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from another time lord.
    He called himself Swerve and he acted like an imbecile?
    Yes.
    That’s Mayhew. He’s the one that crushed the gorgons.
    No.
    Yes.
    They trusted him?
    And they died.
    Sholto was still agog that one man had brought down the hideous nest of horrendous scale-covered women with their snake infested hair who by their sheer will could turn men to stone whom they then smashed into a million pieces. That the hapless Swerve had infiltrated, and some said charmed them into thinking he was an imbecile, had been the talk of the paranormal world. That Sholto had spoken so openly about his distaste of humans and his plans to rearrange their boring world into one of chaos and doom, as was a time lords want, had angered him. He had been made a fool and he had to rectify it. Torturing Mayhew would do it. Killing was too quick. Ruining his perfect little world would be excellent payback. His kind could not be allowed to stand in the way of what Sholto wanted.
    Sholto scowled as he watched Mayhew and the other man at the half door at the post office. Hundreds of people would have walked by that every day without thinking about why it was a half door that seemingly had no reason or purpose, but not Mayhew. If he destroyed that, he destroyed the major entrance way into Cairns.
    The tropical city was an untapped paradise that he wanted to play with and corrupt.
    “And I can’t let him win.” He pulled his cell phone from his trouser pocket and tapped out a phone number. It still amused him that humans at this point of time and evolution used such a primitive device to communicate. Sholto thought about the communication implants that would be rolled out in three years time and how the technology would bitterly divide the world over the issue of privacy of thoughts and ideas. “Not my problem.” Nothing ever was when you were a time lord. You did as you pleased and rarely, except for a few noble individual time lords who had lofty ideals, was there a care factor about how others would be affected.

    “Socia, my dear. Are you ready for me?” He listened to the woman’s response.
    It was as expected. She wanted him, but she was wary of the consequences. Smart girl . “ Just be ready for me.” Sholto ended the call. He smiled. He enjoyed inflicting pain on the dark-eye wench.

    * * * * *
Jim Kirk stood in the dark at the post office with Simon Mayhew. “This is going to be a hard one to deal with, Swerve.”
    Simon liked Jim. He had no idea of who Simon was. He was just a guy called Swerve. That suited Simon. He could be himself and not the wealth he has attained.
    He didn’t use the dopey alter ego personality with Jim. Only the name. What they were doing was too important to play games with. Real names were irrelevant anyway. Hence the reason he used Swerve and his colleague was naming himself after the Star Trek Captain. In their business, names were immaterial because the bottom line was saving people from those who sought to inflict there will on others.
    Like time lords. While they could never be successfully destroyed, they had to be contained and not allowed to run rampant through the world they knew.
    Simon nodded. “Yes.” They had walked through the full door a dozen times to work out if there was any backlash or current that could be connected to the half door. But there wasn’t, and that was odd. Rarely did time lords have one single portal to travel though. “There has to be another one.”
    “Maybe not.” Jim touched the door once more. “I want to go through.”
    Simon shook his head. “No, Jim, I can’t let you. Just touching the door tells me there’s immense power behind it. It would rip you to pieces.”
    “But we can’t leave it here, like this.”
    Simon knew that. Amazingly, the door had been standing like this since the mid-eighties and no one had changed it or wondered why, until one local paranormal hunter and his friend had tested it out. Only one of them survived to tell the