Q Is For Quartermaster, Who Provides Us With Guns. (499 words)

Bond stands as still as a statue while the retinal scanner confirms his identity, the doors to the lab unlock with a heavy clunk and then sweep open with a light whoosh.

He stands at the top of the stairs for a moment and takes it all in. White coated boffins as far as the eye can see, all working on the latest gadgets to help him and his fellow agents save the world as swiftly as possible. A warm smile creeps over his haggard face. He loves this place and could happily watch them all day; spotting his old friend Q he waves and makes his way down towards him.

James has worked with Q ever since he first became an agent and owes his life many times over to the great man's ingenuity.  He can accept his own mortality staring him in the face, the aches and pains, the ever younger looking agents who can runner further and faster than him. But it saddens him to see old age catching up with his dear friend.

There are the beginnings of a tremor in his hands, years of intricate work finally taking their toll and his hearing isn't what it used to be due to all the explosions. He can understand this, side effects of the jobs, really he was lucky to still be all in one piece. Q's team had lost more than its fair share of members over the years, some of them were carried out in body bags, the less fortunate were mopped off the ceilings. What he can't accept and hasn't admitted to anyone is that Q's grip on reality has started to loosen of late.

The inventions were that little bit more outlandish of late. They were admittedly still brilliant; the radio controlled dog with web camera eyes had saved James the bother of infiltrating Baron Zanchausens gang and he soon had the upload codes for the space lasers. The inflatable boat shoes however were less than successful; see also the waistcoat parachute, the bullet proof wig and the watch that was meant to double up as a helicopter. The hands spin at over 25000 rpm and give off a nice breeze; he kept it and wears it on his holidays.

He brushes these thoughts aside and greets his old friend.  " So what have you got for me today then Q? "

With a twinkle of mischief in his eyes Q smiles, takes an ordinary looking ballpoint pen out of his lab coat pocket and says "Aah 007! Take a look at this."

He tosses the pen at Bond who snatches it out of the air, gives it a once over and not knowing what to say tries, "Looks like a normal pen to me old boy."

With a wry smile Q replies. "Oh it is far from normal, I've replaced the ink with milk, full of calcium see, you need to look after your bones Bond. You're not getting any younger you know."

No comments:

Post a Comment