‘Mind-tricking scum!’ spat Michael who was the unwitting host of a mind-entity in a state of intense hatred. It was a condition Michael’s body was completely unprepared for, but bizarrely found quite refreshing.
Michael was a reserved character most of the time. He was not very good at voicing his inner feelings. He kept them all bottled up, which was a situation his body was less than happy about. Being almost psychotically angry was a step up the ladder as far as his body was concerned. In fact Michael’s body wasn’t at all sure if he ever wanted the Mike mind back.
Golden Frog was speechless. Danny was more of an adversary than he had reckoned with. Somehow he had managed to tamper with his own mind-waves without him even noticing until it was too late. Golden Frog went cold. The pleasure, the confidence just evaporated into thin air. There was but one thought on his mind now. Danny and Ben will pay for this.
But now he couldn't quite trust himself - who knows what Danny had done? Was he too confident? Was he over-compensating? Smashing the car through the plate glass lobby doors suddenly lost all its appeal. He’d been tricked. Golden Frog changed his mind. Instead of gatecrashing the hospital lobby he quietly found a parking space (marked disabled only) and then parked at an angle across it. He made haste for the casualty department on foot.
In the casualty department Danny and Ben had been stabilised. The seizures had finally abated.
‘You’ve got this all under control now Jane by the looks of it?’ said Dr Farma in his baritone voice glancing at the two boys. Jane, the senior nurse eyed his tired, thin frame
‘Yeah no problem. Think I’ll give that next lot of valium now though. They’ll be fine. I’ll page you if Mrs Thompkins goes off again,’ Jane replied. Dr Farma glanced at Jane and tried not to look at her large bosom pressing against her starched white uniform. He had liked Jane for a long time.
Dr Farma tramped off the casualty unit and hoped he’d get an hour or two’s sleep before being paged again.
In his mind Golden Frog tracked Danny and Ben. His futurepathic abilities told him that a Dr Biggles Farma was about to enter the loo by the corridor leading to casualty. A few moments later, after checking that no one was watching, he kicked the toilet door wide open and touched the shocked doctor with Michael’s left hand. Sat on the lavatory was the one place Dr Farma usually got any peace on shift. Golf then suddenly and violently convulsed Michael’s body. The man looked at him with utter fear.
Five years’ worth of Michael’s precious life-force shot straight out of his body, through Michael’s finger and into Dr Farma's neck. Sure, a tazer-gun would have done the job just as well but Golf was generous when spending other people's life-force. Plus Michael, being a carer, did not usually carry a tazer. Five years’ worth in one shot should be enough to blow the poor doctor's mind (and burn Michael's finger-tip). For a split second Dr Farma's eyes lit up as though he had understood everything that had eluded him all these years. Why hadn't they taught him all this at medical school? And then he stopped breathing. He went limp and slid sideways from the toilet.
It was sure tempting - maybe he could just jump straight from Michael's body into Dr Farma's. That would be the perfect disguise. But that had one major drawback. Entities like Golden Frog were made to surf the host's body-mind. The Interstellar Mind-Frogs, the race of which Golf was part, didn't like to think of their lives as parasitical. They gave more than they took in their humble opinion. However, fully taking over a human body was dangerous. It was a bit like leaving a child to steer a bus - a bus without power-steering. Golf just didn't have enough raw energy to take over another body. He'd have to stay with Michael and hope no-one noticed an additional doctor wandering through casualty.
As Golden Frog was stripping Dr Farma of his theatre gowns, a small jolt occurred and the medic started to breathe again in short, shallow gasps. Oh well, thought Golden Frog malevolently. If this doctor does survive, at least he can be very proud of his beautifully medical, but tragically short death. Shame he isn’t aware enough to appreciate it though, Golf reflected. Hanging loose in Dr Farma's surgical trousers and shirt, Golden Frog burst out of the loo. He snapped the doctor's ID card into place and made straight for the resuscitation room.
Danny’s done me a favour, thought Golden Frog. My original plan was messy. Danny has put himself into a suitable state of shock. I’ll just hop along there and jump right in. He won’t even know what’s hit him. All Golf needed to do was to get close to Danny whilst he was in his current shocked condition. Then he could make the transfer into Danny's unguarded mind. Feeling both more determined and sporting a new found spurt of confidence, Michael a.k.a. Golden Frog a.k.a. Dr Farma, burst onto the scene.
The nurses were way too busy to pay much attention as Dr Farma's impostor quietly positioned himself alongside Danny. The impostor’s hands slid without thinking toward the resuscitation trolley and the cardiac-shocker machine upon it. Danny and Ben had stopped fitting now the strong sedatives they had been given took effect.
Golden Frog felt Michael's left foot slide itself imperceptibly under the shocker trolley hooking the wheels and flicking the trolley closer to Danny. He couldn't help but caress the shocker paddles - they felt so good, so smooth.
Golden Frog had intended to jump straight back into Danny's mind. But what harm could it do to teach the horrible little sod a bodily type of lesson first? He would still have plenty of time to make the final transfer. A few thousand volts to the head would do Danny's clarity of mind such good. It was like an itch that just cried out to be scratched. Golf knew exactly how many electrons Danny's brain could handle before frying itself. In fact he could have placed the electrons in neat little geometric patterns and counted them if he had of wanted to.
With a smile, Golden Frog activated the charging sequence on the machine. Michael's body was salivating in anticipation as the machine let out its high-pitched squealing sound. This indicated that it was charged up and ready to disgorge its contents of pent-up electricity.
To the utter astonishment of the Jane the nurse, who had just come back into the double trolley area, Ben suddenly jerked himself upright and coolly looked around - but with his eyes still closed. Ben clocked Danny and focused on him with his ‘third’ psychic eye.
Jane just stood and stared as she saw a blast of chilled blue air shoot straight from Ben's forehead at Danny. Almost in slow motion she now realised that there was also a strange man in surgical gowns stood right by Danny. Why hadn’t she seen him before? With horror she saw that the man was about to discharge the cardiac shocker paddles straight into their poor patient's temples. This was definitely against the rules.
Danny felt a crushing shot of mind-numbing ice penetrate his consciousness like a crossbow bolt flying through custard. All of Danny's mind-fog snapped clear as though he had been suddenly tossed into the freezing Arctic sea. Upside down he looked into his attacker’s eyes and had three very clear thoughts in quick succession. They were - Michael, Golden Frog, and Quick!
With an almighty push of his heavy body Danny threw himself backward like an angry fish gasping for life on a ship’s deck. Danny's hardened head rammed straight into Michael's abdomen.
Winded, Michael fell forward just as the plates were discharging. As he slipped forwards the paddles made contact with Michael's own head, electrifying his brain. Golden Frog was forcibly ejected. A squid-like jet of luminescent yellow shot out of the room and into the main casualty corridor. Although the corridor was well populated the only person who noticed the jet of yellow was a paranoid schizophrenic - and no one would believe her.
Golden Frog was on his own now. He was too far from Danny to attempt the jump. He'd messed up big style and might have to pay with his life. Outside of a host-mind Golden Frog's life expectancy could be measured in seconds.
Ben found his consciousness resurfacing despite the drugs. With his eyes still shut he contacted Danny via the mind-waves.
‘Did you manage to get rid of Golden Frog?’ said Ben telepathically.
‘Yes, I think so, thanks to you. I went to the Thought Realm, found Golden Frog's mind vibes and then tweaked a bit. I lowered his confidence but left a trace, a fingerprint. Figured he’d find it, get angry and overcompensate - make him vulnerable to that little mistake we needed.’
Ben was impressed. ‘So he decides to fry you instead of just jumping straight back in?’
‘Clouded his judgment I guess. Bought us some time. I didn’t know if it would work out but couldn’t think of anything else.’
‘But you had him figured Danny.’
‘Thanks mate.’
Meanwhile, Golden Frog was realising with increasing horror that he was still homeless. Merely a passing vapour in the hospital air, he had also received a menacing mind-message from the agency. The message was all in pictures and feelings.
If roughly translated into language the message would read as follows: 'If by some miracle you survive this complete mess-up of yours, you had better put things right. Get back into Danny the neurode's head and carry out the original instructions. Otherwise you will live to regret it, if you are lucky. Your other option is much, much worse.'
The accompanying pictures hit Golden Frog's psychic soft spot. He felt himself quake in shock. The agency's Mindsnapper was vicious - even a moment of it went beyond any merely physical pain.
Golden Frog had only a few seconds left. He was desperately seeking alternative lodgings. He needed someone in a state of shock, with, at the very least, a Golden Frog sized gap in the neural spacing. Additionally the victim needed to be within a short distance. Golden Frog scanned his environment feverishly. The ultimatums were still echoing in his mind.
Golden Frog happened upon an unguarded mind nearby. He was a professional football player. He had taken a knock to the head in training, suffering moderate concussion. He would be as right as rain in the morning. Or, he would have been, had he not made the acquaintance of a certain frog-like individual.
An hour passed and the police had long since arrived. The real Dr Farma had been found and was now in a bed on the observation ward having his blood pressure done. Michael was slowly regaining consciousness, as himself, on a trolley in a small cubicle off the main Casualty corridor. Sitting outside on a cheap plastic chair was a pretty blond-haired policewoman patiently keeping guard.
Danny and Ben had been rushed straight back to the ward and had been moved to the higher risk beds outside the nurse’s office. Neither was too pleased about that but they weren't in much of a position to argue. Cynthia and Trevor were drinking coffee in the canteen: milk, one sugar. The agency was seriously displeased. Golden Frog was sad, mad and dangerous, but mostly the former and the latter.
Michael wouldn't know who had hit him (Danny had, in the abdomen, with his head). Or, who had electrified him (Golden Frog was the culprit, albeit accidentally). Michael didn’t even know that his body and mind had been taken for a ride by an alien mind entity, an entity working for the dreaded agency but planning its own betrayal. Michael wouldn't even remember any of the recent action as his own mind had been slammed fast in the freezer during the last few hours.
The doctors had told him he would need a period of sick leave and some Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, maybe some Neuro-Linguistic Programming too if he was lucky. He had suffered a mental breakdown apparently. To Michael, life was just a bit foggier than normal. He was looking forward to getting home and seeing the kids. A bit of time off would be great. He even missed his wife. Bizarrely, he also found he could not wait to see his new aquarium and to get some fish. He still had not told his wife that he had spent the last of his pay-cheque on that tank. Hopefully the current account would get overlooked in the confusion. There were pluses all round Michael was beginning to think.
Danny and Ben, though less than pleased to find themselves back under close observation on the ward were counting their blessings.