before putting it down
again. "Okay, have it your way," Will answers casually, "I work downstairs in the restaurant," he tells her. "You *cook*!!?" she exclaims with a
broad smile on her face, immediately hurrying over to where he’s making some hot drinks, "... back at the government house I used to..." She
breaks off, as though she’s already said too much. "So, what’s your speciality?" she asks, getting the conversation back onto Will again, and not
herself. "Erm... dish washing," Will mutters with embarrassment, "do.. do you like Cajun food?" he turns and asks her, sounding a little more
enthusiastic, but still clumsy with a situation he’s not used to. "I never had it. I never had a lot of things..." she tells him as he pours water from the
kettle into two mugs. "... I’m not very experienced." (one gets the impression that Abigail isn’t talking entirely about Cajun food! <eg>)
She smiles to herself. "I got exploded off a boat tonight!" she tells Will. (gotta admit, it’s a pretty unique chat-up line!) "... that was an experience!"
she grins, still clutching the blanket around herself.
"Sorry, it’s not very warm, but..." Will mumbles as he finishes making the drink and turns to hand it to her. She takes it and begins to drink. "... That
was my dream!!?" Will suddenly says in surprise, the impact of her statement taking quite a while to sink in. Continuing to drink, she turns away
from him, walking back to the other side of the room. He walks a few paces forward, explaining the rest of the dream; "a.. a boat exploded, and
there.. there’s fire raining down everywhere, and... " he gestures to her as she nonchalantly seats herself on the edge of the bed, removing the
blanket and eventually facing him; "... there’s this... this girl... YOU!" (it really has taken a while to get through to the grey matter here.) "Probably,"
she replies with a smile and a casual tone; "I stumble into people’s dreams a lot. It’s, kinda like spilling the milk at the dinner table --" " -- You...
this, er..." Will fumbles his words, "... This is all too weird. I’m calling the Sheriff," he says, flustered, as he crouches down to the floor to pick up the
phone.
"Wait!!" she says emphatically, reaching out to stop him. He pauses in mid dial and looks at her; "... I know I sound kind of strange... I’m not hurt,"
she tries to explain, "it’s just..." she tries to find the right words as he scrutinises her closely, still very unsure of things. "... I get a feeling
sometimes…" Will’s expression seems to relax just a little as he listens to her story. "… like when I was a little girl, I’d play in the bio-aquatic
orchards, and... they had all these pomegranate trees," she smiles as she remembers wistfully what appear to be very pleasant memories for her.
Will just looks puzzled again. "... well, I was too little to reach the tree limbs, so I’d take the ones that had fallen to the ground, and... I’d cut ‘em
open, and I’d eat all those juicy red seeds; but sometimes I’d get one that would ferment, and... well, it would make me feel all light headed... like I
was going to float away..." she pauses, gently shaking her head as though this was always some mystery to her. "I know this must all sound pretty
strange to you," she says, but Will’s attention has been diverted. He’s looking down at her legs, where he’s spotted something unusual: A mark on
her inner thigh that looks like a supermarket bar-code!!
Abigail shows her worth, and Will can't
help but wonder if she's on sale or return.
"... a lot of strange things have been happening to me," she continues, as she runs her hands across her thighs. Will’s still too interested in that
general region to take notice of what she’s saying, and she notices this, looking down at the mark too. "It’s not a birthmark," she says, looking back
up at him, "... it’s a laser tattoo." Will looks up at her, perplexed. "How’d you know that’s what I was thin..." he gasps (well duh! Maybe because
she’s telepathic, but more likely because he couldn’t keep his eyes off her thighs and the mark was an unusually interesting landmark down there!)
she looks down, coyly, and smiles; and he shakes his head, realising the obvious, "never mind," he says good-naturedly, and she gives a little laugh.
"You wanna touch it!?" she laughs (there’s an offer you can’t refuse, Will!) He looks embarrassed. "It’s not going to bite!" she teases him, and he
backs off a little, still very flustered. (oops, looks like DID refuse the offer and missed his chance. On the ‘Will IQ metre’ for this episode, on a
scale of 1 - 10, the guy is now hitting the minuses.)
"Abigail!" He stands up hurriedly, "Why... why would you have something like that on your leg?" He pauses, "Wh.. where did you come from??"
"It’s where I’m going that’s a lot more interesting," she says evasively, picking up the blanket and putting it around herself again, as she stands up
and walks towards the window. He watches her curiously. "... and why do you ask so many questions?" she glances back at him, over her shoulder,
then turns to face him, her back to the window. He seems at a loss to answer (no surprises there!), and she gives a little sigh. "Listen," she says
gently, walking forward towards him, and now looking slightly uneasy, as though about to ask something of him. "... I don’t have anything right
now... except this blanket. Can I keep it?" she asks.
"Of course," he answers softly, with a casual shrug of his arms to indicate that there couldn’t have been any other answer possible. "Thanks." she
says with a broad, friendly smile. "What I was trying to say before... was... well..." she sighs again, "... if you don’t hold me, I think I’m going to float
away." He walks forward slowly, then embraces her, first gingerly, by her arms; then hugging her closely to him. (Finally! Smart boy.) She closes
her eyes blissfully, then opens them again. "What is your name...?"
In the swamp, a baby’s crying can be heard. As we move through the foliage, we see the crate from Will’s dream. Inside it is the child. We are
seeing all this in first person, through Alec’s eyes, and the viewpoint shifts to show Alec in third person, as he stands there and picks up the crate
and child, looking at it and pondering.
It’s still night, and we see a large, oppressive complex, with searchlights and vast, smoking, chemical pits. Guards are everywhere, wearing black
and red one-piece uniforms. Vehicles are moving around the place, busy at work. Towards the rear, a searchlight moves past a wooden boat
house. The whole place has the cold and deadly feel of a concentration camp.
Hi de Hi campers! Welcome to the fun-filled
family fun that's 'Antonworld, Orlando' tm
A man is walking with a purpose along a crate lined avenue of workers. Carrying a clipboard and wearing the jump-suit uniform of the other personnel, he’s looking for someone. He looks up at a man in a black suit who is approaching him from round a corner. He’s found his quarry! "Dr. Arcane," he greets the scientist, who’s striding towards him at an accelerated rate, and with a single-minded determination... and then straight past him. He turns and follows Arcane, trying to both keep up and attract the man’s attention. "You have --" he begins, " -- Privacy!" Arcane replies angrily, neither turning to face the man or slowing his pace for one second; "... privacy is what I have in my own home!" The man continues to attempt to deliver his message to the Doctor, not giving up, and risking Arcane’s wrath.
"erm, no Doctor, er.. um.. I was just brushing
some dust off your jacket, Sir... honest!"
"Dr. Arcane! Our reports say that the baby may --" he says with some degree of force and desperation, as Arcane enters an elevator to the interior
of the complex. " -- HONOUR IT!!" Arcane snaps furiously, spinning around to face the assistant (this is Graham, although he’s not introduced by
name in this episode) "... or take the consequences!" he snarls, as he hits the buttons on the elevator. The doors close, leaving Graham alone to deal
with the situation.
Inside the elevator, as it’s on its way down, the picture is very different. Gone is the angry, confident Arcane, and it its place is someone who looks
positively apprehensive. His arms are folded across his chest, as he looks at his reflection in a mirror on the side of the elevator wall. He adjusts the
neckline of his shirt, and runs a hand through his hair to neater it a little. It’s quite unnecessary, but it shows his state of mind. His expression is
almost nervous. Whatever he’s about to do, it’s very important! He gives the merest of smiles as the elevator reaches its destination; but it’s a cold
smile, denoting positive anticipation, but something darker lurking behind it.
The doors open, and Arcane is almost silhouetted in the bright elevator. The room he’s staring into is dark and silent, and completely in contrast to
the noisy, work-filled atmosphere above that now seems a whole world away. Slowly, he walks forward into what seems like a tomb from a dark
fairytale. He approaches a glass tube ahead of him, inclining his head wistfully as he gazes down at it, and the near-naked, blonde woman within. A
tomb is exactly what this room is. We’re now seeing an Arcane with none of the previous anger or harshness. His expression is gentle, even
loving… and sad.
"See, my darling. I've brought you a gift as a token of my undying
love." *pauses* "... So, er, I don't suppose you'll mind my leasing
you out at weekends to the 'Batman and Robin' film crew??"
"Happy anniversary, Tatania," he says softly, gazing down at her as he takes a single, long-stemmed red rose from his jacket, and places it on the
glass coffin. "It’s been ten years since your sweet, little veiled face said ‘I do’." With hands resting on the tube, he continues to look down at her
sadly; "I’ll never forget the moment when you injected my bio-restorative formula into the supple nape of your neck... to prove your love and trust in
me... to prove it worked..." his sad expression says it all. It didn’t work, and this is the result. "But it wasn’t ready, Tatania," he shakes his head
slowly, "... and it took your breath from me."
He seems to collect himself, to continue with the story, as though reliving it is some sort of catharsis (not to mention a good plot device to tell us
what’s happened.) "Ever since then, I’ve been... looking for the key to bring you back," he looks forlornly down at her. She’s not fully dead, merely
in a deathlike coma, and the tube isn’t a coffin, but a cryo storage unit, keeping her in stasis until he can find a cure. Behind Arcane, the elevator
doors close as it returns to the surface.
"I’ve been asked... to continue the work on Dr. Woodrue’s filogenetic transformation," Arcane continues, oblivious to anything else. He leans closer
to the tube, and it’s almost as though he’s imagining a two way conversation, and that she is listening to him. His previous wistfulness is now being
replaced by enthusiasm at his work, and he seems to seek interest and approval from his silent audience. With hands clasped together on the cryo
tube, he continues his optimistic ramblings aloud; "... could be an excellent opportunity to prove to them that I’m *far* superior to Dr. Woodrue,"
he says, flexing his fingers, before realising that his conversation is going off at a tangent, and that he’s now put her aside and returned to his
favourite topic of conversation... himself! He corrects this as he looks back at her again; covering up for, and almost apologetic for this slight. "...
a..and of course... a chance for me to bring you back, my darling." he touches the tube gently and leans over it, his face moving closer to hers;
It was always a tricky moment when
Anton forgot how cold the cryo tube was.
"Graham, help!! I think my tongue's stuck... Oww!!"
"sweet Tatania," he whispers, drawing closer, as though to kiss the tube (Oh boy! And we thought the guy had problems in the first season!) "...
there’s no other girl in my life..." He’s almost touching the tube with his lips now...
The elevator doors open, and Graham’s standing in silhouette, arms behind his back. Arcane immediately pauses, stiffens, and straightens up, with a
thoroughly pissed off expression on his face.
"erm, er, sorry to disturb you, sir, but I thought you
should be told. Your anniversary is NEXT week..."
"Dr. Arcane!?" Graham addresses him, seemingly fearless at disturbing Arcane in such a personal and emotionally compromising position.
"*What*!?" Arcane snarls, livid, his back still to the assistant; "What could possibly be so important for you to disturb me here!?" Graham answers
with two simple words: "General Sunderland!" Looks like this was an effective answer, as Arcane’s angry expression immediately disappears,
backtracking to one a little more contrite and apprehensive. One might even say he was looking worried. Whoever General Sunderland is, he’s
important enough to disturb Arcane here!
Elsewhere, within a stately mansion, a man is holding an electronic box to his scarred throat and speaking into it. It’s General Sunderland! "Miracle
of miracles, Dr. Arcane!" he quips into it, "... you’ve been located." His voice is metallic and modulated. He speaks to Arcane, who, from within his
complex is listening to the General’s voice while seated, looking onto the screen of a laptop computer. "I was checking the heating system on the
amniotic fluid tank, Sir," Arcane lies, in a voice more humble than we’ve come to expect from him; but then he is clearly addressing a man who is
both his employer, and someone he needs very much. This is the first time he’s ever been heard calling anybody ‘Sir’, acknowledged any sort of
superiority for another, or allowed them such leeway. "Have you disposed of Dr. Woodrue’s experiments?" The General gets down to business,
seemingly unconcerned with anything but practicalities. As he speaks, his words appear in bright red letters across the laptop screen. "Completely
destroyed in the cargo ship accident last night... No survivors." He reassures Sunderland, but the General isn’t so sure. "Dr. Woodrue is
hyper-scrupulous," his words both echo out and light up the screen. "A brilliant mind... perhaps greater than even yours..." he goads. Arcane’s eyes
widen ever so slightly at that, his face registering its anger at what is either an insult, or an attempt to get better productivity from him (or both); but
he lets the remark slide; a sign that the General isn’t someone he wants to lose his temper with. "... However, twenty years on one project would
bring down even the most sagacious scientist," the General continues, giving Arcane an opportunity to get back in there and suck up, and want to
prove his worth. He’s playing with Arcane and manipulating him... and Arcane’s letting him. "You will not be disappointed, General," Arcane
assures him, taking the invitation. "Go back to your ‘tanks’, Doctor," Sunderland tells him, seemingly belittling the man. Still keeping his cool,
Arcane makes to leave, but the General has an afterthought. "Oh... and, er… happy anniversary!" he tells Arcane slyly, the words sitting there on
the screen to emphasise them, before signing off and fading away. It was the General’s way of telling Arcane that he knew he wasn’t with any
‘tanks’; that he knew about his more private details, and that he knew exactly where he was only moments before! A very grim looking Arcane just
continues to stare at the computer screen.
"Right! If this doesn't convince the tourists
that we're NOT 'Gatorland', nothing will!"
Next day, outside the Langford house, Tressa is hammering away at a large painted sign that reads ‘Kipp Boat Rentals and Swamp Tours’, when Will and Abigail arrive together. "Ah... There! All finished." Tressa says cheerfully, standing back from the sign as the two youths approach her, watching her handiwork with interest; "... and I’ve still got two good ones left," she quips, flexing the fingers of her left hand -- which are covered in a multitude of sticking plasters – and giving them a bemused look.
"1 - 2- 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10...
... er, less creosote next time, I reckon!"
Will and Abigail just exchange glances silently, as though neither knows quite what to say in a situation like this. "... ‘n they say college grads can’t
fend for themselves!" Tressa says proudly, again surveying the sign with the deep satisfaction of a job well done. A final nod of the head shows
more pleasant thoughts of self congratulation; "Ah, this ought to have enough swamp lore to keep the tourists happy." she turns back to Abigail and
Will, her eyes widening in glee. "THEN comes fishing season!" she tells them, almost like an informal lecture, with her index finger pointed in
emphasis.
"Excuse me, but, isn’t the sign facing the wrong way??" Abigail looks at it and smiles cheerfully, trying to be as polite as possible. Tressa just turns
back to the sign and stares, open-mouthed. "Now how could that have happened!?" she exclaims, her bubble well and truly burst. "Don’t ask me,"
Will shrugs, "you’re the college graduate." Tressa just stares at him stonily for a while, before turning to Abigail. She hobbles over with a little gasp
of discomfort (looking a bit stiff from the work) and Will gives her a helping hand. "Hi, you must be Abigail?" she asks rhetorically, "Will phoned me
about ya," she smiles warmly at the girl. "I’m not going to be any trouble staying here, am I?" Abigail asks with concern, "I’ll cook every night if you
want!?" she says eagerly. "Oh... Deal!" Tressa grins broadly, offering her hand to Abigail to shake. "Means I can call my stomach back from
vacation." She certainly sounds happy with the arrangement. Tressa turns to regard Will, who’s looking silently at Abigail, exchanging a look of
bonding with her... which Tressa notices with interest. "I don’t suppose you’ll be wanting to stick around to sample any cooking?" she asks him
slyly. "What? no, er, sure. I.. I’d love..." he gives an eager smile which turns to flustered embarrassment, before regaining his composure; "... to..
sample." he finishes, having successfully completed a double entendre! "I’m sure you would!" Tressa gives a knowing look and a wry smile, before
turning back to Abigail again. "Who’s dressing you these days?" she grins, looking at the checked shirt and shorts that Abigail’s wearing. "Oh, I
didn’t have any..." Abigail smiles, looking down at the clothes then up at Will. "... Will lent me some things." "We burn them as soon as you freshen
up," Tressa jokes, "Mom sure had some things that’ll fit you." she offers. Abigail just smiles demurely to indicate she’s not entirely thrilled with this
idea. "... from my high school days!" Tressa adds with an embarrassed smile, realising this. "Come on," she beckons, putting an arm round Abigail
and leading her back to the house. (Knowing what Abigail almost wears for the rest of the season, I’m still having severe problems imagining even a
young middle-aged Savannah Langford in the same garb!!") They pass a very resigned (in an amused way) looking Will, who turns and follows
behind. "You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. It’ll be nice to have another person around for a change." Tressa is heard saying to Abigail as
they all walk away. (Reality check no. 2, since we can see Abigail’s clothes fully on the way back: I can just about buy the shirt, but if those shorts
used to be Will’s, then I’d say the guy was a lot thinner, and a serious cross dresser!!)
"I must get Will here!" From the swamp, later at night, a very concerned Alec is saying to himself. He steels himself and concentrates, an eerie wind
striking up. Back at the Langford house, the front door opens and Will steps onto the porch, before descending the steps and walking forward.
He’s sensed something, and listens carefully. "Swampy!" he gasps, before running off into the swamp.
"You... you were calling me, weren’t you?" he says, when he’s finally found Alec, who immediately hands him the child. "I need your help. The
infant’s dying," Alec says solemnly. "This baby. I.. I’ve seen it before," Will gasps, cradling the child, who’s beginning to give some soft cries and
gurgles. "In my dream. It.. it was --" " -- It was not a dream." Alec tells him. "Then what.. what was it!?" Will says irritably, looking more and more
flustered. "I don’t know anything about... babi.." he stops in mid sentence, looking up; but Alec is gone. Only the swaying movement of the Spanish
moss from the tree branches above, shows that he had passed that way, or had ever been there at all.
"And Kipp takes the pass 'n makes his run, past 1 defender, past 2... 3.
Woo Hoo! There's no stopping this boy as he goes for the touch down! But
wait! A 4th defender is waiting ahead... so Kipp throws the ball in the air
and skilfully kicks it to his team-mate... Uh oh!... I wonder if they do bounce??"
Will gives a last puzzled look, before remembering the situation at hand. "TRESSA... ABIGAIL!!" He shouts, running back to the house at full
speed with the infant in his arms. "CALL DR. HOLLISTER!!" He cries out as he runs up onto the porch and into the house.
Later, Dr. Hollister is at the house, performing an examination of the child with a stethoscope. Abigail is gently stroking its head. The examination
finished, Dr. Hollister straightens up, removes the instrument from his ears, and looks pretty grim. Tressa is by his side. "Closest I’ve seen to this is
the Oliensky baby, back in ‘62..." He tells them. Will and Abigail look on anxiously. "... ah, something about... bad blood..." Dr. Hollister continues.
"No, Tressa. I don't care if it does have a bar-code on it, and Will
swore blind that it looked like a frozen chicken; you really should
have called me for a second opinion BEFORE you put it in the oven."
Tressa puts her hand up to cover her mouth and chin, a sign of worry, sensing that the doctor isn’t going to be giving very good news, which he
confirms, saying that without a full examination, he’s just guessing in the dark. "Ah, Dr. Hollister, I’ll pay whatever it costs," Tressa grabs his arm
and implores. He gives a sardonic little laugh and a shake of the head, gently rebuking her; "Ah, don’t insult me, Tressa. It isn’t about lab costs...
Specialists, ‘n... equipment...." he says wearily, as Will and Abigail continue to look at the helpless child and comfort it; "... all of which is down in
Beaumont," he says, his tone of voice getting more hurried as he turns and heads for the phone. "I’ll call Medivac. They may be able to helicopter
her out." he picks up the phone and begins to dial. "How much time is there!?" Tressa asks concernedly, but Dr. Hollister holds out a hand to
indicate that he’s got through, and for her to be hold off and let him speak to them. "Yeah, this is Dr. Hollister over in Houma. I’ve got a medical
emergency..." Will and Abigail continue to look worried in silence, each second seeming to last ages. "... I’ll hold." Dr. Hollister says, before turning
back to the room of anxious people and the child. "We may have already run out of time," he grimly answers Tressa’s earlier question, as she
nervously tends to the child. "... The Oliensky baby died in my arms before I got her to the hospital," he adds a depressing afterthought. The child
just lies there, oblivious to all that’s going on.
Back at Arcane’s complex, the elevator doors open, and the Doctor steps out. He wanders along, surveying the work going on around him. "Dr.
Arcane!" Graham approaches him, clip board in hand, as though he’s been looking for the Doctor; "I just overheard a Medivac request from Dr.
Hollister in town," he tells Arcane as the two walk together. "People get sick all the time. It’s not my concern," Arcane says irritably, stepping up his
pace a little and looking very grim (give the poor guy some Prozac, someone. He’s not having a very happy day!)
Graham’s trying to keep up, and is sounding desperate to get the Doctor’s attention... something Arcane doesn’t seem to want to give at the
moment. "This one may be! The patient was found in the swamp!" he tells Arcane, with an air of persistency. "... A female new-born..."
"Yes, Doctor, I..I know you originally liked my idea
of a suggestion box, but I promise... I swear, I'll find
out who it was that said we'll save space and a fortune
in electricity by getting rid of the 'dead chick in the freezer' "
That sure catches Arcane’s attention, and the Doctor stops and turns back to Graham, who continues. "I tried to tell you before!" he explains to the
scientist, and Arcane now looks very determined... and still very grim, as he orders Graham directly; "Get that baby!"
Back at the Langford house, Abigail’s sitting on the porch, cradling the baby in a shawl and humming to it gently, soothing the child. As she does so,
she seems to notice something that puzzles her, and she stands up from the swing seat and gets a closer look. She walks with the child to the steps,
where she can get more light to see by. The child has a laser tattoo mark... just like hers!
At that moment, she hears something and looks up, as a man dressed in black jumps down from the porch roof as though to attack her. He’s
looking decidedly unfriendly, so she dodges and turns, running away... straight into the waiting Graham, who grabs the child from her after a brief
struggle. Both men run off as Abigail stares helplessly at them, in anguish. "NOOO!!" she cries out, but the men are gone and the child’s cries
recede into the night.
A very short while later, Will is furiously trying to start the motor of their boat. Will and Tressa are in there with him. "If they left by airboat, I might
still... still be able to catch them," he gasps, pulling at the cord of the motor, which is having none of it. "Oh, forget it, they pulled the fuel line!!"
Tressa shouts to him, holding up a disconnected fuel line. "Look, take the line and I’ll get stored gas!" she says, scurrying out of the boat and leaving
Will and Abigail together.
As soon as she’s gone, Abigail clambers into the front of the boat with Will. "Will, I didn’t want to say anything before, while Tressa was here," she
says, "... but I saw something... right before the baby was kidnapped." This gets Will’s attention, and he breaks off from his work on the fuel line to
turn and look at her, a puzzled look on his face. "She had the same birthmark as mine." (funny, I thought she said it WASN’T a birthmark before?)
"Wh.. what is that supposed to mean!?" Will asks, his patience almost at its limits. She pauses, looks down and sighs, having made a decision to tell
him. "I spent my entire life in a government house. Alone, except for a watcher and, some teachers... and Dr. Woodrue." There’s a pause as she lets
Will think on this, but he’s offering no reaction so far.
"You heard of test tube babies?" she asks. "Is that what you are?" is his reply. She just gives an enigmatic smile to indicate yes, and Will turns away
with a cynical sigh. "Great! I just get used to talking to a plant, and now I know a test tube who can cook!" he quips. Abigail sits back, preparing
herself for more. "I’m one step further than just a test tube," she says reticently, and Will turns back to her. "They didn’t need human genes to make
me. Something about synthetic DNA..." she smiles wistfully and shakes her head, as though trying to remember. Will just stares at her, bewildered.
"... Thing is, a few days ago, they cleared everything out, packed it up, and put it all on a boat... including me," she continues to explain, "I thought
we were moving somewhere..." as Will continues to stare in shock, her voice becomes soft and sad, "... it’s more like they were just throwing me
away." Will can’t believe this, and shakes his head in amazement and anger; "Throwing you away!? Wh.. why??" "Dr. Woodrue always said he
was... " she pauses as she remembers the words, her eyes showing a look of regret, but at the same time, amusement; "... disappointed, in the way
that I turned out… Whatever that means?" she adds. "Huh, it means he’s either blind, or a complete idiot!!" Will jumps to her emotional rescue." He
seems to contemplate something. "Wait..what about... what about the baby??" he remembers, wondering how it fits into the picture. "I guess she
was on the boat with me," Abigail surmises. "I never saw her at the house. There were all these rooms that I wasn’t allowed in, where experiments
were going on." Will’s looking disapproving and bewildered with all this. Abigail then becomes suddenly frustrated. "Th.. there’s just so much I
don’t know!!" she exclaims. "Don’t worry. We’re going to find that out soon enough!" He reassures her. "That’s the problem," she replies, "even if
we find the baby and we bring her back... there’s nothing anybody can do." Will turns away, as though not wanting to hear, "... and no matter how
bigger the hospital we take her to... like me, she’s one of a kind," she shakes her head slowly, "There’s no-one in the world that can save her."
Elsewhere, in the swamp, an airboat is powering its way at full speed through the water. "What do you suppose Arcane’s going to do with this
baby?" over the sound of the engine, a man’s voice is heard asking. "Dispose of it. He wants no evidence." Graham’s distinctive voice is heard
answering.
Ahead of them, in the moonlit waters, a head rises from the swamp. Alec is watching and waiting.
Back at the boat, the thing has now come to a stop, and from his seated position at the front, Graham is frantically trying to get it started again..
"Come on, come on, let’s go!" he mutters angrily, before getting more and more desperate. "COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!
COMEONCOMEONCOMEON..." Graham repeats, over and over. "Hurry up. We gotta get this baby back to Arcane. This kid doesn’t look so
good." the man at the back tries to hurry Graham along. Ahead of them, Alec rises out of the water to his chest, still watching them, but unseen.
"What happened?" the man at the back asks Graham. "Suddenly lost steering. Could have hit some swamp grass." Graham replies. The child’s
crying can be heard over their conversation. "You better check the rudder. I’ll start it up again," Graham orders. He remains seated while the other
man climbs down and goes to take a look.
However, before he can do so, he’s grabbed and dragged backwards by a large, green hand. Graham looks on in shock, and immediately tries to
start the motor again. Alec’s reaction is to grab hold of the back of the boat with determination, and concentrate. Vines and shoots start spreading
from his hand, clogging up the rotor. Graham just watches incredulously as the angry looking Alec brings it to a complete stop. He then takes a
more practical approach. As Alec holds up a vine draped hand, Graham picks up a handgun, and in his panic, empties 4 bullets into Alec… the
entire clip, as the empty clicking sound indicates... and it hasn’t even wounded Alec!
"erm... just thought I saw a spider on you... sorry..."
The look on Graham’s face is one of sheer terror as Alec turns round to deal with his now helpless assailant. Alec reaches up and grabs Graham by
his jump-suit, and hurls him into the water. He gives the man a last look, but takes no further action against him, and turns his concentration to the
crying baby, which he plucks gently from its basket. "How can someone so small and helpless, be in such danger?" he asks incredulously.
He holds the baby to his chest, cradling it protectively with his vined-covered hand, before walking off into the swamp. He lays the child down in a
quiet spot. "You’ll be safe here," he says gently, and the child just gurgles happily as he walks away.
At Arcane’s complex, things are busy. Guards are patrolling the perimeter in abundance. At the very edge, one of them feels something on his leg
and looks down. He’s entangled by a large root! He tries to shake his leg free, grunting and starting to shout, but before he knows what’s
happening, he’s being hurled backwards through the air into the bushes with a strangled cry. Mere moments later, a searchlight illuminates the area
where he was... but it’s now empty and silent.
"That's better! Finally, some decent, impressive
camera angles... whoa! Steady with the dry ice, guys!"
From out of the bushes, Alec walks forward, silhouetted and looking imposing as he surveys the complex before him... then walks forward with a
purpose!
Arcane’s busy working by a maze of industrial pipes and tanks, a file of notes in hand, and with his back to us. "This is where you grow life!" Alec’s
voice intones from behind, causing the Doctor to spin round to face him. Any initial shock is well covered, as Arcane merely regards Alec in silence
for a moment, before allowing a wry grin to cross his face as he regains an arrogant composure. "I do not grow life... I create it." He calmly corrects
Alec, with pride, "... from whole cloth, if you will. Let’s just say the only difference between Him --" Arcane grins and glances up towards the sky,
"-- and me, is that I do not rest on the seventh day." "You’re not God; you’re a garbage man!" Alec rebukes him. "Your mistake is that some of
what you dispose of is human life."
The Saturday night gatherings of the 'Dead
Wives Society' was always a lively affair.
With a smug grin, Arcane closes the file and folds it and his arms across his chest. "Well, that wasn’t a mistake. That was the raison d’être." his grin
broadens, his tone becoming more casual; "...see, evolution takes about as long as the French opera to get on with it, and we can’t wait. I’m
concerned with immediate results --" " -- I’m concerned with life." Alec tells him firmly, as their diametrically opposing viewpoints and attitudes are
put nicely in perspective. "Ah!... the infant," Arcane’s states softly, almost teasing, as he’s clearly realised the reason for Alec being here. "Yes, she
is dying, poor soul..." he whispers mock sympathy in a voice smooth as velvet, "... but if you want me to give you some magic cure to help one of
Dr. Woodrue’s blunders, well..." He pauses, his face lighting up in glee, "... excuse the commonality, but, er... ‘needle in a haystack’ springs to
mind." Remaining casual throughout, his tone has now become quite flippant. His words say that he can’t help, his tone and expression say it’s
because he won’t. "The infant is in haemolytic crisis!" Alec insists, apparently still hell bent on appealing to Arcane’s better nature. "The plant still
thinks like a scientist," Arcane says slowly, surveying Alec appraisingly, and his tone sneering and derisive. "This is not a game!!" Alec insists
forcefully, "It’s human life!!" he continues, and Arcane does seem to have adopted a more attentive expression, rather than his previous mocking
one. It’s plain that Alec is beginning to lose his temper. "I have not killed you in the past, because to kill you is to become you... a dubious
distinction at best. TELL ME NOW... What will save that baby!?" Perhaps Alec is still trying to appeal to Arcane’s better nature, but more likely is
the fact that his words hold the tension of a veiled threat that perhaps he may just dispense with that ‘dubious distinction’ if Arcane doesn’t help him!
It doesn’t take much for Arcane to recognise the anger and the danger, and not wanting to push his luck, the answer Alec requires is forthcoming,
and speedily delivered. "Hydro-oxacinic acid, in these tanks," he tells Alec eagerly, "... but it must be carefully bio-processed through protein mass
to be effective," he adds the stinger, smugly confident that he’s given Alec what he wants, but that the help is useless anyway. Alec surveys his
nemesis as he rubs salt into the wound, his callous, casual tone returning; "... and that technology is... light years away." His voice has a ring of
victory about it. "For you, maybe..." Alec replies calmly as Arcane watches him. Now HIS voice has the smug ring of victory to it; "... but for a
plant... a walk in the park..." He turns to the side, and readies himself to smash open the pipes leading to the tanks.
"NO, YOU FOOL... DON’T!!" Arcane screams, seeing the danger, and without wasting a single second, turns to run. Ignoring the fleeing Arcane,
Alec puts rams fist into the pipe, rupturing it.
Alec always hated these uncontrollable gas attacks.
A huge vent of acid steam issues forth, and immediately, warning klaxons sound throughout the complex. Once enough acid has been absorbed, Alec calmly turns and walks away as Arcane hightails it out of there as fast as he can, literally running for his life since he knows the strength of the explosion to come.
The scene, two seconds after Arcane
learns that his mother is coming to visit.
It’s just as well, since he gets just far enough away to be safe when the pipe and tank system behinds him erupts in an enormous blast, but the ensuing power of it is still enough to throw him forward to the ground.
"Last time I invite Alec bloody Holland
to any of my house warming parties!!"
Alec then returns to the swamp, where he left the baby, still safe on the ground. "I now have the formula to save your life," he tells the child, carefully
picking her up in her shawl.
"Take her. Cure her!" Alec tells Will, as he hands him the child, shortly afterwards. "How??" Will looks up at him and asks. "My fingers pulse with
life and power..." Alec holds up his hand and looks at it, "They form life..." he shakes his head sadly at the irony, "... but they’re not delicate enough
to save a dying baby. Use this!" he says, holding out the hand to reveal an object held in it. "A pomegranate!!??" Will says incredulously, staring at
it. "The amino acids in the seeds will save her," Alec explains. "Go. *Now*!" Will doesn’t need telling twice, and he grabs the pomegranate and
runs back to the house. Alec watches him go, then he too turns to leave, his role fulfilled.
Back at the Langford house, Tressa and Abigail are anxiously waiting on the porch in silence, when suddenly they see Will hurrying back, holding
the child. "You found her!! How!?" Tressa shouts to him. "I can’t explain," Will mutters, running past them up the steps to the front door. "Well, I’ll
call Dr. Hollister," she says. "There’s no time," Will answers hurriedly, running into the house and leaving the two of them on the porch. Abigail and
Tressa exchanged puzzled and exasperated glances, gesticulating in bewilderment, before running after him.
Inside the house, Will’s resting the pomegranate on a bedside table and cutting it in half with his pen knife, before scooping out a portion of the
centre seeds. He then hurries over to the bed where the baby is lying, and begins feeding it the seeds, all the while cradling its head.
At this point, Abigail and Tressa come running in. Abigail goes to the baby, but Tressa looks at the table. "What are you doing??" she gasps, seeing
the pomegranate. "Tressa, it’s all right," Abigail reassures her, realising what Will is doing. The baby doesn’t look happy, but does seems quiet and
peaceful as the seeds take effect; "... it’s just... pomegranate juice," Abigail whispers, then seems struck by an epiphany, "and it’ll work! Just like it
did with me," she explains. "… So that’s why I liked pomegranates!" she says to herself, the mystery is finally explained.
Once and for all, as Tressa and Abigail gather round
in awe, Will proves that he CAN tie his own shoelaces.
Tressa’s not so convinced or happy though! "Y..Y.. You’re both crazy!!" she gives an astonished shout, gesticulating wildly and shaking her head. "I’m calling the doctor!" she announces, striding off towards the phone. "No, believe me!" Abigail tries to calm her down, "... it won’t do any good." she holds Tressa gently, trying to reassure her. "This is our only chance." "Pomegranates!!??" Tressa retorts angrily, "A..Abigail, I.. I don’t know what middle ages you crawled out from, but in the modern world --" her words are cut short by a gurgling cry coming from the baby. They all look down, incredulously, to see the baby returning to normal and becoming well again (if unhappy!). Abigail gives a joyous smile and a little laugh, while Tressa looks on in astonishment, and happy relief. Abigail then picks up the child and hands her to a very surprised Tressa. "Oh.. my.. my gosh!!" she gasps, as she takes the infant in her arms and cradles it lovingly. "Oh...oh, She’s okay!!" she laughs, as Will and Tressa gather round in celebration with her.
"Okay, you three. Last few shots, and let's make this quick.
We've got to get it back to 'Rent-A-Rugrat' in an hour."
Some time later, outside the Langford house, Will and Abigail are working on the swamp tour sign that Tressa was hammering earlier. Will is
standing at the base, while Abigail is on a step ladder, hammering some nails into it. Just then, Tressa comes running up to them, a broad smile on
her face. "Dr. Hollister said the crisis is over! The baby’s fine!" she imparts the good news, and they all look pretty happy. Suddenly, Tressa hears
something and turns back briefly towards the house. There’s the sound of a car approaching. "Oh, there’s the foster parents. Do says if they work
out, they can adopt her permanently. Come on! Let’s meet ‘em!" Tressa says eagerly, rushing back to the house. Everyone’s looking happy, except
Abigail, who now has a distinctively pensive expression. "In a minute!" Abigail shouts, "... just a few more nails," she says, with little enthusiasm,
before turning back to the sign. Will watches with interest as she begins to hammer at the sign, with very little determination.
"You’ve got enough nails in that board to land a plane on it," he quips, realising that the work on the sign is just an excuse not to go and meet the
new foster parents. Abigail just gives a few last, pathetic knocks with the hammer, before giving up the pretence and hanging her head a little. "Why
don’t you want to meet the new couple?" Will asks her. She turns to him and sits down on the ladder, sighing deeply. "Ever since I can remember...
I’ve had this dream about mom and dad," she looks up wistfully, with a regretfully empty laugh cum sigh, "... driving up in this big, dusty car... and
telling me that I was their daughter." Will looks on calmly as she tells her story. "They were going to take me home..." she glances back towards the
house, "... kinda like what’s going on over there," she says wistfully. Will looks back, to see Tressa talking to a friendly looking couple standing by a
silver estate car, and shaking hands with them. He then looks back at Abigail, who gives a wide-eyed, but sad smile, and a little sigh, before turning
back to the sign. "Looks good, huh?" her smile broadens, as she changes the subject and covers up her sadness again, before taking the hammer in
both hands and putting some finishing touches to the sign. "Now the whole world can read it!" she announces, having finished it. Will nods, an
enigmatic and wise look on his face. "That’s right. Nothing’s any good if you turn your back to it." She understands the meaning and looks
uncomfortable, but he smiles at her gently. "Come on... Let’s go meet a dream of yours?" She gives him a concerned glance, to which he responds
with a reassuring wink, and beckons her to come down.
"Okay, Abigail. Now remember. If they ask, the rugrat's healthy and
happy, and there's positively no chance of it ever being hunted down
by evil military megalomaniacs, mad scientists or crazed cyborgs. Got it?"
With a smile, she gives in, and he helps her down from the ladder, before strolling off to meet the baby’s new parents.
"What do you mean I've got to do this EVERY
episode from now on!?!?... Ewwww!... I'm all soggy..."
Back in the swamp, as Alec submerges under the water, he utters the words:
"This pond restores the body of a plant each night... but underneath... is still the soul of a man."
Note: Many episodes from this one onwards (all second season, and quite a few third) end with similar shots of Alec entering the swamp waters,
uttering a few profound or ironic words showing some relevance to the episode we’ve just scene (at least in theory :-)).