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fredbassettTitle : A Very Public Problem, Part 3
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Stephen/Ryan, Lester/Lyle, Claudia, Abby, Connor, Ditzy
Rating : 18 (Parts 1 and 4), 15 (Parts 2 and 3)
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : Very minor for S1, Episode 3.
Summary : This really wasn’t Claudia’s idea of a good place for an anomaly.
They drove through a police cordon which had effectively brought the busy town of Weston-super-Mare to a standstill and headed out to the sea front.
“James isn’t going to like this one little bit,” muttered Claudia, weaving slowly between lines of stationary cars, ignoring the irate looks being thrown in their direction..
“Where do you think he is?” asked Abby.
“Your guess is as good as mine. He spent last night at the Hotel with Lyle. Mary Mitchell doesn’t think they’ve gone caving or at least if they have, they haven’t left a call out with her and Jim. She’s phoning a couple of the Club cottages in South Wales, just on the off chance that someone has seen them …………. oh dear God!” Claudia’s words trailed off into an awed whisper.
“Oh wow!” Connor exclaimed from the back of the car. “Just like …. wow!”
Claudia pulled up next to a couple of police cars, each with lights still flashing and somehow managed to pull off her Claudia Brown, Home Office routine, whilst a very public anomaly hovered twenty metres up in the air, some three hundred metres out to sea, with water rushing through it in a foaming cascade, tumbling down in a haze of white, to mingle with the brownish waters of the Bristol Channel.
“Get that boat out of the water!” Claudia ordered, pointing to a bright yellow inshore rescue craft, circling cautiously in the vicinity of the what was probably the world’s most improbable waterfall.
A startled policeman dragged his eyes off the sight and hurried off, talking into his radio.
“Not going to be able to keep this one out of the papers,” said Abby, staring out to sea in fascination.
“It’ll be on U Tube already,” said Connor, snapping several photos with his mobile phone, much to Claudia’s irritation.
“Not helping, Conn,” grinned Stephen.
“There are dead fish washing up on the beach, ma’am,” said Ryan, quietly, lowering his binoculars.
“Blows your salinity theory,” said Abby, nudging Connor in the ribs, and gesturing to him to put his phone away before Claudia rammed it somewhere uncomfortable.
He scowled at her, then went back to staring out to sea.
Five minutes later, just when Claudia felt her day couldn’t possibly get any worse, the Chief Constable arrived. Within a remarkably short space of time, she’d decided that perhaps Sir James Lester wasn’t the most annoying man in creation.
The others watched in growing fascination, torn between staring out at the heaving mass of falling water and watching a clash that was fast approaching King Kong v. Godzilla for sheer entertainment value. While a lively debate on the subject of exclusion zones was still being conducted, a Range Rover containing Ditzy, Finn, Kermit and Fiver pulled up and its occupants spilled out, adding to the general incongruity of the scene, although Ryan was relieved to see that they’d at least left any heavy weaponry concealed in the boot. He really didn’t think Claudia’s blood pressure would take much more aggravation.
“Nice morning for it, Boss,” grinned Ditzy. “Miss Brown didn’t sound overly pleased when I told her we’d heard this on the local radio station as we came over the Severn Crossing.”
“I think she’s had better days,” acknowledged Ryan. “Still no sign of Lester?”
“Nope. My guess is Lyle’s dragged him off for a shag somewhere. They’re probably scaring the local sheep right now.”
“Or they’re out of mobile range.”
“That too. What’s that fat fuck over there doing to wind our Claudia up?”
“Refusing to accept that what he’s calling a water spout can possibly be classed as a matter of national security.”
The men went back to watching the argument.
“……. then I suggest you take your objections direct to the Prime Minister.” finished Claudia, playing her trump card.
“Game, set and match!” announced Connor, in a voice which bore insufficient resemblance to a stage whisper for discretion and which promptly drew an irritated glance from Claudia’s uniformed opponent.
The Chief Constable stalked off and started issuing orders. An equally imperious, but somewhat more victorious Claudia, fixed her audience with a basilisk stare and demanded, “I’d like constructive suggestions, and I’d like them now.”
“We need someone to come up with a cover story,” said Stephen. “Connor, can you get me a number for the Press Office of Bristol University?”
Claudia’s eyebrows shot up.
More publicity wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind.
* * * * *
Trust me, Stephen Hart had said, and Claudia had done, even though it had gone massively against the grain, but then he’d waved a bunch of reporters through the cordon and out onto the sea front itself. An unseemly scrummage followed as cameras clicked and whirred, and journalists jostled for position.
Abby laid a reassuring hand on the other woman’s arm. “I think he knows what he’s doing. He says the guy’s an old friend of Cutter’s. Apparently they were at University together.”
“Why don’t I find that particularly reassuring?” muttered Claudia.
“Something to do with national TV coverage in the offing?” hazarded Connor. “This is well cool. Lester’ll go batshit insane when he finds out.”
At exactly that moment, Claudia’s mobile gave a sharp cheep like an irate canary.
Wondering vaguely when Connor had managed to tamper with it, she flicked her phone case open. “James. You got my messages? Yes, we have a situation on our hands. No, I’m told there’s nothing to worry about, Dr. Hart assures me he has it all under control and to prove it, he’s just finished organising a press conference. Yes, James, I did say a press conference. If you’re anywhere near a television, I imagine you’ll find it most instructive.” A slight smile started to hover round the edges of her mouth. “Yes, well, in the absence of yourself and Professor Cutter, we felt the need to improvise. I’m sorry, James, you’re breaking up ….” and with that, she pressed End Call and exchanged a grin with Connor. “I do believe batshit insane was a fair description, Mr. Temple. Less than pleased would, however, have been a politer way of putting it.”
“Serves him right for going AWOL,” smirked Connor.
“Well, let’s hope that Stephen’s faith in this gentleman isn’t misplaced ….” Claudia exchanged a brief smile with a man of about Cutter’s age who was busy swopping pleasantries with various reporters and film crews, several of whom he obviously knew quite well.
“And now, live from the sea front at Weston-super-Mare, we’ve been joined by Professor Bob Starkie of Bristol University. Professor Starkie, what on earth is it that we’re witnessing here and have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“I have, Jerry, but never round the shores of Britain. What we’re seeing here was last recorded about 15 years ago, off the Brazilian coast of South America. If you guys had given me at bit longer to rummage around in my collection back at the office, I could have brought along some photos. What you’re seeing here is a very rare example of a mesocyclone, which is sucking up the water in a vortex, effectively generating its very own, mini electrical storm. You can see the way the lightening is flashing around the apex of the waterspout, creating the illusion that what you’re watching is actually a waterfall originating right in the middle of a very small cloud.”
With a wave of his arm, and some very professional sounding bullshit that would certainly have got Lester’s approval. Bob Starkie continued to expound on the formation of this particular type of water-spout in a way that had the various reporters eating out of his hand.
After the first two minutes, Claudia started to relax.
By the time the man had finished, his audience had shot enough film to keep their various editors happy and the crowd around him had already started to thin out, as the assembled throng rushed to file their copy. Professor Starkie assured them that there was very little chance of damage to people or property being caused, but he stated quite categorically that he applauded the Chief Constable’s decision to clear the beach and create an exclusion zone along the sea front, just in case a shift in the weather pattern drove the water-spout closer inshore. Keeping boats away from it was also a wise precaution, and he recommended that the general public should be kept some way back for several hours, even after it finally disappeared, just for the sake of safety.
At that point, Claudia’s smile began to break though, and she even considered answering her phone again, but then one of the TV reporters who’d been sporting a pair of small but powerful binoculars noticed the dead fish washing up onto the beach and her heart tried to climb out of her throat again.
Professor Bob Starkie laughed reassuringly. “I think you might find you were a bit stunned if you’d been dragged out of your nice cosy ocean then flung back into it with some considerable force. The poor things probably feel like they’ve just gone through a full cycle in an industrial washing machine.”
Claudia’s heart rate started to fall and she exchanged a quick grin with Stephen.
Cutter’s assistant was lounging next to Ryan against the side of the black Hilux, looking both relaxed and amused. She sidled over to him, muttered, “Excuse me, Captain Ryan,” and planted a kiss right on Stephen’s cheek.
He grinned at her. “I told you Bob could carry it off. The media love him. He was all over the tele during the Gloucestershire floods last summer, and he covered the Boscastle disaster as well. If he says it’s a natural phenomena, the press’ll believe him.”
“Looks like they do,” said Claudia, smiling. “Nice one, Stephen. What did you have to promise him in exchange for this little public relations exercise?”
“A case of his favourite Scotch.” And the truth about what they were witnessing. But it was probably better if Claudia didn’t know that, right at this moment. Stephen was intending to leave that to Cutter to deal with when he got back from Paris. And anyway, telling the truth was rather tied up with actually working out what had been going on themselves, although he was beginning to think that Connor might have been making some headway in that department, judging by the furious way the student had been tapping away on the keyboard of his laptop.
Claudia’s mobile phone let out yet another cheep and this time she deigned to answer it. “Mrs Merrifield?” In seconds her frown was back. “Another one? Good God, where?” In answer to Ryan’s questioning look she mouthed the words, “Chew Valley Lake,” then asked, “Underwater again?” When the answer came back in the affirmative, she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. “I’ll send someone over shortly. In the meantime, the same rules apply. Clear the water and clear the area. No, we don’t know what is causing the incidents and we still haven’t ruled out terrorism so far as the reservoirs are concerned Yes, there is still a total press embargo in force.”
“I know why it’s killing the fish,” said Connor, a deeply troubled expression on his face.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” sighed Claudia.
The student shook his head. “Anoxia.” In response to her puzzled look, he continued, “It means water depleted of oxygen. It’s one of the hypotheses advanced as a possible cause of the end-Permian extinction.”
“Call me Miss Fussy, Connor, but I don’t entirely like the sound of a word like extinction.”
Connor gave her an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”
Stephen gave him a gentle dig in the ribs, “Conn, we’re waiting ….”
“Okay, sorry.” He shuffled his feet, nervously. It was all right coming out with theories with Cutter around to tell him if he was talking nonsense, but with the Professor away for the weekend, he suddenly seemed to have been thrust into centre stage. “Right, well, we know sea levels have risen in the past, and there are some really weird chemical patterns in the rocks just above the Permo-Triassic boundary and ….” he coughed, shuffled his feet and started again, this time trying to remember to breathe while he talked. “Most marine animals are adapted to normal oxygen levels, so if the amount of the oxygen in the water drops too low, they’ll suffocate.”
“Shit,” breathed Stephen, a frown drawing his eyebrows even closer together. “So we’ve got a series of Cutter’s fault-line anomalies opening up, pouring out oxygen depleted water from the rising seas of a fucking great big extinction event. Wonderful.”
“Still not liking the E word, Hart,” said Ryan, exchanging glances with Claudia.
“Won’t do much for the fishing industry, if it carries on,” said Connor, with brittle humour, “but look on the bright side, at least it means we’re highly unlikely to get anything nasty swimming through and joining the party.”
“I’ll tell James he can be thankful for small mercies, shall I?” said Claudia, pulling her cheeping phone out of her pocket with great reluctance. “Yes,” she said, in reply to the voice at the other end, “it went rather well, didn’t it? I’ll pass your congratulations onto Stephen, shall I, James?” She caught Stephen’s eye and winked. It wasn’t often that anyone got one over on Lester, and she was determined to enjoy it, in spite of the presence of a large waterfall being photographed for posterity by countless numbers of tourists enjoying a day out in the sunshine.
She then proceeded to outline Connor’s theory, and threw in the sting in the tail of the third anomaly, just for good measure.
The call ended abruptly. Lester would be with them sometime in the next two hours.
She dispatched Connor with Ditzy and Kermit to the new anomaly site.
The rest of them settled down to watch and wait.
* * * * *
Six hours after it had first appeared, water was still pouring through the anomaly in an unabated torrent.
Dead fish continued to be brought in by the tide, washed up like forlorn driftwood.
Lester had arrived, and as ever, Claudia had done a double-take at the sight of him in jeans and a tee shirt, looking almost as and scruffy as his boyfriend. The Chief Constable, who’d insisted on staying to meet the person he’d patronisingly insisted on calling her boss, seemed less than impressed to find himself talking to someone who clearly hadn’t shaved since the previous morning.
Lyle leant on the iron railings which led down to the beach and stared out across the dark sand. “So, it’s still going strong. Any idea how much water has come through since it opened?”
Ryan shrugged. “Hart’s tame expert could probably give you a fair estimate. Seems like the guy knows just about everything there is to know about water. I could probably sum it up pretty accurately, though, without too much bullshit.”
Lyle raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“Two bloody much,” interjected Stephen, leaning on the rail next to them. “If it carries on like this, even Bob Starkie is going to run out of enough pseudo-science to keep the press at bay.”
“How long have we got him for?” asked Lyle, glancing appraisingly at the greying, slightly tubby professor, who was still doing a good job of entertaining the remaining reporters.
“As long as it takes. He and Cutter go way back. Shared a room at Uni.”
Lyle’s grin widened.
“You’ve got a dirty mind, Jon,” remarked Lester, running a hand lightly down his lover’s bare arm. “If that thing stays put much longer, I’m beginning to think we might end up testing the fabled broad-mindedness, or lack thereof, of Britain’s seaside landladies.”
“A no expense spared night in Weston-super-Mud?” Lyle whistled appreciatively through his teeth. “You spoil me, darling.”
The sudden cheep of Claudia’s phone cut across the quiet of early evening. “Connor? ……. It has? ……. Good news. Yes, if you’re certain, come back over here, but check in on the one at Blagdon Lake on the way back, please, just to be sure.”
“Two down, one to go,” muttered Lester.
“It’s not showing any signs of weakening,” said a fresh voice. “It really would be helpful if it would shift along the coast a bit. If it stays in one place like this much longer, even the BBC might start to ask a few difficult questions.”
“Would a large research grant help you find some answers, Professor?” asked Lester.
“Large research grants are always helpful, Sir James,” said Professor Starkie, blandly.
“Splendid. Miss Brown will be only too pleased to arrange one for you. Bristol University’s Department of Hydrology and Water Management clearly has a vital role to play in furthering our understanding of ……… water-spouts.”
“I have already signed the Official Secrets Act, by the way.”
Lester’s smile broadened. “That’ll certainly cut down on the paperwork for the grant. And if you’re still here tomorrow morning, I’ll make it half a dozen cases of scotch.”
“I might need it as an aid to creativity,” sighed Bob Starkie. “They’re talking about doing a slot on the Richard and Judy show tomorrow.”
Lester winced.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Stephen/Ryan, Lester/Lyle, Claudia, Abby, Connor, Ditzy
Rating : 18 (Parts 1 and 4), 15 (Parts 2 and 3)
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : Very minor for S1, Episode 3.
Summary : This really wasn’t Claudia’s idea of a good place for an anomaly.
They drove through a police cordon which had effectively brought the busy town of Weston-super-Mare to a standstill and headed out to the sea front.
“James isn’t going to like this one little bit,” muttered Claudia, weaving slowly between lines of stationary cars, ignoring the irate looks being thrown in their direction..
“Where do you think he is?” asked Abby.
“Your guess is as good as mine. He spent last night at the Hotel with Lyle. Mary Mitchell doesn’t think they’ve gone caving or at least if they have, they haven’t left a call out with her and Jim. She’s phoning a couple of the Club cottages in South Wales, just on the off chance that someone has seen them …………. oh dear God!” Claudia’s words trailed off into an awed whisper.
“Oh wow!” Connor exclaimed from the back of the car. “Just like …. wow!”
Claudia pulled up next to a couple of police cars, each with lights still flashing and somehow managed to pull off her Claudia Brown, Home Office routine, whilst a very public anomaly hovered twenty metres up in the air, some three hundred metres out to sea, with water rushing through it in a foaming cascade, tumbling down in a haze of white, to mingle with the brownish waters of the Bristol Channel.
“Get that boat out of the water!” Claudia ordered, pointing to a bright yellow inshore rescue craft, circling cautiously in the vicinity of the what was probably the world’s most improbable waterfall.
A startled policeman dragged his eyes off the sight and hurried off, talking into his radio.
“Not going to be able to keep this one out of the papers,” said Abby, staring out to sea in fascination.
“It’ll be on U Tube already,” said Connor, snapping several photos with his mobile phone, much to Claudia’s irritation.
“Not helping, Conn,” grinned Stephen.
“There are dead fish washing up on the beach, ma’am,” said Ryan, quietly, lowering his binoculars.
“Blows your salinity theory,” said Abby, nudging Connor in the ribs, and gesturing to him to put his phone away before Claudia rammed it somewhere uncomfortable.
He scowled at her, then went back to staring out to sea.
Five minutes later, just when Claudia felt her day couldn’t possibly get any worse, the Chief Constable arrived. Within a remarkably short space of time, she’d decided that perhaps Sir James Lester wasn’t the most annoying man in creation.
The others watched in growing fascination, torn between staring out at the heaving mass of falling water and watching a clash that was fast approaching King Kong v. Godzilla for sheer entertainment value. While a lively debate on the subject of exclusion zones was still being conducted, a Range Rover containing Ditzy, Finn, Kermit and Fiver pulled up and its occupants spilled out, adding to the general incongruity of the scene, although Ryan was relieved to see that they’d at least left any heavy weaponry concealed in the boot. He really didn’t think Claudia’s blood pressure would take much more aggravation.
“Nice morning for it, Boss,” grinned Ditzy. “Miss Brown didn’t sound overly pleased when I told her we’d heard this on the local radio station as we came over the Severn Crossing.”
“I think she’s had better days,” acknowledged Ryan. “Still no sign of Lester?”
“Nope. My guess is Lyle’s dragged him off for a shag somewhere. They’re probably scaring the local sheep right now.”
“Or they’re out of mobile range.”
“That too. What’s that fat fuck over there doing to wind our Claudia up?”
“Refusing to accept that what he’s calling a water spout can possibly be classed as a matter of national security.”
The men went back to watching the argument.
“……. then I suggest you take your objections direct to the Prime Minister.” finished Claudia, playing her trump card.
“Game, set and match!” announced Connor, in a voice which bore insufficient resemblance to a stage whisper for discretion and which promptly drew an irritated glance from Claudia’s uniformed opponent.
The Chief Constable stalked off and started issuing orders. An equally imperious, but somewhat more victorious Claudia, fixed her audience with a basilisk stare and demanded, “I’d like constructive suggestions, and I’d like them now.”
“We need someone to come up with a cover story,” said Stephen. “Connor, can you get me a number for the Press Office of Bristol University?”
Claudia’s eyebrows shot up.
More publicity wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind.
* * * * *
Trust me, Stephen Hart had said, and Claudia had done, even though it had gone massively against the grain, but then he’d waved a bunch of reporters through the cordon and out onto the sea front itself. An unseemly scrummage followed as cameras clicked and whirred, and journalists jostled for position.
Abby laid a reassuring hand on the other woman’s arm. “I think he knows what he’s doing. He says the guy’s an old friend of Cutter’s. Apparently they were at University together.”
“Why don’t I find that particularly reassuring?” muttered Claudia.
“Something to do with national TV coverage in the offing?” hazarded Connor. “This is well cool. Lester’ll go batshit insane when he finds out.”
At exactly that moment, Claudia’s mobile gave a sharp cheep like an irate canary.
Wondering vaguely when Connor had managed to tamper with it, she flicked her phone case open. “James. You got my messages? Yes, we have a situation on our hands. No, I’m told there’s nothing to worry about, Dr. Hart assures me he has it all under control and to prove it, he’s just finished organising a press conference. Yes, James, I did say a press conference. If you’re anywhere near a television, I imagine you’ll find it most instructive.” A slight smile started to hover round the edges of her mouth. “Yes, well, in the absence of yourself and Professor Cutter, we felt the need to improvise. I’m sorry, James, you’re breaking up ….” and with that, she pressed End Call and exchanged a grin with Connor. “I do believe batshit insane was a fair description, Mr. Temple. Less than pleased would, however, have been a politer way of putting it.”
“Serves him right for going AWOL,” smirked Connor.
“Well, let’s hope that Stephen’s faith in this gentleman isn’t misplaced ….” Claudia exchanged a brief smile with a man of about Cutter’s age who was busy swopping pleasantries with various reporters and film crews, several of whom he obviously knew quite well.
“And now, live from the sea front at Weston-super-Mare, we’ve been joined by Professor Bob Starkie of Bristol University. Professor Starkie, what on earth is it that we’re witnessing here and have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“I have, Jerry, but never round the shores of Britain. What we’re seeing here was last recorded about 15 years ago, off the Brazilian coast of South America. If you guys had given me at bit longer to rummage around in my collection back at the office, I could have brought along some photos. What you’re seeing here is a very rare example of a mesocyclone, which is sucking up the water in a vortex, effectively generating its very own, mini electrical storm. You can see the way the lightening is flashing around the apex of the waterspout, creating the illusion that what you’re watching is actually a waterfall originating right in the middle of a very small cloud.”
With a wave of his arm, and some very professional sounding bullshit that would certainly have got Lester’s approval. Bob Starkie continued to expound on the formation of this particular type of water-spout in a way that had the various reporters eating out of his hand.
After the first two minutes, Claudia started to relax.
By the time the man had finished, his audience had shot enough film to keep their various editors happy and the crowd around him had already started to thin out, as the assembled throng rushed to file their copy. Professor Starkie assured them that there was very little chance of damage to people or property being caused, but he stated quite categorically that he applauded the Chief Constable’s decision to clear the beach and create an exclusion zone along the sea front, just in case a shift in the weather pattern drove the water-spout closer inshore. Keeping boats away from it was also a wise precaution, and he recommended that the general public should be kept some way back for several hours, even after it finally disappeared, just for the sake of safety.
At that point, Claudia’s smile began to break though, and she even considered answering her phone again, but then one of the TV reporters who’d been sporting a pair of small but powerful binoculars noticed the dead fish washing up onto the beach and her heart tried to climb out of her throat again.
Professor Bob Starkie laughed reassuringly. “I think you might find you were a bit stunned if you’d been dragged out of your nice cosy ocean then flung back into it with some considerable force. The poor things probably feel like they’ve just gone through a full cycle in an industrial washing machine.”
Claudia’s heart rate started to fall and she exchanged a quick grin with Stephen.
Cutter’s assistant was lounging next to Ryan against the side of the black Hilux, looking both relaxed and amused. She sidled over to him, muttered, “Excuse me, Captain Ryan,” and planted a kiss right on Stephen’s cheek.
He grinned at her. “I told you Bob could carry it off. The media love him. He was all over the tele during the Gloucestershire floods last summer, and he covered the Boscastle disaster as well. If he says it’s a natural phenomena, the press’ll believe him.”
“Looks like they do,” said Claudia, smiling. “Nice one, Stephen. What did you have to promise him in exchange for this little public relations exercise?”
“A case of his favourite Scotch.” And the truth about what they were witnessing. But it was probably better if Claudia didn’t know that, right at this moment. Stephen was intending to leave that to Cutter to deal with when he got back from Paris. And anyway, telling the truth was rather tied up with actually working out what had been going on themselves, although he was beginning to think that Connor might have been making some headway in that department, judging by the furious way the student had been tapping away on the keyboard of his laptop.
Claudia’s mobile phone let out yet another cheep and this time she deigned to answer it. “Mrs Merrifield?” In seconds her frown was back. “Another one? Good God, where?” In answer to Ryan’s questioning look she mouthed the words, “Chew Valley Lake,” then asked, “Underwater again?” When the answer came back in the affirmative, she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. “I’ll send someone over shortly. In the meantime, the same rules apply. Clear the water and clear the area. No, we don’t know what is causing the incidents and we still haven’t ruled out terrorism so far as the reservoirs are concerned Yes, there is still a total press embargo in force.”
“I know why it’s killing the fish,” said Connor, a deeply troubled expression on his face.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” sighed Claudia.
The student shook his head. “Anoxia.” In response to her puzzled look, he continued, “It means water depleted of oxygen. It’s one of the hypotheses advanced as a possible cause of the end-Permian extinction.”
“Call me Miss Fussy, Connor, but I don’t entirely like the sound of a word like extinction.”
Connor gave her an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”
Stephen gave him a gentle dig in the ribs, “Conn, we’re waiting ….”
“Okay, sorry.” He shuffled his feet, nervously. It was all right coming out with theories with Cutter around to tell him if he was talking nonsense, but with the Professor away for the weekend, he suddenly seemed to have been thrust into centre stage. “Right, well, we know sea levels have risen in the past, and there are some really weird chemical patterns in the rocks just above the Permo-Triassic boundary and ….” he coughed, shuffled his feet and started again, this time trying to remember to breathe while he talked. “Most marine animals are adapted to normal oxygen levels, so if the amount of the oxygen in the water drops too low, they’ll suffocate.”
“Shit,” breathed Stephen, a frown drawing his eyebrows even closer together. “So we’ve got a series of Cutter’s fault-line anomalies opening up, pouring out oxygen depleted water from the rising seas of a fucking great big extinction event. Wonderful.”
“Still not liking the E word, Hart,” said Ryan, exchanging glances with Claudia.
“Won’t do much for the fishing industry, if it carries on,” said Connor, with brittle humour, “but look on the bright side, at least it means we’re highly unlikely to get anything nasty swimming through and joining the party.”
“I’ll tell James he can be thankful for small mercies, shall I?” said Claudia, pulling her cheeping phone out of her pocket with great reluctance. “Yes,” she said, in reply to the voice at the other end, “it went rather well, didn’t it? I’ll pass your congratulations onto Stephen, shall I, James?” She caught Stephen’s eye and winked. It wasn’t often that anyone got one over on Lester, and she was determined to enjoy it, in spite of the presence of a large waterfall being photographed for posterity by countless numbers of tourists enjoying a day out in the sunshine.
She then proceeded to outline Connor’s theory, and threw in the sting in the tail of the third anomaly, just for good measure.
The call ended abruptly. Lester would be with them sometime in the next two hours.
She dispatched Connor with Ditzy and Kermit to the new anomaly site.
The rest of them settled down to watch and wait.
* * * * *
Six hours after it had first appeared, water was still pouring through the anomaly in an unabated torrent.
Dead fish continued to be brought in by the tide, washed up like forlorn driftwood.
Lester had arrived, and as ever, Claudia had done a double-take at the sight of him in jeans and a tee shirt, looking almost as and scruffy as his boyfriend. The Chief Constable, who’d insisted on staying to meet the person he’d patronisingly insisted on calling her boss, seemed less than impressed to find himself talking to someone who clearly hadn’t shaved since the previous morning.
Lyle leant on the iron railings which led down to the beach and stared out across the dark sand. “So, it’s still going strong. Any idea how much water has come through since it opened?”
Ryan shrugged. “Hart’s tame expert could probably give you a fair estimate. Seems like the guy knows just about everything there is to know about water. I could probably sum it up pretty accurately, though, without too much bullshit.”
Lyle raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“Two bloody much,” interjected Stephen, leaning on the rail next to them. “If it carries on like this, even Bob Starkie is going to run out of enough pseudo-science to keep the press at bay.”
“How long have we got him for?” asked Lyle, glancing appraisingly at the greying, slightly tubby professor, who was still doing a good job of entertaining the remaining reporters.
“As long as it takes. He and Cutter go way back. Shared a room at Uni.”
Lyle’s grin widened.
“You’ve got a dirty mind, Jon,” remarked Lester, running a hand lightly down his lover’s bare arm. “If that thing stays put much longer, I’m beginning to think we might end up testing the fabled broad-mindedness, or lack thereof, of Britain’s seaside landladies.”
“A no expense spared night in Weston-super-Mud?” Lyle whistled appreciatively through his teeth. “You spoil me, darling.”
The sudden cheep of Claudia’s phone cut across the quiet of early evening. “Connor? ……. It has? ……. Good news. Yes, if you’re certain, come back over here, but check in on the one at Blagdon Lake on the way back, please, just to be sure.”
“Two down, one to go,” muttered Lester.
“It’s not showing any signs of weakening,” said a fresh voice. “It really would be helpful if it would shift along the coast a bit. If it stays in one place like this much longer, even the BBC might start to ask a few difficult questions.”
“Would a large research grant help you find some answers, Professor?” asked Lester.
“Large research grants are always helpful, Sir James,” said Professor Starkie, blandly.
“Splendid. Miss Brown will be only too pleased to arrange one for you. Bristol University’s Department of Hydrology and Water Management clearly has a vital role to play in furthering our understanding of ……… water-spouts.”
“I have already signed the Official Secrets Act, by the way.”
Lester’s smile broadened. “That’ll certainly cut down on the paperwork for the grant. And if you’re still here tomorrow morning, I’ll make it half a dozen cases of scotch.”
“I might need it as an aid to creativity,” sighed Bob Starkie. “They’re talking about doing a slot on the Richard and Judy show tomorrow.”
Lester winced.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:07 pm (UTC)I love this! It had me laughing my ass off.
Stephen's idea to keep the press off their backs by having a press confernance, exceptionally ingenius of him, or insane, still not sure, was funny thou.
Claudia telling Lester about the press conferance *sniggers* it so totally does serve him right for going awol, on the other hand if she were him, would she rather be in Weston-super-Mud watching a sparkly light show or playing with Lyle, I know where I'd rather be! lol
Another great part!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:17 pm (UTC)I imagine Claudia was more than a little apprehensive!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:28 pm (UTC)I think this is my favourite part, so far, of this story! From the team's reaction to a sparkly waterfall 60ft up over the ocean, to the King Kong vs Godzilla reference, to everyone's nervous reaction to the 'E' word. And the Chief Constable's reaction to finally meeting the Man from the Ministry was wonderful.
But Bob Starkie almost stole the show. *g*
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:35 pm (UTC)I think a jeans clad, unshaven Lester wouldn't have been quite what the CC had been expecting.
I just wonder how I'll explain it at a Uni do, if the Prof I modelled him on ever gets wind of this. *grins*
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:14 pm (UTC)(still me, by the way, though you're probably one of the people round here least likely to be confused by my dual identity)
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 04:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 05:05 pm (UTC)Prof Starkie is wonderful, and I sporfled at the "fat fuck" chief constable.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 05:20 pm (UTC)Absolutely bloody wonderful!!
Loved Claudia (and her thank you kiss to Stephen *bg*), Lester looking scruffy in a jeans and tee shirt about killed my poor little heart and Stephen's suggestion was brilliant!
*happy sigh* *thinks she needs to have a scruffy!Lester icon*
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:16 pm (UTC)I would give quite a lot to see an unshaven Lester in jeans and tee shirt!!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 05:55 pm (UTC)And I can totally see Colin Port arguing with Claudia and losing *g*
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:03 pm (UTC)And your OCs are fabulous as well.
My favourite bit - Connor's not so whispered aside!
Hee!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 07:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 07:35 pm (UTC)I'm really loving Claudia in this - she doesn't get enough love, and you're doing a great job with her. Ditzy's little our Claudia comment was quite sweet - nice bit of team solidarity!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 09:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 11:40 pm (UTC)Is utterly wonderful.
*nods*
no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 12:16 am (UTC)I loved Stephen using the academic old-boy network to their advantage (and Claudia's excuse me to Ryan was highly entertaining.)
But I have to ask, any chance of a drabble or ficlet of the exchange between the police idiot and our wonderful snarky Sir James Lester? With sotto voce commentary by the soldiers? Pwease? It's all your own fault you know, you write such fabulous sarcastic exchanges between them all, and your Lester is even cooler than the canon one!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 02:56 pm (UTC)LOL, that excahnge might well be a fun one to write, but I might just have to leave it to your imagination!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 12:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-18 12:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-18 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-18 11:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-15 07:09 pm (UTC)Amazing! Brilliant idea, I love Starkie, and scruffy!Lester is a yummy thought... *flutters onward in a hurry*
(Although I did notice a slight typo: "Two bloody much," should be Too, yes? ;P)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-16 08:15 am (UTC)Ooops, thanks.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-16 01:24 pm (UTC)Ta. ^^
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Date: 2010-12-02 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-02 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-05 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-06 12:08 pm (UTC)