James and Miranda are down the night club having a boogie to some really hard sounds, it's not the sort of place they frequent. Everyone else is wearing the same sort of clothes all complementing eachother, and they're almost all male. James and Miranda have made an effort to wear that sort of clothes from their normal (using the term loosely) stuff, but it doesn't come off that well. Neither of them look too out of place, but together, going as a couple, they really stick out. Miranda is wearing a clingy top with thin shoulder straps, and the music is booming.

James: Isn't this ace?

Miranda: Er. I can't really dance like this as well as you can.

James: Coarse you can, you look ace.

Miranda: And everyone's looking at us.

James: Well that's they're problem. Adds to the whole ambience though eh?

Miranda: Hmmm.

Frame more boogying.

Miranda: We couldn't leave now could we? I 'm really not enjoying it.

James: What?

Miranda: The accoustics in here are fantastic.

Both laugh a bit.

Then you see them walking out. They have to squeeze down this corridor with blokes on either side supping from bottles, looking at them. James goes down first.

Hard Nut: Do you not like it here then darlin'?

Tense steps past them as they both ignore them. As Miranda passes Hard Nut he pulls the strap down off her shoulder and her breast falls out. She runs out past James crying. He follows. All the blokes are cackling.

Hard Nut: Cute ass. Both of them!

They run through the door to get out of the disco. Seeings as this is a dream, the other side of the door is the police station. Make it clear that the police station and the disco are connected by looking back from the police station at Miranda just through the door, James just approaching the door, and the Greebos at the end of the long corridor laughing to themselves.

Next scene is back in the disco with the booming sounds in the foreground. The boyz from the corridor are all lined up the other side of a walkway around the edge of the dancefloor. James enters with a handful of police following him. He goes along the walkway, stops opposite Hard Nut then turns and looks straight at him. Hard Nut looks first at the police to the side of him, then bricking himself, straight at James. James's face breaks out into an excited revengeful beam as he points at Hard Nut, looks at the police, and then waves his arm from side to side across the whole group implecating them.

This is when the boom, boom becomes the boom, boom of his alarm. The room is in immaculate condition (clean) and everything conceivable has a label stuck to it (mirror, hairbrush, notepaper, shaver, shaver lead, shaver foil, label, etc. etc. to ridiculous lengths) including two jars labeled: Zits and Nails. For the whole of this section absolutely everything on Exmod II is labeled. There is a table with a pink carnation in water on it. Puter flashes up the time (14:23.)

James is fully clothed and sitting almost straight upwards in an armchair with his head slightly angled. He awakens slowly.

James: OK.

He stands up and walks to the lift and gets out on one of the agriculture floors which has a particularly high roof. When walking about he keeps close to walls and speeds across openings.

James approaches a work desk and pushes the button on it. He then speeds over to the column where the sectors of plants come down. Looking up, at first the very top layer spins around slowly for a while. Then there is no apparent movement but gradually you can see the tray come down from right at the top. Spend an inordinate amount of time showing this. The tray then swings over James's head and James walks underneath it until he reaches the workbench. The tray slowly lowers down onto the bench. On the tray, perfectly arranged are x carnations (I can't be bothered to find out how long it takes them to grow, sort that one yourself) at every stage of development from a simple finger mark in the soil where a seed has been planted, right up until the flower in full bloom, and then on to decay with many faded dried petals and very dark stems. They are all just one flower on a stem, and they are in a row of two. One of these rows stops at the plant most fully in bloom, while the other one carries on into decay.

First, James picks up a tool and manually fertilizes the most developed flower (labeled 'Beauty') of the truncated row to the equivalent one on the full row (or one a couple of days either way from it depending on the carnations' sex life. You can find that out at the same time). Use such an angle that shows James has a stonking hard on at this point. Picking up two seeds from an Atlantic one of the dying plants, he plants them in the next logical free places in the tray at the end of the rows that spiral inwards on the tray, next to the seeds planted yesterday.

The label is taken from the plant with it and placed on the plant next to it on the same row a day younger than it. Then he cuts the first plant and pushes the button again that takes the tray back up to the top level and around. He takes the carnation up with him to his room where it is then placed with the one already in his room.

Starting with his top half James removes all his clothes and arranges them neatly on the bed. When he takes his trousers off a large ugly scab is revealed on the upper half of his left shin. There is a pubic hair streached out across the scab set into it and held at both ends with a length of thin tape. The stonking quorndon that is bearly being held in by the skids is released soon enough. He takes the tape off the ends of the hair in the scab. The electric shaver then comes out and he shaves the stubble from both his legs, really dwelling on this and enjoying it. No direct touching of the mammouth member, but allowing his arm to stroke against it as the shaver goes up and down his thighs. From one of James's draws he gets out a black suspender belt, fishnet stockings, skimpy G-string and high heels putting them on one by one in that order. Then he gets a clip on dangly earing made up of white beads getting wider as it gets lower, and puts it on his left earlobe.

He picks up the older carnation, a small container lined with a furry soft material, and the tape he used for keeping the pube in the scab on his leg. Very surefootedly, he walks up several stories into the auditorum. A few seats from a couple of rows have been removed from the centre leaving enough area and a step for James to sit down. He does so, removes his G-string, and stares towards the screen which is displaying the time for about ten seconds before it turns three O'clock. The screen lightens up and starts showing a video of beautiful women in one piece clinging bodysuits. Each successive woman has a small area missing from the garment reveiling a tantilizing piece of their body. No nipples or pubic hair, just soft smooth curves of skin from the edge of breasts, the top of the bottom, the bottom of the belly to one side etc., all very erotic.

James gets the lined container and places it lightly over his hardness. Gently and slowly he spins it back and forth only a few degrees. Several women go by until he throws his head back and closes his eyes in ecstasy for a couple of frames.

James (opening his eyes and shouting agressively): Not Miranda. No, not Miranda.

Settling down, he carries on gradually getting higher and higher, holding his breath for long periods and snorting periodically. Fractionally before climax he stops, pulling the container from his knob. A couple of spasmodic convulsions are surpressed and he stops the ejuculation. He undoes the left suspender pulling the stocking down loose at his ankle. Grabbing both sides of the hair and pulling, the scab is removed and blood starts to form there almost immediately. Holding the scab by one side of the hair it is placed in his mouth, chewed and swallowed.

A new pube is plucked from his thatch and placed in the new blood and taped at both sides. By this time his cock has gone more (although not completely) flacid. The masturbation is restarted and he returns his attention to the video. This time however, it is taken fractionally further before he removes the lid, picking up the carnation in his left hand and spunking into it in 3 or 4 giant pulsating spurts.

After relaxing for a moment but with his body still having the odd convulsion, he runs his finger up the far side of his cock to get any spunk that remains in the end of it onto the carnation, which is already dripping onto his left hand.

James then goes into spasms once again. Although it might appear to be from his orgasm at first, this time he's crying. His eyes turn red and tears roll down his face. A couple of frames of tears.

James: Take the hair off. Go on. You wouldn't have to do any of this if you just pulled that hair off now. Go on do it. Why not? It's not that much of journey into the unknown is it? Yes I suppose it is you mad bastard. Just think what it'd by like if you pulled that hair off now. You could take all those fucking labels off everywhere, grow and eat properly, make a video of your life here for when you get back for TV, learn. All you've got to loose is some false security that you've built for yourself.
 

KC1 M's letter to J about her and Dill
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She writes it in her own hand.

Dear James,

Men. I just don't know where to start. Although we were really close, I thought I should go and see Dill, seeings as he saw a very different side of you than I did. So that I can prepare properly for your return, we went out for a drink together to discuss you and got on really well. Well, too well really. I know I haven't enjoyed soneone's company so much since you left, way back then when I was young and innocent.

We stood outside the pub in the dark, waiting for our respective buses, but it just wasn't to be. I don't know, we just both understood what was going to happen, it was just so right. All night we'd been laughing and joking together: getting closer and closer. When we got outside, we just folded into eachother perfectly. It was just such fun. Both buses were waved on, and we spent hours just walking and snogging like teenagers. I suppose you know that he's been married for some time too. But neither of us were bothered. That night was to be just for us. Just two people finding eachother, the same as it always has been and always will be.

I'll never forget the night, not if I never see him again, not if I forget everything else I've ever done. We kissed and laughed and hugged. Nothing more physical. It was just so beautiful.

It was the early hours of St. Valentine's day when we eventually fell to sleep in eachother's arms in an hotel room. It's just such a cliche/ that it happened then, but it's true. Just as true as on Feb. 14th six years ago when I spent the whole night crying on and off about life (meaning men) just not working out for me, and wondering how it could ever go right.

That's all the romance in my heart now, but I'm left with the mess that's in my head. By the morning we'd already moved a foot apart from eachother, finally admitting to ourselves that there are other considerations. Other people in the world apart from ourselves. Richard. Dear Richard. Would I have made it through to today without taking my life without him? I know you can't tell, but I wouldn't be surprised if I had ended it. He gave me a source of love and a purpose in life: a home. Even a destination, in James, for my emotion. Am I going to throw that away for one night? I've only seen Dill that once so far, but the will is there to see him again, to find out more and discover him. I've forced R to give up his life for me once before, it'd just be too traumatic to do so again. Everything was just so settled and certain. I could never find it so tranquil again. It's just not worth it. Even if it did work out, surely it would eventually reach the same level as with R - loose the real kick. Anyway, now I must face R for the first time since then, so I'll have to say goodbye so I can try to calm down before I see him.

Much love,

Signed Miranda in round girlie writing.

Miranda then takes the sheets of paper and folds them up together. She then gets up and unlocks a little chest from a far shelf with a metal key from her pocket. Inside it is almost full up with other letters addressed to James on the same paper and looking very similar. She adds this one to the front without looking at any of the other letters. The chest is locked and returned before she sits down on the corner of the bed with her eyes closed and breathes out a long sigh of exhaustion and releif.
 

K/O-c 3 Museum
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Dill and Miranda are sat in a museum's workshop. A room with a small group of people, a leader and various artifacts. The leader is just finishing her demonstration of how to make an axe head out of two lumps of flint.

Leader: Right then, you might as well get cracking (excuse the pun.) I'll come round and see you all gradually, but come and get me if you can't do anything right at all - you all seem to have got the hang of it so far pretty well. Oh, just a last couple of words - I run a week long stone age holiday where you've got to kill and eat all your own food. That's in the summer. Sometime next month we'll go outside and make some iron age weapons and tools. And a word of warning, don't get too carried away with these axeheads like a bloke did a couple of years back. He got pretty good at it, and sharpened as many bits of flint as he could, including this 3000 year old blade for removing the leather after a kill.

Shock on everyone's faces.

Dill: I lied to Catherine about where I was going tonight. I invented an old mate who required his annual service to talk about the good old days and agree to meet more often. I feel bloody terrible about it. I don't think I've ever deceived anyone before. I can't have done, I'd remember this feeling again.

Miranda: I just came right out and told Richard. "I'm going off the the Fitzwilliam with Dill. Don't know when I'll be back." I'm a real bastard to him, he doesn't deserve it. It's just the sort of thing he loves doing too.

Dill: Ah, at least that concern doesn't arise with me. Catherine just can't understand the attraction of anything intellectual or wacky and certainly not a combination of the two. It all just passes her by. She's C2 incarnate, you know: sit her infront of a soap opera 24 hours a day and she'd be completely content. The moment a documentary or natural history or OU program comes on the tele's turned straight over. You can imagine our house can't you. It's filled with expensive unwanted presents, just like all the rest of her family's houses and their class for that matter. I hate the waste of it all, it just repulses me. Why does a present need to be expensive to be appreciated? I'd much rather have less money spent on me and throw all the presents straight away, rather than having to keep them because they're pricy. Maybe it's just me but my favorite presents are the cheap and thoughtful ones rather than expensive and thoughtful ones. They're just attracting attention to themselves by flaunting all their shod: look at me, aren't I important and selfless, look everyone.

Miranda: What I hate about presents is that you buy everyone else the presents you want and you get the one's they want. You'd have thought in this day and age that we could have got round it.

Dill: Some people do you know. Every time they see something they want, they tell 'Wotcha Git' (his screen) and then everyone asks Wotcha Git what they want and put their names down for things.

Miranda: God that's ace. I'll have to start doing that.

Dill: Put down some really expensive stuff just incase some of Catherine's family are around.

Miranda: Tee hee.

Dill: Ho Ho. God the rubbish I have to abide. I mean, she never tires of the same naff jokes over and over again, all of them completely planer. Even if there's a fairly sophisticated humourous situation in one of her soaps, she'll laugh alright, but at the wrong joke. She takes the volume of the joke and slices an easy to swallow cross section out of it and laughs at that.

Miranda: How on Earth did you manage to get together in the first place then?

Dill: God knows. No it was when I was young and I suppose I took everything at face value and all that. The only life I knew was totally pragmatic, black and white. I had no idea what I really wanted in life. I thought I did, but all those decisions were based on little or no experience.

So I thought that what one wants in a woman is beauty. Catherine certainly is beautiful, exactly the same kind of beauty I liked at that stage. I can't believe I didn't understand the beauty in almost every other girl that must have suurounded me at that age. It's the same tunnel vision that sheilded me from the knowledge that would let me know what I want in life.

Nothing ever actually went wrong between us, but then nothing went particularly right either. We never had the impotus of something going wrong to do anything about it. So we stayed on the escalator, got married and had kids. It's much easier to get married that to turn around and confront the issue. And I suppose I always thought I'd never find anyone else who even touched on her beauty. I don't know what's happeded to that, she still looks the same (or fairly similar), I just seem to have bored of her. Sounds terrible doesn't it, she's just so flat and boring that she's not attractive to me any more.

Miranda: I don't find Richard attractive at all - never really have done. I used to feel there was something wrong with me. I never really fancied anyone, but I was dead lonely too. I just got to a certain point and gave myself a real shake and had to ask myself: why don't you fancy him? He's perfect for you. you'll fancy him in no time if you give him a chance, and besides you've got to get yourself into the game. Being at home with him's just like going to work: it's what I do, it's lost all it's excitement. Not like this, not making a flint arrowhead. Both of us are escaping out to be together. Oh, I didn't mean to embarress you.

Dill (gone red): That's OK. I don't know how women can say things like that. I know that that's what we're doing, but you're not supposed to say it. Come on, we're English remember.

Miranda: Sorry. I'll try and do better in future.

Miranda: I think most of Richard's problems stem from his lack of confidence and that in turn's from his mother. You know he still can't meet her at her house without turning into a moody teenager slamming doors, running out of the house, shouting, crying. I just can't begin to understand what she's done to him. All his family're the same. She's pretty selfish on the whole and does and says stupid things. His whole life seems to be just stumbling about. I suppose he leaves himself open to let things happen to him.

Frame silence.

Dill: Miranda? We are going to carry this on aren't we?
 

K/O-c 4 Cooking
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Dill is round Miranda's and Richard and James have gone away for the night. They're one and a half bottles of sherry down and still going. The final mouthfuls of stodge are being put away. Dill brings his last forkfull toward his mouth as if he's going to take it, then he aborts.

Dill: It's not like me to waste food, but this forkfull's symbolic of the inordinate amount off food we've just shoved down our gullets, when at the same time three hundred years ago people were starving to death.

As he puts it back on his plate they both laugh.

Miranda: Why can't you cook a reasonable amount for two?

Dill: That was a reasonable amount for Catherine's family! It's because we must have had one of every species of fruit and vegetable this side of Lympstone clock tower. It all adds up you know.

Miranda: Phew, I'll take these into the kitchen. Sod washing up until tommorrow.

Dill: I suppose we'd best do the honourable thing and down the rest of this sherry.

He fills up his and tops Miranda's up, and walks from the dining room table to the sofa, with the glasses and the tad left in the bottle, and his fourth hand is holding the athletes foot powder he never goes anywhere without.

Miranda (sitting down very close to Dill and accepting her glass): Thanks.

Dill: Down in one!

He throws his head back and forces it down. Miranda holds her glass away and stares at Dill from very close. Dill having finished the glass turns it upside down on his head, lets out a gasp and smiles.

Miranda: Well done son.

She moves towards him to give him a celcbratory kiss, which develops naturally into an all out snog the way any drunk couple that aren't repelled from eachother would.

Next shot is them entering the bedroom with their outer garments either disguarded of seriously untucked and ruffled. They stand at the foot of the bed snogging. Miranda starts to undress herself further. Dill is slow to follow. When she's down to panties and undone bra, she starts on him. Dill remains passive but snogging throughout the disrobing ceremony. She then grabs hold of him and pulls him down onto the bed. A few frames of mutual masturbation and that and in no time she's found a condom and is opening and fitting it. Dill is visibly tense. Miranda now lies back, legs akimbo pulling Dill down on her and directing his knob up her as she does so. They start, but most of the motion is generated by Miranda. Suddenly Dill withdraws, sits up on the side of the bed, and pulls the discarded duvet around him. He stares towards the wall focusing some way before it with tears in his eyes. Miranda gets a near by towel and covers herself up with it and sits next to Dill.

Miranda: Oh sorry Dill. I didn't mean to force you into it.

She wraps her arms around him, but he stays there passively gazing into space.

Dill (quiet and croakily): Is this it? After all the excitement and thrill of the past few months. Have we made it now to the height of our fun together? We've passed all the lower stages of mutual acceptance and we've got all the way up to sex.

I want my heart to keep racing every time I'm just about to meet you, and that numb lump at the front of my chest and the warm glow I get every time we part. I want to keep them forever. Why can't we keep it like that.

Fair pause.

Miranda: Do you want to?

Dill (turning to her now and hugging her): No. It's just ...

They stay hugging for a fair while before Miranda gets the urge to discuss the important factors about their relationship.

Miranda: I can't leave Richard. He loves me too much, it would break his heart. He is so happy and confident and he'd just loose it all. How could I ever justify changing him into a submissive follower. He's a leader now with thoughts and dreams of his own and people follow him. He'd turn into someone who bumbles about for the rest of his life, being manipulated and uncatered for. Getting bum deal after bum deal and not fully realizing how bad things have become, just getting through however inefficient and expensive it is. Not appreciating when something good comes along. Being thrown onto the street, being as bad as being conned out of £200. I can't do that to him. James'll be OK whatever, he's still to young to be traumatized by it. But if I didn't do it now I'd have to wait until he's twenty. What'd we do anyway? Set up home and a family? It'd be exactly the same as we've got now only with more complecations. Lets keep it the same. Keep it special.

Pause.

Dill: An old friend of mine, he was just like me in almost every aspect. He used to work at the same place as me, and we spent every lunchtime together. Had circumstances been different, well geographically anyway, we'd probably have become best friends (if he didn't have a girlfriend). One thing he said really stuck in my mind. I wouldn't have said it, which wasn't true for absolutely everything else he ever said. He was explaining how, right from the very first encounter, his relationship with his girlfriend (now wife) was different from all the other relationships he'd ever had. He didn't think constantly of her, he wasn't concious of their relatonship developing (although it did). Everything was so easy and natural. I couldn't comprehend it at all. I was always crazy about whoever I fancied at the time. I looked out for women that made me feel the way he described, but I never fancied any of them. No wonder I didn't go mad over them. I thought he was wrong when I got married to Catherine. When things stopped going well I kicked myself, why hadn't I listened to him.

Well, he was wrong about it in the end wasn't he. I'm absolutely emphatuated with you and I don't want that to stop. Ever.
 

K/O-b 14 Wedding Invite
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Miranda's messing around on the screen or something when up pops a phone call from Fred.

Miranda: Fred! How are you?

Fred: Great, everything seems to be going right now.

Miranda: Ace. Things alright with Mrs Patel?

Fred: Couldn't be better, it's a great little family we've got. We go off to church together and everything.

Miranda: Great.

Fred: And I've got a girlfriend now you know.

Miranda: Yeah?

Fred: Yeah: Catherine. I go to church with her and she's brilliant.

Miranda: Come on then, give us the suss.

Fred: Well, I met her on the first time I went to church with Mum. David went to school with Catherine, and she's known Mum all her life. We just got on really well and went out to a pub together and everything went ace. I don't think she got on too well with David though, but still, it's funny how things turn out.

Miranda: What's she like then?

Fred: Really beautiful, stunning really. Infact, 'Gorgeous', send her that still of Catherine at Christchurch. Very chic - she really knows how to wear clothes - bit af a stark contrast with me there. Ha.

Miranda: You just dress comfortably though don't you.

Fred: Is that what you call it? Well anyway. Her family are pretty well off. God, the birthday presents they give eachother cost a fortune. She's a pretty high powered businesswoman so she can afford it.

Miranda: How's your job going?

Fred: Really well. Everyone's impressed with my food even though I make it a bit differrently than they expect, but everyone says I've got a good future. Who knows, I might start up my own cafe/ someday.

Miranda: excellent. I'm really pleased for you.

Fred: Yeah, we're both doing well. Loads of Catherine's boss's mates keep offering her astronomical amounts of money to travel the world with them in the hope that some of her good looks rub off on them.

Miranda: I expect sexual favours would be expected for that sort of price.

Fred: They'll be lucky, we take our religion quite seriously you know.

Miranda: So no sex before marriage?

Fred: Nop, but that's not too far away now.

Miranda: Yeah? I don't know, you don't even tell me about her until you're getting married. All abit sudden isn't it?

Fred: Well we've been going out for four months now (it's our aniversary on Tuesday), and we're madly in love. It's going to be great. That's the reason why I rung you really, to invite you to our engagement party Saturday week.

Miranda: Thanks, I'd love to come. I'll get cracking on a babysitter.

Miranda: Ear. Did you know that you're more likely to have a better marriage if you don't have sex before?

Fred: Yeah? I wonder why everyone doesn't do it?

Miranda: I think it says more about the nature of the people who are prepared to abstain, than the act of abstaining itself. I think the arguement goes that if you don't have sex, then it blocks any development in the relationship getting past a certain stage. The relationship stays immature, and blocks any real understanding between you. It can often cause the men problems, because they have no tangible evidence that the woman likes him more than any of her male friends. Women don't seem to suffer so much from this jealousy.

Fred: That's interesting.

Miranda: Some of it may even be true, but I wouldn't put any money on it, generalizations are notoriously flawed.

Fred: Well it's something to think about anyway.

Miranda: Anyway, I look forward to the party, should be fun.

Fred: Where's James?

Miranda: Oh Richard's taken him down the shops.

Fred: Oh right. You can bring Dill or Richard if you like, or just come on your own, whatever.

Miranda: I think I'll come with Richard, he knows you better, he'd enjoy it. Dill's looking forward to James coming home, only a couple of months now.

Fred: How's he coped?

Miranda: James? I really thought he'd be completely immune to it all. Maybe I just wanted him to be. He's not though, I don't think he's barkingmad, but he's become seriously reclusive. The lack of any personal contact has left him barely able to make social contact even with me or Dill. I've been writing alot, but he's been getting literally thousands of letters every day from all around the Earth, and of course he receives them at a much faster rate than they're sent. I've had one very terse and hollow reply. I think, well he was hoping to carry on going out with me. He couldn't have taken the news that I was married too well. Maybe I shouldn't have told him until he got to earth, he might have wethered the trip much better with that hope, I thought it was the right move at the time. He's going to need alot of work. Mind you I'm used to that aren't I?

Fred: Ha, Ha, well, I wouldn't want you to feel you hadn't earnt your pay.

Miranda: Yeah, you can't go round life enjoying yourself! Anyway.

Fred: Right oh, see you not this weekend, next weekend.

Miranda: OK, bye then.

Fred: Bye.
 

K/O-c 5.1 Dill's Journey to Jenni
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Start with a veiw of a fairly standard looking airpoort, but with one slightly different planes cos they use no fossel fuels. Now show Dill boarding a slightly different one of the planes with it's destination described as the Spining Jenni, being greeted at the door by a pair of airhostesses.

Dill: Wotcha git.

Hostess: What a charmer. I can see I'll have to watch you.

Dill: Dah, I'm not that bad.

Hostess: You've got that seat there next to the aisle.

Dill: Wot, don't I even get a window seat. I don't know.

Dill (taking his seat) thinks: Bugger me, she's alright (looking back). What an arse.

Pan up and down her volumptuousness. Dill sits and watches her load everyone on.

Dill thinks: And there's some other tasty bits boarding too.

Have views of him watching the girls come in. Hardly have any blokes and dress them down to divert attention from them. Concentrate on their tits, legs, faces (odd bits of eye contact), and arses. Is there anything I haven't covered? Anyway they all look really sexy in all possible ways. You lot should be good at all that, everything I ever see seems as biased as this.

Dill thinks: Blinkin' flip Dill. Why have you changed so much in the last year? Right up to meeting Miranda you really wouldn't have looked twice at a pair of legs as long and smooth as those. I can't believe that they weren't around then. Was I normal then, being unhappy with just one woman? I could only consider one scenario, that of being in an exactly similar monogomy but with a bird with brains. The thought of shagging everything in sight never occured to me. How often did someone with breasts as round as those give me a look like that: just a fraction of a second too much eye contact? It must have happened all the time, or maybe it didn't. Maybe since Miranda, I've just exhuded confidence and sexuality and all these women pick up on it.

Knowing Miranda has opened my mind, I feel a completely new man. I could give up work now, I could find a new bird if the one I was with gave me the push. What is so different about Miranda and Barbara and these women? None of them are any more attractive than Barbara, no part of them is any better than Miranda. They're just different. But why is it that I could go right now into that toilet and shag that bird in low gee until Spinning Jenni? She's probably the most boring person in the world. It's just pure lust.

God Dill, isn't this the mind of a rapist? No? Well what must be in the mind of a rapist? Surely being consumed by lust is just about it isn't it? Maybe a little piece of mesogeny too, you haven't got that have you? Well what about those frames of mind you get after your lust has been satisfied. You know, when you're watching smut and the curves look a bit stupid: the top of the hips are too high; the arse sticks out too far; breasts are either too high and small or too low and large; nipples too large, long or soft. Even the freshness of a new female face to look at seems no real difference to any previous ones. The whole physical nature of women becomes uninteresting, and then you loose interest completely. Again it's lust driving whether you want to know women or not. Their lack of confidence, the xxxxic (can't read my own writing - insert a suitable word) nature of their behaviour, their loving selfless attitudes with men, and dislike for excess and extreames all become a bit naff and unnessasary. Male company with it's fun and piss taking seems so much more natural and the absence of the sexual element present in any male/female relationship relaxes. So anyway, you're male and you've got the mind of every rapist. What is it that makes them or stops us doing it? The sense of what you and they would feel after maybe? If there were absolutely no emotional repercusions I'd bend her over that bog and bloody do it now. But there are, both for me and her. Maybe that's what separates me from a rapist. I couldn't do it to Miranda: essentially make her sexually redundant for me. It's her I love. How can I detach love and sex so readily? I'd love it if Miranda physically turned into a different woman every night I share with her. Maybe even that wouldn't have the thrill of the unknown and naughty. But the fuckee, she's got to have some attachment to me doesn't she? Oh God. That brings you back again to James. What is it that upsets me about James having his knob up Miranda? It's not about him really, I mean he's barking mad now, but Miranda gave herself to him. So you expect her to have remained a virgin until you turned up eh? There, I obviously can't detach sex and love . Have we really evolved so little away from all the other animals in those eight million years that we men must have every woman, and every woman can have only us.

Oh stop it Dill, you know there's no answers. Lets see what's on the box.

Presenter: Every one knows that James is going to return to the Earth after over eight years, and that he himself will not have aged that much. In fact there are many technical issues surrounding his return, and Professor Waffle is here to clarify these issues. Professor Waffle?

Prof: Thank you. Well we'll start off with the fantastic situation where James has only aged five years nine months in the last eight years two months.

To get a basic understanding of the principals behind this we must start by agreeing that the speed of light is constant when measured anywhere in the universe is the same. This means that if we measure it on Earth, it makes no difference if stars and galaxies are moving towards or away from us (fairly reasonable) and vice versa. The value we get is the same in the summer as it is in the winter when the Earth is travelling in the opposite direction around the sun to the tune of 60,000 metres per second. So the speed of light, just as everything else on Progen is exactly the same as on Gensim with it's accelleration providing the gravity it needs.

Now we know that Progen is travelling at a great speed away from the Earth, but lets pretend that it is skimming across the Earth's surface rather than being the great distance away that it really is. Say there's a light at the bottom of Progen almost touching the flat surface of Earth. A partical of light leaves the light and travels up the side to the top of Progen, a distance P. In the time it takes to get to the top, Progen has skimmed across the ground a distance D. The speed of light is the same on Progen as it is on Earth. So since the light has covered more distance over the Earth, it must also have taken more time. Conversely, the shorter distance covered by the partical on Progen means it's taken less time. Because Progen is travelling at speed, time is progressing slower. This is why Miranda is now two years, four months older than James is although James was born nearly a month before she was.

Maybe we were too hasty in saying that the speed of light is constant. The situation's like having two similar tanks of water both with something bobbing up and down at the far end and sending waves towards us. One of the tanks is on wheels though and is coming towards us at a speed V. If the waves come towards us at a speed W in the stationary tank, we'd expect the waves in the moving tank to come towards us at W + V. Which they do with water. However, from our assumption above that the speed of light waves are constant, that would mean that if the waves generated in the moving tank were light not water, they would also travel towards us at W. Either the progress of the waves in the moving tank is slower, or the waves are travelling at the same speed, but time is running slower.

Obviously the hypothesis about the speed of light being constant must be wrong. The only problem with this seemingly obvious statement though is that that is exactly how light seems to behave in every experiment ever done on it.

Now Lover's Limit is the other main peculiarity that the Progen project experienced, and it's not quite as simple to explain as relativity. (In other words I can't work out why it happens, it just plops out of the back of a couple of equations as far as I'm concerned. - Woody) I'll just give an explanation of what the phenominum is rather than why it happens. After take off, Progen accellerates uniformly at a rate of g exactly equivalent to Earth's gravity (g) to make the journey comfortable for the passengers by giving them some artificial gravity. Now as we've shown, relativity comes into effect when Progen's speed approaches the speed of light, which can never be reached. So, although Progen is accellerating at a rate of g relative to the part of space that it's in at any moment, it's rate of accelleration relative to Earth reduces as it gets closer and closer to the speed of light. It is interesting to note that it never actually stops accellerating relative to Earth, so that although it never actually reaches the speed of light, it is constantly getting a little closer to it.

Assuming for the minute that Progen doesn't turn itself around and start decellerating half way to Nalengua, and that James didn't leave it. Say that Miranda is sending letters to James on Progen. The time after take off that the letter is sent and the time it takes for James to get the letter's received is as follows:
 
 

sent (Earth) received (Earth) received (Progen - slower)
 
 

1 week 1 week 1 hour 42 mins 1 week 1 hour 41 mins

1 month 1 month 1 day 11 hours 58 mins 1 month 1 day 10 hours 52 mins

10 months 4 years 0 months 5 days 2 years 0 months 20 days
 
 

A letter sent at Lovers limit (t = c/g) 351 and a half days (almost a year) will never get to James, even though the letter is always travelling at the speed of light and Progen is travelling at less than it. Maybe you'll have to get a real expert onto the show to explain why that happens.

The only other outstanding technical issue that needs addressing is how Exmod II is going to land on Spinning Jenni. Spinning Jenni is the Earth's docking port for space vehicles, so that they don't have to have special protection for entering Earth's atmoshphere, have special equipment for landing on Earth's surface, and expend so much energy in escaping Earth's gravity. It looks like a giant bike wheel with 30 spokes, 15 of which have massive counter balances that side up and down their length which on these spokes extends slightly further than the 10km radius of the main wheel. It rotates once every 200 seconds. This provides an accelleration at the rim towards the centre equal to the gravity on Earth. Spinning Jenni's axis of revolution is always pointing towards the Earth's centre of gravity, and Spinning Jenni is of course in Earth orbit.

To dock Exmod II onto one of the ports halfway between two of the extended spokes it must synchronize it's decelleration so that it reaches a velocity of 300 metres per second (the speed at the circumference of Spinning Jenni) just before it reaches it. It must then rotate by 90 degrees. Exmod II must approach Spinning Jenni tangentally. When they meet, they must be synchronized so that the intended docking site is exactly at the the point of contact. I say point of contact, they don't actually join at that moment, instead Exmod II is slightly towards the outside of the rim. It turns its main accellerator back on and gravity is restored to everyone onboard (James) and other smaller tangental accellerators cause it to start rotating as if it were connected to Spinning Jenni. Slight corrections in the outputs of these accellerators get Exmod II into docking position, where it is grabbed by Spinning Jenni. As the counter balances gradually adjust themselves, the accellerators are turned down until the counter balances completely account for the extra weight at one side of the rim and keep the centre of gravity at the centre of the wheel.

There's a shuttle going up there from Earth even as we speak that will land in this manner except that the docking port is in the roof of the shuttle that resembles a conventional aircraft fairly closely.
 

QII 3 James's final approach
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Mirada: James, see if you can set up the final call to James as we talk him in.

Dill: You think he'll start responding a bit better now he's a bit closer?

Miranda: Doubt it. He'll only make progress really when there's people around and he can aclimatize himself to human contact. We should be there for him, sort of 'around' rather than forcing ourselves on him and making him participate: that could force him over the edge.

Miranda pushes the connect button. James comes up on the screen.

Miranda: Hello James?

James: Hello.

Miranda: Have you had enough sleep over the last day?

James: Yes.

Miranda: Oh good, cos you've got a pretty busy day ahead. I've got Dill here.

Dill: Wotcha James!

James: Hello.

Miranda: We're both up here on Spinning Jenni. I've got the Top Dog from Spinning Jenni here too. Now he'd feel alot happier if control of Exmod II could be passed to him for this last hour of your approach. He says he's got one or two doubts about the state of part of the navigation equipment. Do you think you could do that, just let control of the final docking be transfered, you'd obviously maintain complete control of the rest of Exmod II.

James very slightly nods his head and a window comes up 'Control Transfered'.

Miranda: That's pretty impressive.

Miranda: Right, I know we've gone over all this with messages, but you've obviously been getting thousands of messages an hour from all over the Earth, I just want to make sure you know exactly what the score is on a couple of fronts. OK?

Right, the Progen body here are definately not going to bring any charges against you, so there's going to be no hassle from them. However you are going to have to go through a rehabilitation process which I'm going to do with you. Should be a laugh. I've had a look into making you an alternative after what you said about it. It's been been quite interesting, the IT lot have has a bit of a laugh: they officially killed you off eight years ago, and there's never been a requirement for resurecting anyone before, so they've had to adapt the procedure for someone becoming an alternative, and then coming back. It's been ages since anyone's written any original code for it. It must be the most well structured and documented code ever. They've taken it pretty seriously though, making it general enough for when space travel may be more widespread and there's loads of people at it. They even started getting into a universal currency, but they had to give it up as it was a bit more complecated than they'd anticipated. Anyway, you'll still need to have some records whilst you're going though rehab, then you can loose them all and go alternative if you want.

Right, you'll be staying just round the corner from me. They'll be someone there on call for you 24 hours a day. You've got a bedroom and a bath in a block of other rehab people and various others. I've taken the liberty of moving some of your stuff in there. Me and Anthony did that last weekend. We'll all get down to Earth tomorrow sometime.

Right, there's no real way around this one, you're arrival is a big media story. They're going to want some film of you coming out and everything. I thought the best thing to do would be to get a mate of mine from Contempory to do an 'offical' version and then release that for nothing. That should keep the intrustion down to a minimum. God knows they've hounded us enough recently.

OK we've only got just under an hour now until you dock. It could take a bit longer to sort everthing out before we see you.

James: Miranda?

Miranda: Yes James.

James: Do you think I could have the last hour alone?

Miranda: Er, er, yes. Yes of course, sorry, I'm being selfish. Look, don't forget about the couple of minutes you'll spend in zero gee. Strap up well. OK we'll see you then then, bye.

The screen powers down.
 
 

[The following text is said whilst performing the actions detailed below that.]

James: What can I do? I'm mad. I know that. I can't talk to people now. I don't want everyone looking at me and pointing. Miranda's married someone else. I love her. I'm going to be her patient. She's going to practice on me. But we were in love. It's all my fault. If I'd have stayed on Earth I'd never have got depressed in the first place. I'd be surrounded by friends and I'd be the same age as them. Miranda and me'd have two lovely children and I'd work at home and play with them all the time.

Well you're mad and you've got a gammy leg now and back on Earth you'd just be a burden to society, and you've been more than enough of that already. I used to think I was so lucky. I used to think that I really had everything. What happened? I made all the right choices didn't I? I only started to understand life when it was just too late for me.

How could you let that leg get like that? You noticed it. Was it the fascination, or just the habit?

AAAAAAAAAh, I though my mind had cleared, but it's so full of stupid suggestions. Can't it clear just for a couple of minutes?

James: I remember when Nanny died, she said I'd have a hard decision to make some day, but I'd make the right choice. Today is Today. Puter, you won't understand, but you're the only thing that fought against me loosing my mind over the last four years. Thanks. At least my leg'll stop hurting. One last pull? No. No. Just this once do something properly. Puter, stop them removing g for a couple of minutes - but don't smash into Jenni. Oh, and don't let them in for a couple of hours - wouldn't want anyone to revive me. Tell Miranda I love her, and you too Puter.

[James, now on crutches, gets a large bag from the ag level and fills it with soil. He drags it into the lift, and then out on the main entrance level. He then calmly rips the bag open and piles the soil up, throws the bag on the floor and whacks the soil sidewards with his crutch. Then he goes up to the gym, and throws a rope over a high beam. He ties a noose in it and then sets about making it the right height, by bringing the horse over to him and setting it a reasonable way above it before tying the other end somewhere. The book ends with him having stuggled up the horse, holding the noose in his hand.

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