Channel 37 Moves to a New Home!

Channel 37 is pleased to announce that we’re moving to a brand-new, state-of-the-art studio! Turn your dial to www.channel-37.net and prepare to be amazed . . .

Beginning with the next installment of They Came from New Jersey this Tuesday, all Channel 37 programming will be broadcast from our shiny, Chevy Engine Red-and-chrome headquarters. From there, you’ll be able to read the latest installments of our current stories, get the latest news about what’s happening at Channel 37 (we have some big news — go see!), read about exciting and fun developments in the world of retro-SF in the InterWebs, and — coming soon — you’ll be able to buy e-books of Channel 37 stories and original fiction, plus fun Channel 37 swag too.

So be sure to update your bookmarks to our new address. Once again, that’s www.channel-37.net. See you there!

The Vermilion Gambit – Part 1

Dawn on the ecliptic. In terms of the physics, it’s not the same as a terrestrial dawn, but the effect on the mind is the same. Planets large and small — pale and cratered, large and colorful, elegantly ringed, or simply unadorned — swing by. Countless stars shine, as featureless as if poked through a black curtain. Just another stately cosmic morning, until off in the distance to the left a tiny moving speck appears. Gaining speed, it grows as it approaches, resolves into a finned silver rocketship leaving a teardrop of exhaust in its wake. As it approaches, the lettering on the side becomes clearer: Galactic Repair Services. And on the nose, below the curved window: Ranger.

On the other side of the window, Chuck Banner sat in his padded command chair, his feet up on the console, contemplating the dawn. He yawned and stretched, clearly uncomfortable in his silver space suit. Idly, he reached overhead and flicked several switches.

Behind him, a spacetight door slid open. A clunky service robot waddled in carrying a large thermos in its right claw. It stopped next to Banner and turned its cylindrical head toward him.

“would you like your coffee chuck,” the robot spoke in a metallic monotone, his light-bulb eyes flashing with each syllable.

Banner casually reached over to take the flask. “Thanks, F.R.E.D.D. How long until we reach our next delivery?”

“we are scheduled to arrive at space station x-9a in two hours forty-seven minutes at present speed.”

Banner took a sip of the coffee. “Still no word from the Dispatcher on what our cargo is?”

The tape reels on F.R.E.D.D.’s barrel chest whirred and clicked for a moment. “negative.”

“Ever since we picked up that container on planet Chartia Three I’ve been a little spooked. I like knowing what I’m delivering. But the Dispatcher was pretty good at avoiding the details. Except for the part about ‘Don’t open the container under any circumstances.’ She was explicit about that.”

“agreed.”

On the console in front of Banner, a yellow light blinked, accompanied by an insistent beeping. The small monitor speaker next to the light began to glow.

“incoming message from the dispatcher,” F.R.E.D.D. said.

“Maybe now we’ll find out what our little secret mission is all about.”

They Came From New Jersey – Part 5

Daily Intelligence Update
—
(24) Convicted Nazi war criminal Heinrich Doetz was executed in Wiesbaden, West Germany at 0600 GMT. He evaded capture for several years. His promotion to Reich Marshall was just several hours before Hitler’s death. His orders to place children and women on the lines against American and Russian troops caused his conviction of “Crimes against Humanity.” Doetz last words were, “From the rubble of Berlin, the Phoenix Brotherhood will rise. Beware America, for we will consume you!”

Colonel Fitzhugh knocked softly on the door to Major Candace Dare’s room. A curt “Come,” came through the door.

Fitzhugh opened the door to find Dare lowering her Luger. “I thought you were Helga Hotstuff.”

“You were going to shoot her? I thought we talked,” Fitzhugh said.

“About not shooting Von Zorm, if I remember correctly.”

“Perhaps I should take your Luger away from you. I want to be clear that you are not allowed to shoot anyone.”
Fitzhugh closed the door and sat at a small desk in the room. Dare put her pistol in her handbag.

“Well, Major, what did you think about dinner last night?”

Dare sat at the end of her immaculately made bed.
“He certainly feels he’s God’s gift to the planet, doesn’t he, Colonel?”

“Yes, he does. He kept steering the conversation away from what he is doing here. We have to be firm today, we must see what is really going on.”

A knock at the door ended conversation. Major Dare walked to open the door. “Yes?”

Helga “Hotstuff” Haniker stood in the hallway. “Ah, Herr Colonel and Fraulein Major are asked to come to the dining room for breakfast. The Doctor hopes to show you all his progress today.”

“Thank you, Miss Haniker,” Fitzhugh said. “We’ll be right there.”

Helga smiled and nodded, turning to walk away.

Dare closed the door, “Do you think we are really going to get the tour?” she asked.

“Only one way to find out” Fitzhugh pointed to the door.

We Will Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

Due to technical difficulties, we are unable to bring you our regularly scheduled program. We apologize for the inconvenience, but we assure you that we are hard at work to bring you an exciting new serial that we know you’re going to love: The Adventures of Space Repairman!

In the meantime, stay tuned for next week’s regular installment of They Came from New Jersey! over most of these stations.

They Came From New Jersey – Part 4

Daily Intelligence Update
—
(14) The prototype YB-52 arrived at Nellis Air Force Base for extensive testing. The “Stratofortress” will be the Air Force’s newest long range bomber, pending successful tests. Operational details are still classified and on a “Need to Know” basis only.

Colonel Fitzhugh found Major Candace Dare at the dining table. A cup of steaming coffee sat in front of her. He watched as she meticulously cleaned her pistol.

“A Luger? Seriously Major?” Fitzhugh asked.

“I got this from a fine German officer. Number sixty-seven or eight, I believe.”

“Not a powerful as a 45, I’m afraid.”

Dare laughed. “Who need power when you have accuracy? Besides nine millimeter is the future.”

“You can keep your little pea-shooter, Major. I’ll keep my Colt, thank you. Where’s the coffee?”

Dare nodded her head without dropping her pistol. “There’s some eggs and sausage there too.”

Fitzhugh didn’t feel like breakfast, but knew it would be a long day. He went over and put a couple of sausages with some eggs and filled a coffee mug. He sat across from Dare.

“So, Colonel, what are we expecting today?” asked Dare.

Fitzhugh took a sip of the coffee, decided it wasn’t half bad. “We are expecting to meet Dr. Herbst Von Zorm. We will see how his experiments are coming along. The Pentagon wants some sort of update before they renew Recalcitrant Laboratories contract.”

“You mean Recalcitrant has been running the experiments?”

“Yes, Major. The army contracted Recalcitrant Labs for this project. Von Zorm is the director of the Frenchman’s Flat Facility.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of an ex-Nazi working for the lowest bidder, Colonel.”

Major Dare pulled back the action on her Luger and pulled the trigger. The click of the firing pin in the empty chamber resounded through the room. She started loading the clip.

“Promise me, Major, that you’re not going to shoot Von Zorm.”

The Terror from the Other Dimension! – Part Fourteen

In preparation for the coming invasion, the nations of the world joined together in common purpose for the first time in human history, the reporter typed. To the front line of this global battlefield — the now-fabled coordinates of 39^o 25′ North, 141^o 47′ West — every navy in the Pacific, including the mystery-shrouded Soviet Union, rushed hundreds of its most powerful ships: proud aircraft carriers large and small, hulking battleships, nimble cruisers, and sleek submarines, all guarded by an umbrella of hundreds of jets of every kind.

Patiently, eagerly, menacingly, they circled the barren patch of ocean unified in purpose and determined to throw their combined might against the expected flying saucer invasion. Here was where humanity prepared to fight the opening skirmish of the Battle for Earth.

* * *

“The rest of the fleet is in place, Admiral.”

Admiral Crane took the proffered clipboard from his yeoman and scanned the list with a nod of approval. “The largest naval force since Leyte Gulf. We might not be able to stop the flying saucers, but we sure can give them a bloody nose.” A formation of jet fighters roared low overhead, adding emphasis to his assessment. “How far out are we, Captain?”

Captain Richardson of the aircraft carrier Iwo Jima lowered his binoculars and leaned over the shielded radar display. “We’ll arrive at the designated coordinates in less than fifteen minutes, sir. We’re still steaming at full speed.”

“Very well. And we’re sure that those coordinates mark the location of the dimensional portal?”

“Yes, sir. The Peregrine confirmed it before we lost contact with her.”

Admiral Crane shook his head, handing the clipboard back to his aide. “Poor devils. At least we can avenge their deaths.” His voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty that undercut the bravado of his words.

“Yes indeed, Admiral. It’s going to be one for the history books.” Captain Richardson replied, sounding equally unconvinced. He raised his binoculars. “There’s the fleet now, Admiral.”

Admiral Crane hurried to the window. “Incredible.” Arrayed before them, the multi-national armada stretched from horizon to horizon.

“Radar contact!” the radar officer shouted, breaking the awed silence. Admiral Crane and Captain Richardson rushed to the display scope to watch the green sweeping arc of the radar signal. The screen displayed a large, amorphous blob in the sky, growing larger with each sweep. “Anomaly detected sir! I think it’s the portal.”

Admiral Crane looked up, and watched as a point of bright light appeared in the sky and began to expand. “Signal the fleet to stand by for action.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Captain Richardson hurried from the bridge to the combat command center.

Admiral Crane raised his binoculars slowly to his eyes. “Here we go,” he said quietly.

They Came From New Jersey – Part 3

Daily Intelligence Update
—
(14) The Tikaboo Valley Gazette reports three cows near Rachel, Nevada have been found dead. The cows were inflicted with wounds from an unknown source. Farmers in the area first thought that coyotes were attacking livestock. The brutality of the attacks suggests either a Satanist type cult, or another predator. Panthers have been known in the region, but the wounds on the cows suggest otherwise. Local Nevada authorities continue to investigate.

Major Dare stood waiting by the converted C-47 as Colonel Fitzhugh arrived at the airfield. He watched as she walked over to his car and opened the door.

“Good morning, Colonel. Our flight is just about fueled,” she told him.

“Why are we taking this gooney bird?” Fitzhugh asked.

“All that’s available on short notice, Colonel.”

“We could walk faster.”

“We could stand here all day and try to decide, or we could get on and least head that way,” Dare said.

Fitzhugh sighed and climbed in.

Fitzhugh looked at the interior. The leather seats looked more comfortable than any he saw on a military plane. Tables were placed between the seats to allow conferences.

“So what general gave up his flying office?” Fitzhugh asked.

“I called in a favor,” Dare answered.

A major stood at the front cabin door.

“Colonel, if you and the major would buckle up, we’ll get on our way.”

“Sure thing, Major. How long will the flight be?”

“Well, it will take about fifteen hours at normal cruising speed, plus a refuel.”

“Any way of boosting that, Major?”

“I can push it a little, Colonel, but then we’d have to make two refuels. But we’d gain about three hours, and maybe we’ll get a tailwind.”

“Do the best you can do, major, the faster the better.”

The major closed the door. Colonel Fitzhugh and Major Dare sat opposite each other and buckled up.
“I’ve arranged that there will be no flight crew. And Major Doring, the pilot, will not come through the door unannounced, so we will have complete privacy,” Major Dare said.

Fitzhugh was getting a little uncomfortable. “Because…why?”

The Terror from the Other Dimension! — Part Thirteen

And with that, the race to Earth was on, typed the reporter. Who would win? The pokey little Navy blimp and its gallant crew, or the awesome fleet of sleek, powerful flying saucers? The reporter paused, picked up the tumbler next to his war-scarred Remington, and drained the last of his scotch. After a few moments of staring into the middle distance, the reporter smiled and pushed the carriage return lever to feed a new line.

Once in a blue moon, the safest bet is on the horse with the longest odds.

* * *

The Peregrine picked up speed slowly, bucking all the way as if reluctant to respond to the firewalled throttles. But within a minute the ship was nearly at top speed and climbing toward the peak of the tower dominating the flat alien landscape — featureless except for the circular openings in the ground under which which were parked the fleets of waiting flying saucers.

“Tower dead ahead,” Lieutenant Stewart called out over the deafening roar of the twin Pratt & Whitney radials mounted on outriggers behind them.

“Please don’t say ‘dead,’” Professor Abbot said. Stewart and Captain Darrow chuckled ruefully.

“Are we going to make it?” the professor asked no one in particular. The peak was looming in the panoramic windows of the blimp’s gondola, growing closer but not descending appreciably.

“Come on, baby,” Darrow said through clenched teeth, his right hand continuing to push the throttles even though they could move no further. “A little higher.” He pulled back gently on the wheel, risking a stall. The whole ship shuddered . . .

They Came From New Jersey – Part 2

Daily Intelligence Update
—
(38) The sheriff’s department of Cassville, New Jersey reported the theft of 30 albino rabbits from the Morgan Breeding Farm. These rabbits are used in experiments at the Recalcitrant Laboratories. No other equipment or experimental animals were reported missing. Authorities at Recalcitrant Laboratories are unavailable for comment but sources feel that the disappearances will not affect the laboratories ability to meet current contractual obligations.

Colonel Fitzhugh returned to work. The events of the previous day did not proceed as he hoped. His sergeant was sent for training at Warrant Officer School in Arizona. His replacement, a WAC Major named Candace Dare, was temporarily assigned to him, until the return of Sergeant Hutton.

Fitzhugh needed to get some sort of organization before the major showed up and “helped.” He made his way across the parking lot in the pre-dawn darkness. His limp was more pronounced; he slept little and returned early to work. Something was up with Dr. von Zorm’s experiments.

He opened the outer door to his office.

Major Candace Dare quickly leapt to attention. “Colonel Fitzhugh, I didn’t expect you for another hour at least.”

“Good morning, Major,” He replied. “I see you are trying to organize things.”

“Yes, sir. Trying is a good word. It seems the good sergeant hadn’t a clue.”

Colonel Fitzhugh chuckled as he removed his overcoat. “Wait until you see my office, Major.”

Fitzhugh opened the door and froze.

“I’m sorry, Colonel. I though I would tackle that first.”

“Holy Seven Stars Major, how am I going to find anything?”

“A lot easier than your ‘sedimentary’ filing system, I assure you.”

Fitzhugh seethed. “I do not understand why they needed to stick me with a whacko WAC. What mortal sin did I commit to fall in this hell?”

“Perhaps it had something to do with threatening to kill your sergeant, Colonel. As far as babysitting you, I’m not exactly thrilled, either. This will do no good for my career path, you know.”

“A WAC major with a career path? You mean, other than tricking a general into marrying you?”

Fitzhugh watched the rage cross Candace Dare’s face. He watched as she recovered quickly and smiled. “Perhaps you should have a seat, Colonel. I would like to tell you about reality.”

The Terror from the Other Dimension! — Part Twelve

The sudden appearance of the invading fleets of flying saucers made the threat to our planet — and, not incidentally, to the crew of the airship — suddenly and horribly manifest, typed the reporter, his hands flying across the keyboard quickly now, the ding-zip-bang of each typewritten line coming faster than the one before. Time was growing short. Which of the two bold plans would be thwarted, and which would succeed? The outcome was by no means certain. There was one difference, however. The crew of the Peregrine were prepared to do whatever it took — even at the cost of their own lives — to protect Mother Earth. Would their luck hold out?

* * *

In the engine compartment amidships, Sparks and Miss Abbot were preparing to descend into the cavernous radome beneath the airship’s gondola. Miss Abbot’s bulky safety harness was several sizes too big for her petite frame, and Sparks was becoming flustered — and embarrassed — as he tried to cinch it tighter. With every jolt of the belt, Claudine’s smile grew.

“You’re tickling me.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry!”

“I didn’t say stop, did I?”

At that moment, Captain Darrow and Professor Abbot, Claudine’s mother, stepped into the compartment. “About ready, Sparks?”

“Just about there, Captain,” Sparks replied, giving Miss Abbot’s harness one last tug, nearly lifting her off her feet. “We wouldn’t want our guest to go flying away, would we?”

“Why do they need safety harnesses?” asked Professor Darrow.

“So that they don’t fall through the bottom of the radome. The sides and top are pretty solid, but to save weight the bottom is made of fabric. You can have two people in there, but they can’t be any closer than an arm’s length to each other or the fabric will tear and . . . ” Darrow pointed down ” . . . out they go.”

Professor Abbot’s face blanched. “Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Oh, mother,” Miss Abbot interjected. “We’re talking about the weight of two fully-grown men. I’m hardly going to put a dent in it.”

“Exactly, Professor,” Sparks chimed in. “It’ll feel just like walking on a trampoline.”

Professor Abbot sighed, then put her arm on her daughter’s shoulder. “Just make sure you don’t start jumping up and down.”

“And no spike heels,” Captain Darrow added with a wink.

Spike patted the tool belt around his waist and picked up his trusty duffel bag of gear. “All set, then?”

After the briefest of hesitations, Miss Abbot nodded bravely.