Read Dr. Leafhead: Story of a Mad Scientist (Part One) Page 3
- LabCentre, where the most interesting experiments take place.
EASTERN WING - LibraryCentre and Intern Living Quarters.
NORTH-EASTERN WING - Dr. Leafhead's Living Quarters, off limits.
NORTHERN WING - Terrarium.
NORTH-WESTERN WING - StorageCentre.
WESTERN WING - Relaxation Zone, the only assured safe place in the house.
SOUTH-WESTERN WING - Off Limits.
He went on to explain how some of the wings actually occupied different time zones than others.
At this point I passed out and did not see the rest of the movie. Before I woke up I was moved by a pair of robot arms to a bedroom in the Intern Living Quarters.
Then on the First Morning...
...I was startled awake by the intelligent wristwatch I forgot I was wearing.
"THE TIME IS NOW 9:26 a.m!" shouted the robot voice of the watch. "According to my callibration you have undergone the exact optimal length of rest required for experiencing your maximum levels of energy throughout the day. Every minute you choose to sleep in will amplify undesirable feelings of grouchiness."
I tried to sleep-in, but the watch repeated the same announcement after every minute. When 10 or so announcements had gone by with no result it decided to speed up the process by giving me minor electrical shocks.
"You will now be shocked every minute until you are out of bed," stated the watch. "The voltage will also be heightened with each successive shock."
"Thank you," I groaned, heart skipping a beat and feeling groggy from the De-Toxifier.
Before the day's end, I'd feel inspired enough to start writing a private journal, eventually to transform into the document you are now reading.
My room had a picture window view of the front yard. The Universe-Interpreter beckoned me. As I walked out of my room I was greeted by thousands of books on shelves that reached as high as the ceiling. I remembered from the video that my room was connected with the LibraryCentre. On a massive round wooden table in the middle of the room I saw that a note had been left for me. It read:
Good Morning,
Had to leave the grounds on important business. Will return tomorrow. Here is an itinerary of tasks for you to do throughout the day. I have also included a few tips about the house that were not mentioned in the video.
1) Transfer jellyfish from tanks into the salt-water portion of the moat. If you are stung, use vinegar not urine.
2) Place the rye bread into one of the Cryo-Freeze Cabinets located in the StorageCentre. Any setting above 5 will result in freezer-burn.
3) Move the remaining shopping list items into the StorageCentre. The nitrogen must go in the fridge. Keep the Ergonovine out of the sun. Also, the Matter-Rearranger must be locked in the Main Safe, next to the mold colony. The combination to the safe is 30-20-10. The remaining items can go wherever.
4) In the LabCentre look for the room with the green door. Before you enter you must ring the doorbell 7 times and take a bite of the bagel, otherwise a jet of napalm will disintegrate your face and a sharp trip-wire will chop off your feet. The contents of this room would rank among the most coveted by Undercover Intelligence Agents, therefore it is is one of the most dangerously protected rooms in the house. After entering you will find further instructions.
5) If you are compelled to look through the Universe-Interpreter, it is permitted, only do not make any more adjustments.
6) Avoid any food you find in kitchens # 1, 2, 4, 9, 17, 19 and 26. In fact, ordering out is likely the wisest of choices. Meet the delivery person at the front gate. Do not open the gate for anyone under any circumstances. The Intelligence Agents are adept at costumes and trickery.
7) If you have another injury, nearly anything can be fixed with the hospital equipment in the StorageCentre. The De-Toxifier unfortunately suffered overheating as it is prone to do when working with particularly poisoned individuals, so I have rendered it out of order...but aside from the Stitcher, there is also the Re-Organator, the Automated Brain-Surgeon Bot (prototype not for human use), the Limb-Replicator (should you fall into the moat and meet an unstable shark), the Hearing-Laser and finally the X-Ray Umbrella. Detailed directions for each machine supplied within the Main Safe.
Signed,
Dr. Leafhead
P.S. Your breakfast has been left beside this note.
P.P.S. Immediately burn this note after you have sufficiently memorized its contents.
The "breakfast" was a glass jar containing a revolting looking bluish-orange beverage. It had the thick consistency and shimmery rainbow-hue of gourmet corn syrup mixed with a puddle full of gasoline and anti-freeze. It smelled like a dead raccoon stuffed with cloves hanging from an orchid tree in noon-day equatorial sunshine. A previously spilled drop had scorched the table like a cigarette burn. This was another of those moments where I decided to go against my own survival instinct and put faith into the inherent decency of Dr. Leafhead. I drank the nasty beverage. At first my nervous system went into a near-fatal state of shock. My stomach rumbled menacingly enough to send my wristwatch fleeing into the yard to do some unwinding. I got dizzy and laid down. I was appalled the potion was having the opposite effects I'd expected, but sure enough I soon began to feel incredibly revitalized. I could think clearer. My eyes saw everything in sharp detail. The drink was indeed what I hoped for, a supplement of nutrition so perfectly balanced as to temporarily imbue the drinker with the powers of an adequate super-hero. I read the letter once more before setting it on fire.
The first three tasks on the list proved uncomplicated and uneventful, but it was the fourth task I was really interested in. It was the only mysterious quotient on the list. I couldn't wait to go looking for the green door in the LabCentre. It took about an hour before I finally stumbled upon an old door with chipped paint obscured by a succession of three musty bat-filled attics. I rang the bell 7 times and took a bite from the bagel (cinnamon raisin). The security system recognized me as a friendly and thus did not disintegrate my face and/or chop my feet off when I entered.
Inside the green door was a nearly empty room made entirely of shiny silver. It was lit with such powerful fluorescence that my head ached within seconds. On the far wall was a freshly-painted red door. An astronaut's suit was laid out on a table next to another note from Leafhead, which read:
This is the airlock room for the Mars Portal. Do not open the red door before donning the suit, for beyond this room there is no breathable atmosphere. Prepare yourself, you will actually be transported to the planet Mars. It is NOT a virtual recreation realistic enough to trick you into thinking so. I have successfully harnessed a functioning portal to Mars and hidden it within my house. I have learned much about the planetary surface in my years of exploration. Near to the portal on the other side you will find a garden of alien plants. The fertilization system requires daily attention, which is why I need for you to make the journey while I am away. The fertilizer is regulated through a sprinkler system. All you need to do is re-boot the timer every 20 hours. The experiments of the garden range in innocence from mild cooking spices to dangerous psychotropics. The main reason to hide this from the Intelligence Agents would be my dabbling with Martian herbs that cause a state of total submission within the human mind. Do not burn this note inside the airlock. Take it with you to Mars and bury it under a rock or something.
P.S. The portal can only function for a few hours at a time before crashing from exhaustion and not returning for at least 24 hours. Do not lose track of time on Mars or else you will be stuck there until the portal resets.
I decided to go looking for my watch (still missing from its exit at breakfast) before I opened the red door. Just as I had this thought, the watch scurried into the room and leapt onto my arm.
I was ready to go until I realized using a space-suit w
as actually an intricate process about which I knew nothing. The house, having been prompted to anticipate this, lowered a small television screen from above the roof. A 30-minute instructional video played to my educational bemusement.
The watch began a countdown from 2 hours and 43 minutes as I opened the red door.
It was shocking how different Mars really was compared to the fake popular image we had been led to believe in. The first thing I noticed were Leafhead's garden beds of alien herbs and vegetables. But the second thing I noticed, just past the gardens, was the enormous lake of fresh water. Mind-blowing as that was, it was totally outdone by the third thing I noticed...the ancient ruins of a city scattered all the way around the perimeter of the lake. Most of the red bricks and pillars (once the foundation of a buzzing Martian Metropolis) were now crumbled into piles of fine gravel, but every so often a house-like structure stood triumphantly intact against thousands of years of pressure from the natural forces.
It was midday on Mars, so the sky was a bright-orange hue. It was surreal and bizarre. When the sky reflected off the water it appeared as if the lake was filled with the entire universe's supply of Orange Soda.
"30 minutes have passed since the activation of the portal," announced the wristwatch.