Today on Quantum Vibe:
Don't trust those journos
Strip 96 - Click on page above to goto the next page.
First Seen: Mon 2011-05-02
Story & Art: Scott Bieser
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The Transcript For This Page
An image from a Newspage, along with some text, fills a Screen, which itself nearly fills the panel. We can see Nicole's hands holding it on the left and right sides. The image is a high-angle shot of Gary holding the semi-conscious Nicole, who looks very fried from her ordeal. Behind them we can see Seamus and the other two Sun-Shooters. A headline above the image reads: Sun-Diver Flies Home On Brain-Power. A sub-head reads: Ordeal leaves girl barely alive. The other text is unreadable.
Nicole (OP): Omigod, I look horrible!
Establishing the scene. We are in Nicole's recovery room. She is laid out in an auto-doc, which looks like a very comfy hospital bed, with the head-end raised almost to a sitting position. A monitor above her head shows vital-signs readouts. The rest of the room is decorated pleasantly, with stands of artificial flowers here and there. In the room with Nicole are Seamus and the three Sun-Shooter pilots. Gary near on the left, Seamus near on the right, then Bo, then Jake.
Seamus: Well, it's not your best side, I suppose, but having the journos around helped persuade the Dispatcher to play nice.
Three-shot of Gary, Nicole, Seamus. Nicole is still looking at her screen.
Gary: Gee, I thought it was our charisma that made him relent.
Nicole: My mother is going to have kittens when she sees this.
Nicole, Seamus, and Bo.
Seamus: You'll get a chance to look better tomorrow – to get the journos to leave you alone, I've promised them a press conference. You'll be fully recovered and your usual lovely self.
Bo: I don't trust those journos.
Seamus, Bo and Jake.
Seamus: Neither do I, but I'll have a Tel link open to Nicole so I can help her field any difficult questions.
Bo: Good, but that's not what I meant.
Suddenly Claud Southend, the Journo who had tangled with the Dispatcher earlier, bursts into the room.
Claud: Miz Oresme! Iz Claud Southend wid teh Tycho Dispatch! Wazzit lyk flyin wid yr brayn?
Jake, who is remarkably strong despite his short stature, picks up Claud by his collar and the seat of his pants.
Jake: Yer gonna be doing some flying yourself real soon.
Hallway outside the room. Jake gives Claud a toss, and he goes flying in Mercury's 3.7 m/s/s gravity
Claud: Teh publik haz ryt to – ghyaaa!
Jake: To privacy? You bet, Claud.