C-1: Dr. Regina Frost [Carolyn T.]

Dr. Regina Frost

Dr. Regina Frost never expected to find herself careening through space and time in a glorified tin can. The renowned geneticist had wanted nothing more than to spend her days, working quietly in her lab, writing research papers and, now and then, popping out for tea (Earl Grey, hot). Space exploration came as a surprise. And if there was one thing Dr. Frost didn’t like, it was surprises.

There was little choice, of course, after the misunderstanding at the lab. Still, even after six years, there were mornings when Reg woke up, untethered herself from her cot, floated to the lavatory and knocked her head against the flimsy room divider in utter confoundment. How, how did this happen? She had salvaged what research she could, and packed a few vital, portable pieces of equipment. But, having left in haste, she was forced to leave much behind. She still experienced paroxysms of regret at the thought, to say nothing of the guilt she felt for what happened to Betty.

Lifelong friends, Betty and Reg had done everything together. Until six years ago, this mostly meant spelunking and making prank phone calls to the jerks at the Ministry of Transportation where Betty worked. Sure, Betty sometimes convinced Reg to spend the night camped out in the woods on one of her cryptoid stakeouts (or as Betty preferred to call it, her Qwatch ‘research’), but that was about as far-out as it got. Now they were stuck fleeing for their lives, one a real-life monster, the other, a broken shell of a woman. And this time, it was Reg’s fault.

She had done her best of course, but that didn't matter now. The cold, hard fact was that even the famous Dr. Frost couldn’t pull off this particular transformation. But what choice had she had? She had to do something; Betty's disease was terminal and advancing quickly. Only Reg had the expertise to attempt the life-saving procedure. Betty, of course, had known and accepted the risks of such a highly experimental operation - Reg had made sure of that - but that was cold comfort now.

That ghastly day ran through her mind once again in full, technicolor glory: The final, grueling hours of the operation, the terrible realization when it all went wrong, the look on her lab assistant's face when he walked in unexpectedly, the pursuit by police and government goons - all played through her head like a bad, made-for-T.V. movie, just like it had done so many times before.

Reg hadn't planned any of it of course – the whole thing was a crime of opportunity, committed in a state of panic, with no real conviction that she would get away with it. They were just plain lucky that the shuttle had been there. After Jude walked in on the procedure, she knew she had to act quickly. Betty was still unconscious, so she grabbed what equipment she could, threw it in a bin, piled it on Betty’s twisted form and wheeled the gurney as fast as she could away from the lab. It was then that she remembered the shuttle.

It was parked in a high-security hangar within the research complex and - best of all - she had the code to get in! A hapless but good-hearted technician from Engineering named Linus had given it to her without meaning to the week before. He had been showing off and brought her in to the hangar for an exclusive look around. He made a great flourish of punching in the top secret access code, not realizing that Reg had a photographic memory. Reg was not overly interested at the time, neither in the shuttle nor in poor Linus, but she did remember the code.

She spun the gurney around and made for the hangar at top speed.

That's when it all went wrong...well, more wrong. The code worked, but once inside she realized that she wasn’t alone, the team of scientists responsible for the shuttle was on site, running a test sequence. Reg panicked and headed for the first door she saw, which happened to be the door to the shuttle itself. Sirens started to blare, lights started to flash, befuddled scientists rushed toward the craft, arms flailing wildly. The last thing Reg saw was Linus' stricken face trying to form a word; she slammed the shuttle door shut before she could see what it was. It didn't matter - there were no words adequate to the situation.

Reg locked the door hastily behind her as her heart plummeted. Her bowels turned to ice and an eviscerating chill crept cell by cell through her body. Beads of icy sweat covered her skin. This was it; no getting away now. She collapsed into chair and banged her head against the control panel in frustrated resignation.

What happened next was a surprise - the first of many that Reg would experience in the shuttle. As she banged her head hopelessly against the control panel, new lights began to flash. Suddenly, the sound of sirens was drowned out by an impossibly loud, otherworldly WHOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHH. Reg felt a violent whirling sensation - like battling an electric eel in a vacuum cleaner. She crumbled to the floor, threw up on herself, and regretted being born.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. All was quiet and still.

After a moment of silent self-flagellation, Reg placed her hand on the shuttle door and took a deep breath. She steeled herself for what was to come. She had violated every code of ethics she had ever sworn to uphold. She had conducted an unauthorized and dangerous medical procedure on a human subject using tens of thousands of dollars worth of government resources. She had broken into, occupied and, quite likely, broken a top-secret, experimental spacecraft. Worst of all, she had turned her best friend into a bumblebee. But there was no running from all of this. The horrible truth would always find her. It was time to face her fate.

She turned the lock, opened the door and stepped outside.

As she braced herself for the inevitable assault of security personnel and angry rocket scientists, she registered a loud, rhythmic THA-RUMP. Probably the sound of a broken, multi-billion-dollar shuttle, she thought despairingly. She waited a moment or two to be knocked down and cuffed, but the assault never came. She realized with a start that she had her eyes closed. She opened them. Slowly. When she did, she saw that the hangar, the scientists, the government goons, were nowhere in sight. Instead, it was nighttime and she was in a swamp.

But this was no ordinary swamp. It was an otherwise ordinary swamp in which everything was unnaturally large. The jurassic vegetation dwarfed even the shuttle with its' gargantuan proportions. Suddenly, the explanation for the loud THA-RUMPing was clear - it was a chorus of bullfrogs. Hundreds of them. All the size of goats.

Then it dawned on her. The shuttle - Why was it top secret? We've been sending shuttles into space for decades. That technology is old. This shuttle was so secret that it didn't even exist officially. But why? The truth hit her like an angry mob of rocket scientists - it was inter-dimensional. That had to be it. It was a space shuttle with inter-dimensional capabilities and Reg had stolen it.

Just as this new horror was settling in, Reg was greeted by a light, but somehow familiar, Texas drawl.

"Thank God you're here, ma'am!"

She turned slowly and was met by an unlikely sight. On a gigantic, green, lily pad in the middle of the water sat a hulking, blonde, shirtless man in tight, black pants. Reg jumped back and issued a yelp of surprise. Things really are bigger in Texas, she thought. The man continued to stare at her hopefully. She took took off her glasses, wiped them, and replaced them on her face. No, that didn't help. The mysterious - and apparently amphibious - man was still there, sitting on lily pad, with no shirt.

"Please don't be afraid ma'am, I been waiting here a real long time for someone like you to come along."

Reg took another deep breath and strained to get a better look. A niggling idea was tugging at the back of her mind. Could it be? No, how could it? But, the similarities are so striking! She took a few steps toward the inter-dimensional amphibi-man. Maybe, just maybe...I mean crazier things have happened today. But, my God - how could it be?! She allowed her eyes to focus and drank in the wavy mullet hairstyle and rippling physique. Yes, there was no denying it.

"Patrick Swayze," said Reg, with only the hint of a question in her voice, "I think you better come with me."

"Yes, ma'am!" And with that, he sprung with frog-like agility off the lily pad and dove into the still waters of the swamp, water glistening on his tanned skin, as the muscles tautened with the effort of each stroke.

To be continued...