A chalet in the Swiss Alps. A man in a tuxedo sits at the bar, waiting, looking out at the night and the snow covered hills. He is Danny "The Squid" Tipler.

Another man in a tuxedo approaches him. He is bald and wears a monocle.

Pomeranian
Good evening, Mr. Tipler.

Tipler
Good evening.

Pomeranian
My name is Bluden Pomeranian. May I buy you a drink?

Tipler
Sure.

Pomeranian
What will you have?

He looks at the bartender. The bartender surreptitiously reaches under the bar.

Tipler
I'll have a crantini. Stirred, not shaken.

Pomeranian nods. The bartender withdraws his hand from under the bar and goes down to the other end to make the drink.

Pomeranian
I am glad to hear that, Mr. Tipler. It is how I know you are who you claim to be. Had you asked for anything else, you would be dead now.

Tipler
I know.

He draws back his coat to reveal the gun he has been pointing at Pomeranian since their encounter began. Pomeranian laughs.

Pomeranian
Excellent! So now we know that we trust one another.

The bartender returns and sets the drink in front of Tipler. A gesture from Pomeranian gestures him away again, this time out of the room.

Tipler
I want to thank you, Pomeranian, for getting me out of jail. Anywhere is better than B.C. Penn, but this place beats all expectations.

Pomeranian
I am glad you are enjoying my hospitality. I feel it will be worth my expense to bring you here. You are one of ICBC's best field agents.

Tipler
I've stayed alive, at any rate.

He drinks.

Tipler
Why am I here?

Pomeranian
Mr. Tipler, ICBC like any organization must grow and change in response to its environment. The last eighteen months have been trying ones.

Tipler
You don't have to tell me that.

Pomeranian
Of course not. ICBC has seen many valuable persons in the last while either incarcerated or killed - yourself, Trudeau, Gaas, Opposition Man, Hawking - to name but a few. And the projects they were involved in have all been destroyed with the loss of a great deal of time and money. And behind each of these setbacks are two men - the superheroes calling themselves "Hydrogen Guy" and "Deuterium Boy".

Tipler
The creeps who put me in the joint.

Pomeranian
Correct. However, while the loss of those agents I mentioned are regrettable, they allow us an opportunity to reorganize our command structure - install new people who may be more effective than their predecessors. I, for example, am taking Dr. Hawking's place as head of the European Theatre.

Tipler
Congratulations.

Pomeranian
Thank you. It is well-deserved, I assure you. Also, Mr. Tipler, the organization must commit itself to a more proactive role against Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy. This is the reason that we secured your release from prison and brought you here. We will be placing you in a vice-presidential position in our new Anti-Hydrogen Campaign.

Tipler
Terrific. I'll bring those turkeys to heel, don't you worry about a thing.

Pomeranian
I know you will not disappoint us, Mr. Tipler.

He glances at his watch.

Pomeranian
In a few moments you will be introduced to your immediate superior, Mr. Galerkin. In the meanwhile, perhaps you have some questions I can answer?

For the next fifteen minutes Tipler quizzes his host about the details of the new Campaign and the other organizational changes he alluded to. In the midst of this conversation, a telephone rings behind the bar. Pomeranian reaches around and answers it. After a few terse phrases he hangs up.

Pomeranian
That was the man at the front. They are on their way.

He stands and Tipler follows. Almost immediately the large double doors at the end of the room swing open. A knot of four men enter the room, led by a young, blond man of middle height, tending towards stockiness.

Upon seeing Tipler he stops dead. Pomeranian steps forward, grinning warmly.

Pomeranian
Daniel Tipler, may I present the head of ICBC's Anti-Hydrogen Campaign, Mr. Hans-Raoul Galerkin of Great Britain.

Tipler extends his hand in welcome, but Galerkin explodes.

Hans-Raoul
You idiot! That's Hydrogen Guy!

Pomeranian
What?

Tipler
Uh, there must be some mistake...

Hans-Raoul
Kill him!

Tipler
Dammit!

His entourage reach for the guns. Tipler leaps for his gun sitting on the bar, but it inexplicably flies away from his hand. Shots ring off the bar's brass railing. Seeing no alternative, Tipler runs.

He crashes through a patio door into the cold night. Hans-Raoul's henchmen close behind, he looks around and spots a pair of skis leaning against the railing. He grabs them, snaps his dress-shoes into the bindings (the shoes were designed for just such an emergency), and launches himself off the balcony.

The thugs dash onto the balcony seconds later, shooting after him. Hans-Raoul and Pomeranian follow.

Hans-Raoul
Alert the patrols! I want him STOPPED!

Pomeranian
Hans-Raoul, what is the meaning of this?

Hans-Raoul
I just learned an hour ago that this Tipler was a fake. Apparently CSIS managed to block our request to have Tipler released without telling us.

Pomeranian
How did you learn this?

Hans-Raoul
I looked for it, you idiot.

Pomeranian
But how could you know that was Hydrogen Guy? He only ever appears in costume.

Hans-Raoul
Who else could it be?

Meanwhile, Tipler dodges ICBC ski patrols as he hurtles down the mountain. The thought that he hates skiing passes through his mind repeatedly. He looks back to see six men in ICBC uniforms following him, four on skis and two on snowmobiles. All are carrying rifles, and the snowmobiles appear to be equipped with some kind of mortar. This suspicion is confirmed as he veers frantically away from an explosion on his right.

For several minutes he dodges and weaves desperately avoiding gunshots and mortar fire. Some trick maneuvers requiring uncanny reflexes rids him of two skiers as they suddenly have intimate encounters with trees.

He whizzes past a warning sign in multiple languages. He glances back to see what it was, but too late. He only just realizes what is happening as he hurtles off the giant snowbound cliff.

His remaining pursuers stop short just before the cliff edge. The snowmobiles shine their lights over the edge, and they watch as the black-suited figure disappears into the darkness.

Ski Trooper #1
Idiot.

Ski Trooper #2
He's done. Radio back to base, problem solved.

They turn and start heading back up the slope.

Falling off a mountain at 9.81 meters per second squared is a terrifying experience, even when you know you can slow your descent any time and start floating. "Tipler" fought back his panic as he forced himself to free-fall for a full two minutes, until he was sure he was out of his pursuer's sight. It was with a feeling of relief as he began to reduce his density to that of hydrogen, allowing him to slow his fall and float safely down.

Activating a control on his belt, a pair of miniature jets burst to life, allowing him to control his motion. He looked below him - he was still a couple hundred meters above ground. Scanning the ground, he found what he was looking for - a semi-tractor trailer. His hyper-sensitive sense of smell detected the unique scent of an alien-built hydrogen fuel cell, and he knew his destination was right.

He floated gently down beside the truck, which was concealed behind a gas station in the small mountain town. The truck's heavy artillery, missiles and sensor dish were camouflaged with rock-coloured canvas. He climbed up on the rig's passenger side running board and knocked on the window. The dozing driver jerked awake, looked over. He popped the passenger door open and looked at Jim Evans, world-renowned theoretical physicist and sometime-secret agent, in surprise.

Chuck War
HG, what happened? I wasn't expecting you for hours.

Evans
Chuck - we have a problem.

Hold on the shot of Evans in the truck. Fade to kaleidoscopic montage as an swoping orchestral intro rises to the break; and then...

[Crescendo and outro; segue to title]

Never Say Die Till You're Dead - Part I

...from the Files of Hydrogen Guy

Daybreak in the city of Maple Ridge, British Columbia, Canada - several weeks after our opening sequence. It is another day in the life... of crime! But our heroes are ever vigilant! As we speak, they are clustered round the Hydrogen Cave's Remote Surveillance Centre, providing home-base support in a stakeout of a clandestine ICBC meeting!

Deuterium Boy
But does he even bother to mention we haven't had lunch yet? Noooo... You know, HG, this narrator really bugs me sometimes. Does he ever talk about our needs?

Hydrogen Guy
Stick your needs in a hat, DB. This is a tight situation... [to microphone] Hydrogen Cave to Surveillance Unit 1, do you read me?

Voice of Chuck War
War here. We read you, Hydrogen Cave.

Hydrogen Guy
What is your status?

Voice of Chuck War
Currently staked out across the street from ICBC Claims Centre in Delta.

Hydrogen Guy
Do they know you're there?

Voice of Chuck War
Negative, Hydrogen Cave. I've just been is standing outside the War Rig handing out fudgesicles. I've convinced all observers that we're an ice-cream truck.

Deuterium Boy
I've never seen a Dicky-Dee ice cream truck with twelve-foot Plasma Death heat-seeking missiles before.

Hydrogen Guy
He's covered the artillery - [to microphone] Unit 1, confirm that your artillery is hidden.

There is a significant pause.

Voice of Chuck War
We'll get right on that Hydrogen Cave, over.

Hydrogen Guy throws up his hands and leans back in his chair.

Deuterium Boy
Can I go get a bagel now?

Hydrogen Guy
Yeah, grab me one too. And a juice box.

Deuterium Boy gets up and heads over to the Cave's kitchen area. He keeps talking as he starts rummaging through the fridge.

Deuterium Boy
Are you even sure that this Galerkin is at this meeting?

Hydrogen Guy
That's the point of the meeting, to introduce Galerkin to the North American end of the operation. My contacts were clear on that point.

Deuterium Boy
They were also clear that you could replace Tipler and get away with it. I think you have to consider getting better sources.

Hydrogen Guy
No, Galerkin must have figured it out himself somehow. I can't see how he knew who I was, if ICBC had our identities we'd be dead long ago.

Deuterium Boy returns to the Surveillance Centre with a plate of bagels, various spreads, a juice box and a can of pop.

Hydrogen Guy
This is a major meet, DB. It's tight as a nun, we couldn't get a single surveillance device in the there. This stakeout is our only chance to get some kind of skinny.

Deuterium Boy
And Chuck War takes the War Rig? Couldn't he just rent a car?

Hydrogen Guy
Don't start...

Voice of Chuck War
Hydrogen Cave, do you read me? Someone just came outside... an old man in grey robes and a pointy hat... he's coming this way! Damn it, we've been seen, repeat, Hydrogen Cave, we have been seen! We... FFFFZZZZZZZZ

The radio link dissolves in an alarming burst of static!!

Hydrogen Guy
Surveillance Unit 1, come in! Do you read me? Chuck! Are you there? [to Deuterium Boy] We've lost them!

Deuterium Boy
Hydrogen Guy! What do you think happened?

Hydrogen Guy
Dammit! We can only assume the worst, DB. Come on, we'd better get there and fast. Before it's...

Both
Too Late!

Hydrogen Guy
Quick! To the De Broglie boards!

They dash across the Cave to the closet containing the De Broglie boards - the wondrous colour co-ordinated devices which let our heroes ride, ride, ride the wild surf of matter waves anywhere on the planet. Hydrogen Guy flings open the closet...

Both
GASP!!!

...and to their shock and amazement...

Hydrogen Guy
Great Feynman's Ghost!

Deuterium Boy
Holy Gandalf the Grey, Hydrogen Guy!

... Chuck War, an old man, and several dozen melting fudgsicles tumble out of the closet!

Chuck War
OOF! Dammit, get off me!

Hydrogen Guy
Chuck, what are you doing in the closet?! What happened?

Chuck War shoves the old man off him and gets to his feet.

Chuck War
I don't really know... The radio went dead, and when I saw I'd been discovered, I tried to start up the rig but it wouldn't start... then this... person... walked up and offered me a jump start. Next thing I knew, we were in the closet covered in ice cream.

The old man staggers to his feet, seemingly tangling himself in his own robes, and then straightens himself out in a jumble of limbs. He pulls a fudgesicle out of his robes and starts licking it. He is short, barely coming up to Hydrogen Guy's chin. His disheveled robes are grey and covered in stars, moons, and odd-looking symbols. His rather disreputable pointy hat is similarly adorned.

Hydrogen Guy
And who exactly are you?

He looks startled, and looks around.

Z
Who? Where? Show your face, you sneaky son of an ork! I'll clean your fat hairy clock!!

Chuck War
He's talking to you.

Z
Me? What about me? Oh yes, who, right, I suppose you'd want a name, then wouldn't you? Wouldn't look right to have me in the credits as just Wizard #1 would it? Hmm, name, yes, have to choose something that isn't legally actionable... Z! Yes, I am Z, an all-powerful omni-potent being! Pleased to meet you. Have a fudgesicle? Don't mind if I do!

Hydrogen Guy
How are you involved with ICBC? What did you do with the War Rig? And, most importantly, how did you get in here?

Z
Listen, buddy, I pay my insurance every year just like anyone! And you think that old Tatooine landspeeder can make it through AirCare? Mind you, the Jawas gave me a good deal on it...

Deuterium Boy
He's a raving lunatic.

Hydrogen Guy
Z, please FOCUS. This is not a "Star Wars" movie. I am not Obi Wan Kenobi.

Z
Sorry! Mind wanders you know... your friend here was having some car trouble, so I thought I'd just... er, well, you know... teleport him back. I was a little off, mind you, wasn't aiming for the closet...

Chuck War
... and my War-Rig?

Z
Orbiting Pluto, I'm afraid.

Chuck War
Why you little ... !! There was nothing wrong with that motor!! You made it stall, didn't you?!

Z
Woo hoo! Boys, I think you're mistaken about who the loony is around here!

He twirls his index around the space beside his ear. Deuterium Boy barely restrains Chuck War.

Chuck War
Lemme go, DB! I'll shove that fudgesicle up his -

Deuterium Boy
Chuck, calm down!

Hydrogen Guy
Z, what do you know about this new ICBC kingpin? A man named Hans-Raoul Galerkin.

Z
Nasty customer, him. Bad, bad Hans-Raoul, baddest man in the whole damn, er, well, stool. Nasty, yes. Reminds of the incident of the Greek interpreter... Mycroft insisted I help him find this Latimer character... "Why don't you ask that coke-fiend brother of yours," I told him...

Hydrogen Guy sighs and massages his forehead with his fingers. He turns to Deuterium Boy and Chuck War.

Hydrogen Guy
Even if he is a member of ICBC, I don't think we'll be to get anything useful out of him.

Deuterium Boy
What do we do with him?

Chuck War
I've got a few ideas, but I don't think Amnesty International would approve

Hydrogen Guy
All right, Z, enough of this charawd...

Z
Charade, you mean.

Hydrogen Guy
No, I mean charawd, dammit! Look, it's imperative we get back to the ICBC Claims Centre in Delta. The future of the Free World may depend on it!

Z
Future of the Free World? But of course it does! You have to stop Hans-Raoul before it's [pauses dramatically] Too Late! Wait, no that didn't work right... before it's... Too Late! No, TOO LATE...

Deuterium Boy
No, I think you mean... before it's...

All
Too Late!

Z
That's it!

Hydrogen Guy
Z, I want you to do something for me. You know how you brought Chuck War back to the Cave? I want you to take us back to the ICBC Claims Centre in Delta - no other Claims Centre anywhere else, and no side-trips to Pluto - the same way. Can you do that?

Z
Of course! Too late, future of the Free World... I've got just the thing for it... real whiz-banger of a spell...

He stuffs the remains of his fudgesicle in his mouth, pulls out the empty stick, and tosses it away. He makes a great show of rolling up his sleeves and getting into a proper conjuring stances. He begins waving his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air. He chants strange words under his breath.

The onlookers are amazed as a glowing field forms in front of him - the so-called wizard is not entirely a crackpot after all! Slowly expands to encompass the group. Then, with a crack of thunder, a flash of light, and a plume of smoke - Z, Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy vanish!

Chuck War looks around to find himself alone in the Hydrogen Cave in a pool of melting ice cream.

Chuck War
DAMN!!

The scene is North Delta, several kilometers west of Maple Ridge and on the south side of the river. The year is 2135... It is nightfall. The debris covered street is quiet, for now, but the sound of sirens and automatic weapons fire echoes in the distance. A glowing white ball of light appears amid the ruins of a bombed-out building. Is it lightning? Toxic radiation? The ball grows and, with a flash, crash and a pungent odour, three figures appear in its place...

Hydrogen Guy
WHERE THE HELL ARE WE?

Z
The future of the Free World, of course. Before it's Too Late.

He looks around proudly. His face falls, and he scratches his head, dislodging his hat forward.

Z
Hmm, actually seems to be after it's Too Late... on second thought, maybe you were right about Hell the first time...

Deuterium Boy
Are you saying this is the future?

Z
Late twenty-one thirties, I think, or one possible version there-of... Hang on, let me check the guide book.

He starts searching through his robe, which has no visible pockets.

Z
Right at the old ICBC Claims Centre... mind you, ICBC hasn't controlled this sector in years... where is that darned guide book?

Hydrogen Guy
Take us back to our time RIGHT NOW!!

Z
Absolutely out of the question, I'm afraid.

Deuterium Boy
Excuse me?

Z
We're far too close to our last temporal leap to attempt another... The spell I used pops a hole in space-time and creates what I suppose you'd call a wormhole between two different here-nows. Re-opening the rift so close in space-time to our last transition point would make the event horizon of a black hole look like a picnic. Picnic, that's it, I left the guide book in the picnic basket on the kitchen counter...

Hydrogen Guy
And how far do we have to be from the original transition spot?

Z
Not long, really. Four years, eight months, 23.633 days is the usual waiting period, plus a couple of two day follow-ups. Or we could do it spatially... I think Alpha Centauri should be far enough...

Deuterium Boy
Is there ANY OTHER WAY to get back?!

Z
Course there is! There's as many ways to travel in time as there is in space, dontcha know... wormhole, stellar slingshot effect, relativistic effects, tachyon piggy-back (always get time-sick when I do that one), temporal contemplation fields, Galifreyan telephone phone booth... scads of ways!

A look of embarrassment crosses his face.

Z
Unfortunately I've forgotten how to do them all. Cooking with aluminum pots, you know.

Deuterium Boy
Oh, fucking fabulous.

Hydrogen Guy
Right then... we need to examine the good and bad points of this situation... The good points are that we still have our super-powers and Z here is at least marginally competent. The bad points...

Suddenly they are caught in the glare of a search-light. Bullets streak past as unknown assailants open fire! The Diatomic Duo dive behind a nearby pile of rubble and hit the ground, pulling Z down with them.

Deuterium Boy
We're good for target practice, apparently.

Voice over Loudspeaker
Vagrants! You have violated Telus sector integrity. Surrender immediately and you may not be terminated. You have one minute to comply.

Hydrogen Guy
We've been captured by the phone company?

Z
Guess you didn't pay your bill.

Deuterium Boy
What are our options?

Z
Death. Or surrender, then death. Seven of one, half dozen of the other.

Voice over Loudspeaker
Vagrants! You have 30 seconds to comply...

Deuterium Boy
We could attack - take out whatever's out there with our hydrogen powers...

Z
Better luck freezing your tongue to Mephistopheles' ass, kid. Those armoured patrol vehicles can survive an antimatter rocket assault.

Voice over Loudspeaker
Vagrants! You have 15 seconds; do not abuse our leniency...

Hydrogen Guy
Bloody hell... [stands up] We surrender!

The three rise, squinting into the search light and raising their hands. A crackling beam envelops them and they freeze in place.

Voice over Loudspeaker
Bottle them up and take'em down to headquarters, Lieutenant!

The crackling is joined by a sucking sound - like a vacuum cleaner - as our heroes' atoms are torn apart and sucked into a magnetic containment bottle - a routine form of prisoner transport in the 22nd century, and extremely painful. The search light shuts off, and Telus armoured patrol vehicle rumbles away into the night...

Great Scott!!Have the Covalent Crusaders and the enigmatic Z met an untimely end at the end of time? Can they escape the clutches of the next century's power mad phone company? And how, dammit, are they gonna get home? Only one way to tell: catch PART II of...

Never Say Die Till You're Dead
Same Hydrogen time... Same Hydrogen website!