An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and Doctor John Watson. Part One

Discover what really goes on behind that incredible mind of Sherlock Holmes. Learn more about the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and the Baker Street Adventurers. Why does the Professor Moriarity exist as a different person  now? Learn all this in more in this series of interviews I was lucky enough to secure over the last year. The first part of a series of five interviews I did with Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Harry Houdini from The Baker Street Universe.

An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and Doctor John Watson. Part One

A terse description of Sherlock Holmes might be sharp as an eagle, determined, relentless, determined and driven to know the truth.

A longer one might be that he is a man of many talents, a mystery even to himself at times, a mystic and a leader of men.

Presented today is a brief interview I was fortunate enough to have with the distinguished gentleman when he came into our world with his good friend Harry Houdini and his partner Doctor John Watson in search of a predator who was determined to assassinate one of our leading Presidents. Why he would go so far as to interfere in our world's politics, I hope this short interview might enlighten you as to.

I apologize for any errors that might appear as I tend to do the transcribing quite late at night so as not to disturb my family.

Because of the nature of the interview and its length, it might be interrupted at times to allow for me to either edit something I previously had more to add to, or to add more information that I remember that was not recorded.

Author and Biographer,

John Pirillo

=================================================================================

March 10th, 2010

2am

A location I am not at liberty to divulge

Mister Holmes is seated with me, his good friend Harry Houdini and Doctor John Watson in a friendly manner of intimate friends. I feel honored that he has included me in his circle of friends, despite our rather brief relationship.

Contrary to many views of him in literature, his nose is not so sharp, nor does he always wear a cape and deerstalker hat. When he travels between worlds, as he has this day, and when he intermingles with the populace of a new land, he assumes the clothing common to that time or place. So were you to bump into him, you might totally miss what you had done.

Today, he sits in an easy chair, right leg crossed over the left, wearing jeans and Nikes. His hat is a baseball hat devoid of team attachment and placed backwards on his head, as is the style these days. He wears a plaid shirt and white tie with a "Global Warming" is real button on its lapel. 

He does not smoke his pipe in deference to my own dislike of smoke, but instead chews gum, which he has found to be a charming side aspect of his journey here and a pleasing find.

Doctor Watson does, however, continue to wear a traditional British suit, and carry his black medical bag. 

"Always have to be ready." He assured me before we sat for this interview.

Harry, on the other hand, is quite the visual find. He is a dandy of the first kind, colorful and bright in every way. Had he been born in the Sixties he would have fit right in, but of course in Victorian London he has to squash his more outlandish tastes to accommodate the more proper English ways.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you gentlemen for taking the time to allow this interview. I realize you are all quite busy with your current pursuit."

Sherlock looked at me in that classic pose and said, "Our pleasure, Mister Pirillo. You've done such a fine job keeping track of our exploits that even Watson here has had to retire from his journal."

Watson gave Sherlock a scowl.

"Not that that was ever a problem for me."

Watson brightened a moment, then realized Sherlock was working his emotions as usual. "That may be, but I still intend to take charge of our biography at some point again." Beneath his breath. "If we can every find a moment of peace, that is. Bloody hell if that ever happens!"

I laughed.

Watson scowled a moment at me, then smiled. "I apologize for my rudeness, it's the stress of the chase. My Victorian manners are taking a nasty beating from it I suspect."

"No problem." I told him.

Watson leaned closer from his chair and asked in a hopeful manner. "You wouldn't, perhaps, happen to have some scones, would you?"

I got up and went into the kitchnette of our meeting place, came back out with a steaming pot of coffee and a large plate of scones. Watson's eyes lit up as they usually did when presented with the pleasant challenge of eating down a plate of scones.

"I shall love you forever."

I laughed. "I'll settle for continuing this interview."

"Right. Sorry."

Harry took a scone on a napkin onto his lap, then poured some coffee. "I hear this city is famous for magicians."

"Not so famous as you, Harry." I told him proudly.

He gave me a grateful look. 

"I'd very much appreciate it if you could guide me to a local magician's show, I'd like to see more of what your world considers magic."

"My pleasure. I'd love to, Harry."

 

At that particular moment I checked my cell phone. I'd forgotten to recharge it that morning, but I thought we'd have enough to record the interview. I was mistaken of course.

"That's an odd device, Mister Pirillo." He pointed to my cell phone which was peeping from my shirt pocket. I wore a crisp white starched shirt and tie in honor of the men visiting me. Wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible.

"It allows us to communicate with each other."

Sherlock plucked it from my pocket and rolled it around in his  hands, his eyes taking in the shape and details of it. It lit up when he touched its face, revealing a clock, weather and time.

"Absolutely stunning." He commented, handing it back to me.

One thing I've learned over the years when I meet with them is that they are quite forward and pretty much unafraid of saying or doing anything, unless it was improper. Evidently, snatching cell phones from a person's pocket did not fit in the latter category.

Sherlock gave me that  steely gaze. "I believe I've offended you."

"Not in the least." I lied.

He smiled. Didn't believe it for a moment. But for the honor of both our sakes, he lapsed into silence.

Harry finished his scone the same time as Watson and reached for another. "I seem to remember seeing Wells and Jules with such a device when I traveled with them last time in the Master of the World."

He stopped eating for a moment, as if the thought he spoke next struck him as significant. "You wouldn't happen to know them as well, would you?"

Again, Sherlock gave me that piercing look. He knew I had. It was obvious because it took me longer than usual to cover my tracks. "Uh. Briefly. Never for long."

When in fact I had spent a great deal of time with them, as well as Stephen Hawking, who had helped them with working out the String Theory they had been working on and utilized in their amazing vessel.

"I believe our host would like to start the interview." Sherlock reminded everyone. "And our time is running short. We have to make that..."

"Tram." I told him.

"Tram before it embarks."

Watson wiped his mouth and sighed. "You have our deepest apologies. It's just such a relief to come to a world that has so little violence in it."

I laughed.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked ,surprised at my response.

"Nothing. I'll tell you next time. And I'll also give each of you a cell phone next time for you to play with."

Their faces lit up like a child's might. Even the Master Detective licked his lips in anticipation, though I'm sure had he wanted one, he could have easily managed to take it without being noticed.

"Okay, let's begin."

"Doctor Watson, let's begin with you."

Watson blushed. "Surely Sherlock is more interesting than I?

"Everyone knows you are a modest man." I looked at Sherlock as well. "Even you. Though Harry..." I laughed. "Harry not so much."

Harry laughed too. "Read me like a book."

I smiled back at him, then turned my attention to Watson again. "My reading audience is intrigued by your tenacity when following a case with Mister Holmes."

II looked at Sherlock and he nodded his head, indicating he was okay with the direction I was heading. "Have you ever found a time when the danger of such missions created a...uh...chance of you harming those you love, and in particular harming your friendship with Mister Holmes?

Watson leaned forward and put his chin between his hands, thinking deeply on what to speak next, then he looked up. "The one time that comes prominently to my mind was when I and Sherlock..." Smiles at his friend. "...were on a special mission to the East India Isles."

Sherlock's face grew alarmed briefly. " John, you never spoke of that as being a worrisome time for you. This is most alarming."

"I didnt' mean to frighten you, Sherlock, but sometimes a man has to remain quiet for his own honor's sake." Watson gave Sherlock an apologetic look. "I didn't want to burden you more than you already were.

Sherlock reached across Harry and pressed Watson's right knee in an uncharacterically warm gesture. "You will never be a burden to me, Watson. Ever!"

As I watched that brief illumination of the depth of their friendship, I couldn't help but feel tears touch my eyes. The warmth between these men, despite current literature, is vast and strong. Though I have to remind my audience that this Sherlock is not the original one, who died most foully at the hands of that monster Professor Moriarity. This Sherlock comes from one of the overlapping dimensions wherein he lost his good friend Watson. So both these men had a tremendous history of loss and I could  sense the depth of love they bore towards each other because of that and their renewed friendship from their meeting on their present world.

Harry poured another cup of coffee, then plucked a yellow packet up. I shook my head at him. "What's wrong?"

"Poison your body." I told him.

"Then why are you serving it."

"I didn't. The maid is forced to add it to t he serving."

"Oh, I see, on your world maids poison the hotel guests."

I laughed. "Something like that."

He gave me a blank look, then reached for a plastic wrapped container of honey. He held it up. I nodded okay. 

Harry plucked it open, then poured it into his new cup of coffee as he spoke. "I have to admit Holmes that it was I, not Watson, who put a damper on that episode."

"How so?"

"I knew that if you forced Watson to rush back to the rescue of Mrs. Hudson, you would also be rushing back to your death, as it was a trap for all of us. The  only thing to do was to keep you with us and expediently return to rescue Mrs. Hudson, whom my magic told me was safe enough at that time."

Sherlock gave Harry a stern look. "We will talk about this further later." Ominous pause. "After our interview is completed."

Watson turned to eye Harry angrily. "Both of us will."

Harry exhibited his usual pomp and shrugged. "What will be, will be."

"We were on the trail of an especially murderous villain, related to the Hollow Man. We had discovered his presence through the help of our good friend, Captain Nemo." Watson went on, ignoring Harry for the moment. These men had a temptuous relationship at times, but loved each other dearly. I know. I've chronicled their lives for years now.

"I still can't get over how all these famous men live in your world at the same time.  You, Harry, Sherlock, Watson, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." I remarked, adjusting the notes on my lap. I had meant to go more deeply into that incident, but saw now that might be starting a fire I wouldn't be able to put out. So I diverged into a different and hopefully safer direction.

Watson shrugged. "You forget the good Count Dracula, Robert Louis Stevenson, Madame Curie."

"Nonsense, Watson. He knows of them all." Sherlock cut in.

"True, Sherlock, but his audience doesn't know of all."

"Nor will they if you keep interrupting him." Harry added.

Both Sherlock and Watson gave him scowls. Harry shuffled uneasily on his chair and plunged into the scones again to divert attention away from himself.

Watson looked back at me. "Have you not written us that way? How could it be any other then?"

My eyes began to water again. My writing had opened doors that I never thought possible and having these great men in the same room with me, is as wonderful as it is for some of you to have a Beatle, a Sandra Bullock, a George Lucas or Steven Spielberg. For me it's always been my Victorian friends.

I went on. "And yet, despite what I write of you, your lives continue unabated without a single further input from me.  Why is that?

They all looked at each other, but Sherlock answered.  "I can enlighten you as to that, Mister Pirillo."

Everyone looked at him , including me.

"Einstein and Edison have come up with a theory that encompasses the relativity of our two dimensions and all the others that overlap each other and ours.

I'm sure my eyes must have lit up at that moment. I knew what I had written, but they were about to tell me what they had discovered on their own without my input.

"I'd love to hear it."

(At that point I had to stop because my cell phone went black. The power had drained out. It would take at least an hour to charge it up again.

Please forgive me for this small break, because I have to recharge it.

All my work is being encoded and typed for me on my computer as I  interview our esteemed gentlemen by a program called Dragon Naturally Speaking.

I will return later in the day with further elements of this interviews as I am able.

 

Rebirth of Mothra...Mothra's Death...video

Buck Rogers, Great Golden Age Movie Serial, Chapters 5 and 6

Buck Rogers, a Golden Age Classic Serial starring Buster Crabbe, Chapters 3 and 4.

Shadows of Tomorrow A Samuel Light Junior Story By John Pirillo

Shadows of Tomorrow

A Samuel Light Junior Story

By John Pirillo

He kicked up his heels. Literally. School was out. No more crazy days trying to get homework done while fending off earthbound spirits, no more students trying to copy his homework, no more 

teachers grousing about how horrible they have it. Not that they didn't. He just thought they ought to get together and actually do something about it, instead of always complaining.

"Today's the day I have fun, fun, fun." Sammie told himself as he stepped into Bus 101, the bus he always took home.

"Howdy, Samuel." Mister Faraday told him. He was the bus driver. He had a green aura that bobbed around when he laughed, but lately his aura had sprouted a large dark area around his heart. Samuel wasn't quite sure how to relate to that. Usually, a dark aura meant the person was being negative, or mean, or both. But when it was just a tiny area. He'd have to talk to his mother about it when he got home. She was up to that kind of stuff. He was still learning.

"Hey Mister Faraday! How's life treating you?"

"It's great to be alive." He answered, his smile somewhat fading, but then he perked up. "But actually, it's just great. Get seated, Samuel, I'm closing the door and leaving."

"Gotcha!" Samuel said, climbing into the seat next to raven-haired Wendy. He called her Wendy, but her real name was Petunia, which she hated, so he called her Wendy after the witch that Casper befriended. She liked that. It made her feel special.

"Sam." She greeted, not looking up from the phone in her lap, on which she was flicking through a series of WebPages.

"What's cool?" He asked.

"Getting home." She answered a bit too shortly.

That sent off an alarm bell. Her father must be drinking again. No wonder she was riding the bus.

"Alive." She finished.

"I'm sorry." He told her.

She looked up, startled by his words. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Just....sorry."

Her eyes began to water. "Bug off, Sam; you're starting to get on my nerves."

He took the hint and slid over to the other side of the bus. It was an empty seat. He wasn't afraid of her; he just respected her desire to be private. Before he had slid over, he had touched her binder and felt a shiver of information stream from it up his arm and into his brain. It took only a couple moments to decipher it.

She was in a heap of deep doo doo.

He kept his eyes on her, not sure exactly how to help her. You see, Samuel's problem is that he doesn't like to see anyone sad or hurt. It's something he picked up from his Mom, who was always helping the luckless, the unloved and the unwanted. She worked as a volunteer at the local hospital and went to Old Age homes to read stories to the elders there who couldn't get about, and to comfort the ones who were sad. This pretty much fitted the description of every one of them. Alone and feeling abandoned by their loved ones and betrayed by life and the God they had believed in.

He knew most of it was surface and they didn't really feel that way, but sometimes their loneliness over rode their heart and good sense. That's where his Mom came in. She told them about what death was really about. A transition. That's all. Just like stepping from one car into another. Many of them laughed when she said that, and he smiled at the thought of that. Some grew angry, saying it was blasphemous, they were going to hell and she was leading the way. But most of them felt comforted by her words, less fearful.

"I'm sorry." Wendy said to him from across the bus.

He looked over.

"No problem. Wanta talk?"

"No!" She growled and looked away again.

He laughed.

She looked up and scowled at him. "Why are you laughing at me?"

"I'm not laughing at you; I was just thinking how silly we human beings are."

"Well, you for one, Samuel Light Junior, are one of the most silly of them all. You're..."

Her next words were lost because Mister Faraday slumped over in his seat, gasping in pain and the bus swerved hard to the left. The kids up front saw and screamed. Samuel looked over and saw what was happening. The bus was about to slam off the road and it was a good forty feet down from there.

He dove off his chair and dashed to the seat where Mister Faraday sat and grabbed the wheel. The bus stabilized, but Mister Faraday's foot was still on the gas. 

The kids grew more panicked when they saw what Samuel was doing and screamed even louder, making it harder for him to concentrate. Finally, he was able to see Al beside him.

"Steer right gently." Al said.

Samuel did. 

The bus rounded a curve gently, but still a bit fast.

"Samuel, you'll need to hit the brakes next."

"But he's in the way."

"I know." Al said, his white hair flopping into his eyes as he spoke. "But I know you can do it. Use your imagination!"

Samuel was about to complain about doing it when he saw why he would have to brake. The lights ahead turned to red and railroad guards began descending as a huge train began rolling up. "Holy!" Samuel started to say.

The kids around him screamed even louder yet, guaranteeing that Samuel would lose his hearing for the next two days.

"Now, Samuel!" Al shouted.

Samuel reacted like a frightened puppy, but instead of running away, he threw himself on Mister Faraday's lap and slammed both feet on the brake.

The bus swerved right and left as he tried to hang on and steer at the same time while pressing the brakes. Mister Faraday was crying out in pain behind him.

The railroad guards neared rapidly. They were ten feet away, then six, then one, then...

Amidst the chaos of screams and brakes that sounded like they were going to explode and streams of fire and smoke hurtling up from the overheated brake hubs, the bus came to a stop, its nose barely touching the train railroad guard.

Samuel flicked off the engine, and then got off Mister Faraday.

Not a voice anywhere in the bus.

Then he turned around. The kids were all looking at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He raised his hands. "I'm going to open the doors. I want all of you off the bus immediately."

He opened the doors. Everyone flew past him at the front and debarked from the bus.

Samuel leaned over Mister Faraday. The black spot had grown over his heart. Samuel felt Al looking at him, but didn't pay him any further attention, but instead pressed his right hand over Mister Faraday's heart.

He could feel the warmth building there, and then a green light of a soft lambent nature began spilling out from between his fingers and into Mister Faraday's chest. As green light intensified Mister Faraday's eyes flickered open. He looked into Samuel's face and smiled. "You always were a good boy."

Then he sighed and stiffened.

His eyes didn't blink. They remained open.

Samuel was frozen in that moment when a grown man's hand touched his shoulder. "Son, better let me get to him."

Samuel backed away and a tall policeman with a warm face and a thick mustache leaned over Mister Faraday and felt his pulse. He then put his keys near the man's nostrils and looked their surface. A fellow policeman looked in.

The tall policeman shook his head at him.

Samuel forgot most of what happened next, because it didn't really matter. He had tried to save Mister Faraday, but it didn't happen. He had died.

Samuel sat on his bed late that night, his Mom seated next to him, her arms around him, holding him as he cried. "I loved that man, Mom. He was so funny and so kind. Why did God take him away like that?"

She kissed his hair and brushed it lightly, trying to soothe him. "God has a plan and it doesn't always fit our pictures."

"I don't think I like that plan."

His Mom started to laugh, and then she stifled it and held him closer. "You will, Samuel. You will. You just need some years to absorb everything you're learning now."

Samuel wiped at his eyes and leaned back into her more. As he did so, he saw Al standing before the foot of his bed, smiling.

"You did well, Samuel."

"I failed."

"No you didn't." Al and his Mom said at the same time.

"I couldn't save him. What's the point of my having so much power if I can't save someone when they need it?"

His Mom held him tighter.

Al spoke. "You can't save everyone, Samuel. Remember that!"

Al faded away, still smiling, but his eyes filled with warmth and kindness.

Samuel hugged his Mom and she held him tight. He had a lot of growing up to do yet. A lot!

The next morning he got on the bus and Wendy was there too. He looked at the new bus driver and began to shake a little inside. He felt a hand touch him lightly. It was Wendy. "Sit with me, Sam."

He did. 

She took one of his hands and squeezed it. "I'm sorry I was so mean to you."

"You weren't..."

She put a finger to his lips to shut him up. "Shut up and let me apologize."

He laughed so hard; she had to take her finger away so he didn't accidentally bite it.

And even though yesterday had been terrible in some ways, this morning was a new day and right then that moment, he was having fun sitting next to Wendy, who began telling him everything that had been bothering her. And in those moments they were as close as any souls could ever be or want to be.

The Last Witch Hunter starring Vin Diesel Movie Trailer....looks awesome!

Buck Rogers with Buster Crabbe, Chapters 1 and 2

If you've seen Flash Gordon, then you have to see this too. Buster Crabbe was the quintessential hero of the Golden Age of Serials.

Fractal Flames

Strap on that old Jetpack "A Rocketman Story" By John Pirillo

Strap on that old Jetpack

"A Rocketman Story"

By John Pirillo

"Yeah. Sure. Like hell I will!" Jet swore as he looked at the inky dinky jetpack that Harry held before him. "You really don't expect me to get into that and try to fly without frying my cajones off, do you?"

Harry, also known as Rocketman, looked at his own suit, which hung nearby, deflated on a large steel rack, and then at Jet's, which a woman could wear around her waist, then shook his head. "Guess not. But it beats ten derbies out of ten in the horse race."

"Yeah. Sure. Harry. You get the big clean suit with no peripheral vision, weighs half a ton, and would crush you as soon as fly you, and I get the cool looking panty wear that will probably burn off my butt and my...you know."

Harry laughed. "Come on, Jet, you can't have it both ways. You want me to keep flying you like I have been?"

Jet turned right and examined the harness apparatus they'd used the last flights, and the bullet marks on its framework and the scorch marks as well. "Might be some improvement. At least I won't be a sitting target in your arms."

"Right on. Instead, you'll be one all by your lonesome." Harry reminded him.

Jet growled, and then eyed Einstein as he came up, his pipe held in his right hand and his mustache twitching from a large grin as he stopped, having overhead the snapping dialogue between the two boys. "I see you two are getting along fabulously."

"Yeah. Just like a cat and a dog." Jet grumbled.

Harry barked with laughter. Jet gave him a dirty look, took the inky dinky jet pack and stomped off. "I'll try it, but if I burn my ass, you're paying, Captain Harry!" He swore, resorting to his least likable appellation of Harry's name.

Harry nodded, doing his best not to laugh. He knew his friend probably would relent, but he also worried too, just like Harry. After all, the jet pack WAS small. Unlike his own which he could climb into and wear like a miniature rocket.

"Look, son." Einstein said, after waiting for Harry to assimilate his thoughts and possibilities. "Every man has to deal with their own mortality. At least you're not in your forties like me, facing death every time he gets up to brush his teeth."

Harry exploded into laughter.

"No, really." Einstein insisted.

Harry shook his head and walked rapidly away, seeking to help Jet deal with his newfound freedom in as safe a way as possible.

Einstein watched a moment, and then turned as Tesla came up and joined him. "They are quite the pair, aren't they?"

"Yes, and without the both of them this war would be a lot tougher, and a lot more dangerous."

"Has Harry stabilized yet?"

Einstein turned to face Tesla. "His interdimensional flights have continued to increase."

"Then you believe him when he says he's experiencing our world in the future, or a future, where Hitler has won?"

"Let's put it this way. I don't disbelieve him, and after all, didn't we originate the interdimensional time crossover equation ourselves when we designed the rocket suit Harry wears?"

"Yes, and that's what worries me. The new one Jet is testing is even bearing even more heavily condensed time matter."

Einstein turned to follow the two young men as they joined up together and headed for the testing area. "Somehow, I think it will turn out all right."

"According to Harry, the future didn't...turn out right."

Einstein looks at him. "I don't believe in accidents. I think it's a warning of what could come if we do not apply ourselves diligently in our defense of humanity."

Tesla shook his head. "I hope so. For our sake and the world's?"

=======================================================

Jet slung the jet pack over his shoulders, while Harry helped him strap it on properly. "This control here. He touched the breastplate, where a spinner and dials glowed brightly. Use the spinner to accelerate and slow down. The dial on the right, press it to turn right..."

"Yeah, yeah I know. Dial on left, press to burn my ass off on a tight left turn."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad you're taking this so well."

"I wouldn't be if you weren't coming along with me. If I go up in flames, I want you to be there to go down with me."

"What a comforting thought." Harry said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Jet suddenly gave Harry a hug.

"Wish me luck and last one to the Tower of London's a big baby!"

Jet ran up the ramp to the outside of their bunker, pressing the spinner and twirling it, sending bright blue rays from the rear of the jet pack as he leaped at an angle. In moments he had cleared the ramp and shot off towards the distant Swiss mountains on the other side of the valley their base was hidden above.

Harry ran like crazy to get into his rocket suit.

=======================================================

Jet adjusted the mike on his throat. "Red Dog, can you read me? Over."

A crackling came from the receiver in his right ear. He pounded it lightly and caused himself to fall into a spin for a moment, until he adjusted his rockets and attitude. 

"Red Dog here. Over. Ready for those hot dogs yet?"

"You shut your mouth, Harry!" Jet yelled, the air blasting into his throat as he did.

He touched a control on his chest and a helmet slid from the back of his suit and over his face. "Now that's cool, man!" He muttered.

Suddenly a rush of wind whipped by him and he almost lost control again.

"Yoo-hoo!" Harry cried out as he shot past in his Rocketman suit.

Jet gave him a three fingered salute, and then poured on the juice.

As he did he felt this kind of wobbly motion in his belly and head, as if he was going to throw up, and then the Swiss valley below vanished and he found himself soaring over a huge metallic city with gigantic bombers guarding it, their wings emblazoned with Nazi Swastikas.

"Holy Crap!" He cried out.

His helmet receiver spiked with sound. "Vo getzen?"

Jet laughed. "Come on, Harry. How did you pull this off?"

"Sprechen sie nun, vo getzen?"

"Oh crap!" Jet cursed, and then shot away to his left.

He felt rather than saw a burst of radiant energy sear the space he had just flown through. He rolled frantically a moment, striving to avoid the brunt of the energies and managed, but not without hurtling himself towards a gigantic tower. As he closed in he saw a gigantic soldier, a Super Soldier, a giant over eight feet tall with muscles that would make the Hulk jealous, and a huge weapon that looked like an amped up bazooka. 

It spotted him the same time as he spotted it. "Oh really crap!" Jet cursed, and then before he could move in time, something swept by overhead and grabbed him, accelerating him from the launched missile coming from the giant soldier.

"You all right?" He heard in his receiver.

"Yeah. Thanks to you."

He twisted his head to take a look and saw a Rocketman suit unlike any he'd seen before. It was much lighter than Harry's and worn more like clothing than armor. Then he freaked. "Harry?"

The man in the suit turned to look into his face and double freaked. "Jet! But you're dead!"

"Oh holy hell if I am, Captain Harry!"

"But, but...if you're here now, then how...and how...?"

"I'll explain another time. I think you need to let me go, I have a really weird feeling coming on and I suspect if I don't separate from you there's going to be some kind of stupid time convulsion."

"You mean explosion."

"No, I mean...just let me go you big oaf!"

"I love you, Jet!"

"Yeah. I know, brother. Get with it, huh?"

Harry let go and Jet juiced his jet pack and flamed off in a blaze of blue energies. As he did he felt that quiver of upset again and then he found himself plunging towards Lake Lucerne below. Before he could strike the waters, Rocketman swooped down and scooped him up in his arms. "This is getting really freaky, man." Jet said.

Rocketman Harry smiled through his visored helmet. "You don't know the half of it. I was following you, and then boom, you vanished."

"You won't believe where I just went."

"Would you believe me if I said I would?"

Jet sighed. At that moment of his life he would believe anything.

Two Worlds, a CGI Short