Something New

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

A Silver Star Story

In full costume the mousefem Silver Star sat in her chair, booted feet propped up on an empty camera case while she waited for her next scene. Beside her sat her co-star, a vixen known to her fans as Petunia. Petunia of course was actually the series main star. Silver Star being only a reoccurring, yet very popular part in the series. A fact proved when the fans clamored more and more for stories with the mouse. Both women were currently hot, tired and well aware that at least three more scenes of filming remained. Both could complain, throw a fit, demand this, that or another. Probably even get what they wanted as other, more established actress’s were well known to do so. Once. But the two were B movie actress’s. Neither could command more than a mid-four digit salary, and often less than that. Throwing a fit might get them the rest of this day off, but tomorrow could be just as bad or worse. Both knew that, and both knew that this was the last Petunias Perils chapter. The plug had been pulled, in fact they were both, because of their loyalty to the director and the characters, working on half salary with no chance of more coming in. Truth be told, privately both were happy to see the last of this storyline.

It had been a good run for a 1930's movie serial. Good experience for both and fun a lot of the time. But the mouse who played Silver Star wanted to continue her aviation career, to put film making behind her. And the vixen who played Petunia was afraid of being typecast. Stuck forever in B movies and serials as the seemingly clueless female reporter. She had plans, and those plans involved bigger movies, more fame and several very attractive male co-stars. Currently though both waited calmly as a background set was repaired by local half-assed union workers while others, paid to play as extras, wandered around aimlessly. The last scene had stress tested the set a little beyond its design, and the union was supposed to be working to repair a supposable space worthy silver ship which now had a rather large, and gaping hole in it. Mainly they were standing around jawing as they always did, on the clock.

“You warned them it wasn’t strong enough” the vixen whispered as she took notes. “You did.”

“Ahn ahm ah woman” the mouse reminded her friend. “Tha paid tha much attention. Dinna they.”

“Yep. Three hours of filming lost, and that certainly looks like a storm coming our way. If we were on Spontoon or Nuni Hale this would have been fixed in thirty minutes. These guys just want to be paid to show up, and often not even that. So my good friend. What will you do when our esteemed director calls ‘That’s a Wrap.’”

“Might have ah job lined up” Jean Lynn Morris, the woman who played Silver Star answered. “Cargo group needs ah pilot. I’m in, as-long as we finish inside two months. I get to fly supplies for ah archaeological expedition. You?”

Charleen Van Pugpug, the vixen who played Petunia grimaced. “Best thing I’ve been offered is a B movie. Something called The Mars Project.” She shook her head, her artfully ragged hair following half a turn behind her movements. “It is supposed to be scientifically correct. No monsters, just fur against space. I’m being typecast Jean, and that’s death to any actress’s career. Still it is a job, even if I will be third banana in a B movie production. This time I’m the scientist female brainac assistant. They even have me wearing glasses! But I’ve a full twelve lines, better than most supporting characters and it is a movie. Love interest in the co-pilot and oh, if they get who they want. What a hunk! Character actor, not much depth of talent but who needs depth of talent with that body. Of course there is the letter from Shirley Shrines director. I could play the little brats... Darlings Aunt. It pays twice as much, but I’d be spending that on medical bills is my thought. I think this one is set in Scotland. Something about a large lizard and a pagan curse requiring a maiden sacrifice, or dozens. As I understand it, the Aunt is a maiden. Probably selected as the last noble sacrifice.”

Jean snickered. “You’d cut ‘er throat the first day.”

Charleen shrugged. “You’d cut her throat the first second you were in range”

“True.” Jean looked over to the set, noting that there was no way it would be ready in time. Her long tail curled under the chair as a gust of chilled air struck them. “Gonna be night shots” she groaned, “Only way tah keep on schedule. Union’s gonna pack up ahn leave, we’ll have to do it short crew ahn overpay the extras again. Ahn ah had hoped fer ah bit of sleep. You know I’ll never work in Hollywood again. Not after this episode.”

Silence answered her, looking over the mouse was unsurprised to see that her companion was asleep. Well, she’d learned the trick from Jean, so when in Roma...

It was the final scene, they could film it from this angle and hide the still wet paint so that it didn’t glisten in the lights. Jean laid down carefully, letting the smoking rubble be set about her. Certain changes had been made in Lucy’s script. A final hook, to allow their fans to dream of future stories. Stories that would appear in fanzines, mimeographed by the hundreds and shared between hack writers. Instead of Silver Star left standing alone on a cliffs edge, while carefully added special effects later showed a receding dot of light. Just enough of a second, much smaller ship had been cobbled together. Thus when the command “Roll It” was called Jean counted slowly to five.

Painfully pushing away the remains of a stone wall that had fallen upon her after the last explosion, Silver Star staggered to her feet. She leaned against a large smoking, shattered stone, catching her breath. Her clothing was artfully torn, in places it smoked. Her trademark utility belt was missing, as was her firearm. Finally looking up into the sky she watched as a blazing light faded away. Petunia. In chains and enslaved by the Martian hypno-ray, was gone. Already leaving Earths atmosphere.

A deep moan of loss escaped the mouse and for a moment she dropped to her knees. Petunia, gone. Not just escaped as she always did, or dead. But horror of horrors, dragged off to another planet. Dragged off to help renew the Martian race by bearing them pup after pup until her worn out body revolted and died. Still kneeling, her attention was diverted from her morning by a loud metallic scraping sound. A sound that caused Silver Star to look behind her. As she watched a large metal beam was slowly sliding off a smaller ship. A ship that was hovering. “Hovering” the mouse said softly. In a flash she was on her feet, running to the table where her belt and weapon still lay. Belting her gear on she paused on her way to the little craft, looking up to the sky. “I will save you my love. No matter the cost. I will save you.” Then she ran to the little craft, finding and opening its single hatch. Within a minute the little craft began to move forward. Move forward and rise as it did so.

“Cut. Print. That’s a wrap for tonight people” The porcine Director Robert Windslong yelled through his megaphone. “Shut the set down, we’ll will film the capture scene tomorrow.” Snow flakes struck his nose then. Llooking up into the night sky he shrugged. “Or when the weather clears, whichever is first.”

Jean dropped from the makeshift little saucer, helping push it back along its rails into position. After two such scenes the short crew were exhausted. “Nice scene Jean” Robert said as he walked up. “It fits a little better too.”

“Georgie’s idea” the mouse admitted. “Give the fans hope. God I hate to think what those fanzines are going to pump out after they see this one in Europe.”

“And one day you’ll remember to keep that accent of yours when your tired” he answered with a laugh. “How is your tail?”

“Singed. A bit too much flaming debris the first shot. I’m a mouse, not a rat. I have fur on my tail you know.”

“I know. Say Jean, I’ve a question.”

Dusting her paws on her costume Jean lifted the trademark Silver Star patch to look her employer in the eyes. “No, I won’t come back to that orange orchard with you. I won’t join you and your lovely wife in a den of depravity, no matter how much she and I get along.”

“Well, that wasn’t the question” Robert admitted. “The real question is this. I’m sort of like your fans, I want to know. Would Silver Star fall in love with Petunia? Were it real? The characters I mean.”

Shrugging the mouse began taking her gear off. Being real, not cheap props, it was heavy after all. With the newly falling snow already filling in their pawprints it was dangerous to wear this much weight this close to the edge of a three hundred foot cliff, even if there was deep sea water at the bottom. “I don’t know Robert. Really. I’ve thought about it, read the old scripts, remembered scenes. I can’t say. That’s for the character to decide. Or you. You created us remember. It’s not for a bit actor to say one way or another.”

Robert nodded agreement, following beside his favorite actress. “I got Charleen that job with the Mars movie Jean. They wanted you by the way, but you said you were sick of Science Fiction. Even though this one is supposed to be based on best guess science. There’s a Jumble Jim movie that needs a female lead. Amazon character. Same money and your Songmark training will be important to the part. Three times what this gig normally pays. I owe you both you know. I always repay my debts.”

“Thanks Robert, but I’ve already got a job lined up. Two months off then I’m flying again. Doesn’t pay as much, but I won’t need to visit a casting couch. Besides, I love to fly and insurance groups won’t let stars be pilots. Offer it to Charleen, she just might jump at it. She’s deathly frightened of being typecast as a dull witted female reporter.”

“Okay, I will. In the morning. Until then, Goodnight Silver Star.”

“Good night piggy boy” Jean laughed, heading for the tent she that shared with an already sleeping vixen.

Months later, on the Southern end of Maddygascar, a young archeologist assistant named Brenda Wilcox gently brushed dirt off what appeared to be a circular section of bone. Part of a vertebrae she already knew, working carefully as further material was removed. Kronosaurus actually, an animal that lived in the water. She was really certain of her discovery, having only just last year having earned her own Doctorate. Thus her training was still very fresh in her mind. Of course she had been on several digs before, during her university schooling. But this one, her very first professional dig was supposed to be an initial investigation, and had been about as useless a trip as any could be. Only a few dozen bones had been found on this forgotten section of nowhere, all of them of commonly known dinosaurs. It was frustrating. For her, for Professor Leroy Marklin and for the people with them.

Sitting up to stretch her own complaining bones, the young mouse looked around her. Ten digs in a two hundred meter square site. No other living thing for miles, depending upon exactly where the tiny town of Fitampito really was. Other than themselves and the aircraft that visited weekly they were alone. Even the natives refused to come within miles of this place. Surrounded by desert it was as though they were on another world, even the radios often picked up nothing. For all one could tell, the four of them, along with the aircrafts pilot, could be the only living things left on Earth. It was a sobering thought, how quickly air travel could remove one from reality. Wiping her face with the back of one arm Brenda turned back to her task. Just why was this site so devoid of bones she wondered. After studying those ariel photographs Professor Marklin had been so sure.

Still the high point so far for her in this expedition was in discovering that their pilot was one Jean Morris, the mouse who played her favorite villainess Silver Star. That good news had been tempered with bad, when the mouse had confirmed that there would be no more Petunia’s Perils. Not ever. That saddened her, as she had always looked forward to that series. Hurrying down to the local Cinema each Saturday morning, watching a movie, cartoons, two or three newsreels and three or four serials. Normally a cowboy one, followed by... She shook her head, returning to reality. It was a full sun day and though they were far South of the equator, they were well north of Nuni Hale where it was snowing this time of year, and from where her favorite film star had filmed her most important story.

Another half hours work loosened the bone. Calling Frank, the expedition photographer, she waited until he had carefully wasted a roll of film documenting the bone and its position. Then carefully lifting it out she placed it in a waiting wooden box, letting Frank take it over to the inspection tent for her. When she looked down into the bones depression something sliver winked at her. Silver? Here? And not oxidized blacker than coal? What in the world could it be she wondered, and how did it get to where it was. That was the real question.

Hours later Brenda escorted her boss, Professor Leroy Marklin, to the object she had found. Outwardly he showed little real interest as they walked to her somewhat remote dig site, though the mouse had no idea that he was as excited as she was confused. When they arrived the bear remained at ground level, while Brenda made her way to the meter deep hole she had dug over the last four days. His bad leg made climbing difficult the mouse knew, and he wouldn’t want to disturb anything important. “As you can see sir, it is in-situ. Certainly not something someone might have brought in for a jest, and there was a series of Kronosaurus vertebrae above and around it.”

Kneeling down to better see the ten inch long impossibility, still tightly held by the moist earth, the bear examined her find. “Obviously paw made” he decided without much effort. “High craftsmanship. Certainly ornamented in a way I have not seen before. Still my specialty is Paleontology, not ancient history. So young lady, truthfully. What is your opinion?”

Brenda settled down on a bench of untouched earth, looking first at the rounded rectangular object, then up to the man she’d quickly learned to respect. “This area was dug up, and this was left behind” she finally decided. “It looks like the ground is virgin, but there are no really strong striations. Since this area is covered by the nearby river in storms, a few thousand years would have been enough to bury it this deeply, were the hole left open.”

“And your Kronosaurus bones? Were they in order or jumbled.”

“Jumbled sir. Indicating that they were disturbed after death. Most likely after the body had rotted away.”

Doctor Hunter smiled. “Which leads us both to what conclusion my favorite ex-student.”

Brenda wiped her paws on the tight blue-jeans she wore. “This artifact is not native to the level it was found in. It is either a salted artifact, or taking into consideration the circumstances, a purposely buried object. For either religious reasons or more likely, as I have found no evidence of further objects, hidden for safe keeping.”

“I concur.” The older bear stood carefully, brushing loose earth off the seat of his own looser pants. “This island probably was once inhabited by a previous civilization. Legend says a great storm came to this place, washing all of the earth off its surface in its anger. Leaving behind only the sands that are here now. Thus the probability is we are sitting on top of a village, which also explains the absolute dearth of finds.” He looked around himself, nodding. “Close up, I’ll send Jean over to help and tell everyone else to start packing. We move operations further inland to site two starting in the morning. Meet me in my tent tonight, we can decide what to do. We’ve only two weeks left after all.”

“Leroy What are the chances such a legend is true? This island is almost seven hundred miles long, and at least a hundred wide at our position. It would take an impossibly huge storm to do that.”

“Or something like several Krakatowa’s at one time my dear. A lot of the islands in this area of the world are stratovolcanoes, some are still active. Nor are the charts that good. There is a reason this land is taboo, and why we couldn’t get a single native to come with us. Besides, flood a small area where all the people live and the legend is that the world was flooded. You are smart Brenda. You look, you listen and you never jump to conclusion. That is one of the reasons I accepted you as my second. The other of course being you are dating my nephew, and you are heads over tail in hero worship of my pilot. Go ahead and dig that out, standard protocol. Then close up.”

“Yes sir.” The mouse watched as her employer limped off, then began carefully digging.

Professor Leroy Marklin though, other than pausing to tell Frank and the cook to begin packing up, limped directly to Jean Morris’s large tent. It had to be large because it held the darkroom, and was used as his real command headquarters. Such as they were. Everyone thought that he and the mouse were having an affair, seeing as how much time they spent together. It was a rumor the bear disliked, for Jean was not in any way his type. At least that was what he kept telling himself. It was though a rumor that Jean delighted in.

“Remember Professor” she once explained. “In Hollywood, and among the fans of Petunias Perils, Charleen and I are not only lovers. We were secretly married on Spontoon Island years ago.”

He almost laughed as he remembered that line. Jean had proved time and again that her tastes were exactly the opposite of that. He’d once found her in a bar surrounded by several very male admirers. “Jean” he said as he entered the tent. “Brenda found proof. This is the place.”

Jean Morris raised her head from her pillow, looking at the older and larger bear. “Thiss’s mah bedroom too” she reminded him. Dragging herself into a sitting position the mouse rubbed her face with her paws, waking herself from what had been a rather interesting dream.

“Sorry. Excited” the bear apologized as he turned his back, though not as quickly as he could. Her sweat soaked undershirt stuck to Jeans body like glue, and he would be licking his chops at the view would he let himself. Still, he did stare while he could. Jean wasn’t some Hollywood watermelon chest, but she was well enough naturally endowed for his taste.

A moment later Jean told him he could turn around. “So, what did the little rat find” the mouse asked as she finished buckling her jeans.

“Box. Platinum most likely. I let her think it was some treasure buried a few thousand years ago. She should be bringing it in later.” He watched as Jean drank some water, bending her back to get the bottle to empty down her throat. That position did very interesting things to her clothing, and Leroy wished that he had not added that special clause into their contract. At the time he hadn’t any interest in rodents, rather being weak-kneed around felines. Jean though was able to cross that barrier without even thinking. “And Brenda is a mouse just like you. Not a rat.”

Jean laughed as she sat her water bottle down. “Doesn’t stop you from looking. Okay, just why do you think she won’t fight you on this. You told me you hired her for her brains, she certainly isn’t a great beauty.”

Setting down in a folding chair Leroy gave a short laugh. “Pretty enough. Smart as a whip, she’s going places. Eventually. But she’s right out of schooling. She could drag in a living missing link into the auditorium and the Society will ignore her. She has zero reputation.”

Jean nodded, running one paw down her long tail to straighten its tight hairs before continuing. “Which is why your hiring new graduates from Songmark for the real dig, rather than people like Nikki an Katherine.

Leroy nodded in agreement, reaching out to snag a bottle of water as it flew through the air towards him. “Intelligent, well educated and with zero reputation” he agreed. “Smart enough to know that what we may find will be the end of their career, curious enough to need to know. Once I publish, then they will be grilled. Until then I suspect that everyone in this expedition will keep their muzzles shut. For their own protection if no other reason.”

“There’s me” Jean reminded him.

“Calculated risk” the bear admitted. “I needed someone like you. I got lucky and you hired on. Next expedition your in charge of the Songmark side.”

The tents flap opened just then, allowing in bright sunlight and a very heat exhausted mouse. “And I am in charge of what” Brenda Wilcox asked, setting the silver colored box on the worktable between Bear and mouse.

“Okay” Louis said softly. “Kill her Jean.”

Brenda barely opened her mouth before the other woman was on her.

Three weeks later Professor Leroy Marklin bid his two male companions good-bye. He and Jean would be going to Spontoon, to await the Songmark graduation ceremonies and to bring back with them the selected students. His two male companions were going for supplies, then returning. “You will meet us back here at the selected date” he reminded his men. “Two months exactly, not a day later. And don’t forget the special needed supplies this time Lei” he added with a grin.

“Have numbers for expedition. Very small this time” the American born Chinese man responded. “Is another fishing expedition?”

“Yes, with several young nubile girls. Any one who could easily kick all three of us into the river with both arms and one leg tied behind them. Remember that Padden.”

The tall ratel laughed. “Seen Jean in a few bars” he answered. “Wouldn’t want to ever get on her bad side. And your bringin two more? I think I’ll go home ahn bring my wife. For protection.”

All three men shared a laugh before the first two boarded their charted flight. They would go to Cairo, then England to gather the needed supplies and by passenger freighter return to Maddygascar around the same time Marklin, Jean and the girls would arrive.

After their aircraft left the respected bear made his way to another waiting aircraft. As he approached the engines slowly turned over, idling sweetly as he climbed aboard. Pulling the rope that lifted built-in stairs he locked them in place, closed the hatch and secured it. Only then did he join the mouse Jean Morris in the cockpit. “Next stop, Spontoon” he said as he eased himself into the seat.”

“Buckle in Professor. Its going to be a long, and I hope borin flight” the mouse answered as she contacted the rickety tower. Minutes later their aircraft lifted into the skies, turning North and East.

He was woken hours later, Brenda Wilcox offering him something to eat. “You are supposed to be dead” he remarked as he accepted a sandwich and cup of coffee.

Brenda laughed, the mouse settling in beside her employer. “Yes well. I would be. If I hadn’t fainted as her knife came near me. Or if I fought her. As you explained, you had to be certain that I was not an agent. Though Professor, I am still cross with you about that.” She sipped her own coffee, eyeing the back of their pilot. “Jean is an amazing woman sir.”

“All Songmark graduates are amazing Brenda. We will be picking up two more in a few weeks. Then returning. Its six months digging for us, these ladies are our protection. Not workers. I’ve chosen a Chinese girl and one from India. For good reason, as I speak neither language. Jean is familiar with the symbols commonly found on Spontoon and the like.”

“I know Greek and Phoenician, you Latin and Egyptian hieroglyphics. You have chosen us for a very special reason. Sir, there is something about this expedition that you are not telling us.”

“Absolutely correct” the bear admitted after swallowing a mouthful of food. “A great deal. And all will be explained the moment we leave India on our way back. Everything. I cannot expect you to do good work while grasping in the darkness. Now can I.”

“No sir. But the more I think about this, the more that I worry.”

“Best that you do.” He motioned to the mouse, then eased from his seat when she moved back. Making his way to the cockpit he settled down into the co-pilots seat. “Everything on track?”

“Everything as it should be sir” Jean answered. She was relaxed, as the aircraft was set on autopilot the Songmark mouse only glanced at her instruments every few seconds. It was going to be a very long, very boring flight to India. Then a lot of hops to Spontoon. A week or three to relax, then do it all in reverse. At least she would have two co-pilots with her on the way back. Songmark girls all.

“I’ve got something to ask you” the bear continued. Waving at the instrument panel he looked to his pilot. “All on automatic?”

“Yep. She’ll fly straight ahn sound till she runs outta gas.”

“Good. Jean, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. And it scares me to death to say it.”

“Ahm fired? Get tah jump outta tha airplan without’a chute. Aw professor, that’s easy stuff. Any third year learns how tah do that.”

“Actually.” He coughed, looked away a moment, then back to Jean. “Jean, would you marry me?”

“ABOUT DAMN TIME” Brenda yelled from a few dozen feet behind him.

Leroy Marklin winced, Brenda he had discovered had a very, very loud voice. Frightened to look up he was surprised when Jean’s paw touched his chin. Looking up he saw that she was not angry, was not laughing.

“Yeah. I’ll marry yah. Soon as we get tah Spontoon. Noh kiss me yah lunk.”