Repeated Encounters

Chapter 9: Henry Hidgens

As the troop wearily approached, Paul could tell that the others, bar Emma who had been here before, were looking up at the house, no, wait, the mansion in awe. He knew this because that's exactly what he was doing. At first it looked like your everyday, run-of-the-mill massive house in the middle of nowhere, but, with a second glance, you could see the subtle differences. Barbed wire lining the fences, security cameras every few feet-

Paul's perusing of the fortress, for lack of a better word, was interrupted by a loud buzzing. He looked around to see Emma, standing at the gates, speaking into a, well, speaker.

"Who is it?"

A sharp, frantic voice emerged from the speaker. He could only assume it was this Hidgens person.

"Professor Hidgens!"

"Don't lie to me, whoever you are. I'm Professor Hidgens!"

At this point, Paul couldn't tell whether this guy was joking, or if he was serious. From what he could tell so far, he assumed the latter. This didn't bode well with the already worried man.

"No, Professor, it's me, Emma Perkins? The whole town has gone crazy, I didn't know where else to go."

"Emma! You've come to the right place! Hold on, I'll let you in."

With a buzz, the gates started to open. The rarity of their use was evident as they inched open when a loud creaking emerged from its hinges.

The equally as frantic team of co-workers and friends quickly hurried through the gates and inside the house.

The inside of the house didn't feel nearly as big as was expected, although it still wasn't that easy to find you way around. This wasn't the best thing when you had to lug around a 150 pound man behind you.

After a few minutes of searching, they finally came across the professor standing alone in one of his many rooms. Emma quickly ran over to him and started thanking him profusely.

At the loud bang of ... Sam? being dropped on the floor, Emma turned around, still talking to her professor.

"These are my friends, this is Paul and ... them. We came from downtown. Now, listen, this is going to sound crazy, but everyone-"

"Singing! And dancing? Like a musical? They want you to join them, once they get you, you're a part of it!"

"Uh, yeah. How did you know?"

"I theorised this exact scenario thirty years ago!"

The confusion was clear on everyone's faces. Well, at least everyone who was listening. Charlotte was still fussing over her probably dead husband on the floor.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Like, exactly this?"

"Exactly!"

"That the world would become a musical?"

"You'd better believe it!"

"Wait. So that's what's wrong with Sam?"

At this, Hidgens turned, and his face of extreme gloating morphed into one of rage and fury.

"Good God! Don't tell me you brought one of them here!"

Everyone started screaming as he brandished a gun and aimed it at Sam's head.

"Told you we should have left him in the alley!" Shut up, Ted.

"You're a monster, Ted!" Exactly.

"No! He's a monster!" Can't argue with him there.

"Alright, everybody calm down!"

Says the one waving a gun around.

"Providence has brought him to me. Quickly! Cuff him to the chair. Make sure he's secure. There's no telling what would happen if he were awake and loose. I've been preparing for this day for decades. Now, all of the answers are right in front of me! If only I had the wits to decipher them. Alright."

With that, Hidgens approached the unconscious "man" and started to prod and poke at the blue brain. With a squelch, he extracted a pile of blue goop from inside Sam's brain. Everyone looked disgusted.

"Now, tell me Emma, what on Earth does that look like to you?"

"Oh, God, um, I don't know, some kind of blue ... shit?"

"Exactly, Emma! What the fuck is this shit? I'll tell you what on Earth it looks like! Nothing. You all remember that meteor that crashed into the Starlight Theatre last night? I dare say it carried a deadly cargo. A contagious pathogen of cosmic origin."

"Wait a second, doc. Don't tell me you're talking about ... aliens?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? Think of all that we take for granted now that was once foretold in the pages of Bradbury and Azimuth. Look no further than my robot assistant, Alexa. Once confined to the realm of science fiction, she is now science fact! Alexa! Dim the lights.

"Extraordinary! Twenty years ago, I would have had to walk all the way to the dimmer!"

Just to emphasise his point, he walked over to the dimmer switch to brighten the room once more.

"Now, as unbelievable as his or the outbreak may seem, the question is no longer can this be happening, but how do we stop it? I've got to get this blue shit beneath a microscope to find out what makes these bastards tick!"

By this point, everyone had just accepted the fact that when Henry Hidgens talks, you should expect a long, overly dramatic speech, filled to the brim with what seemed like, and what everyone hoped were, unrealistic, crazy theories.

"Sorry, professor? This is a lot to take in. Do you have anything to take the edge off, like, drink, or something?"

"Young man, for the past twenty seven years I have been stockpiling the bare essentials needed for human survival in the events of a world ending cataclysm. You bet your ass we got booze. Come with me."

Hidgens slung his arm around Paul's shoulders, and they strode off together in search of alcohol. Emma decided it would be in her best interests to follow them and also get drunk. Bill just didn't want to be left alone with Ted who would probably just insult him.