Icosahedral Shells

Her lissome fingers smoothed over miniscule creases in the origami, deftly rigging the polyhedron together with ease after spending so long making the sixty pieces of it. The imbricating pieces overlapped with a halcyon straightforwardness. She wondered briefly what her life would be like if everything was as simple as shapes. Shapes had set diameters, solid volume, surface area, density. Humans, however, they transformed and ebbed with the wind, losing mass, gaining it, and changing their skins as often as she switched paper-projects. People did not seem to care for anything much past the ephemeral joy of seeing something first hand, something tangible in its geometry. Jemmie thought differently, and always had, not thinking of the resolute hierarchy but of the joy she experienced with… whomever.

A simple song chimed through her head and she sang along, checking her erstwhile piece of beauty for flaws. It took many days of toiling in order to prosper at the sight of the truncated rhombi icosadodecahedron, but it was finally here. Fleetingly, she considered calculating its exact surface area, but the sun had long since set and dinner had been consumed many hours ago. With a gaping yawn, she decided that getting some sleep before dawn was more important than math. Smirking, she realized that was the most self-control she had exhibited in a while. Since becoming an adult, little had she slept, in wonder that there wasn’t more out there. Shouldn’t there have been more in her life than a solid job and an apartment?

Having gone through the necessary years of college education and strenuous training to achieve her degree, she faced job interviews and competition. She was never all that good with people, but she managed to get a coveted position. Finding herself with enough leisure time to pick up her high school habit of making origami polyhedral shells again, she began to question if there was anything more. That’s where her dilemma came into the picture, ripping it and frothing all over it. There was absolutely no adventure in her world; the picture frame was entirely empty.

With slumber came more worry, worry that tomorrow was just going to be another day.

∞

On the thin line between waking and sleeping she poised herself to jump into wakefulness, as her alarm was about to rudely notify her of a pressing meeting. Letting go of the small moment during which chaos was irrelevant and the world was at ease, Jemmie set to work on getting ready for the big day. She had to get the pharmaceutical aspects of a newly made prescription approved by the board before starting human trials. Though she was a far cry socially since high school, speaking in front of people that could make or break her career was still more nerve-wracking than she could speak of. Not that she was allowed to, of course.

Suddenly she was rushing down the street in realization of the fact that her motorcycle was in the shop. No one had ever told her to purchase a more practical mode of transportation, but when the bike went on one of her annual temper tantrums, the inevitable ‘I told you so’ and the ‘You should have listened to me’ were heavy on her mind. Despite the lovely autumnal walking weather, she cursed the irreconcilable chlorophyll-depraved leaves that crunched beneath her feet. Why on earth heels became standard work attire for females, she did not know, but she certainly wished for some of those comfortable-looking male shoes right about now.

The sound her heels made on the pavement soon began to imperceptibly annoy her, but Jemmie had no more time for that as her harsh mirrored office building came into view and she had to hasten her pace by a considerable amount. There were stern-faced men and women waiting in a board room with coffees in hand and their Rolex watches set for her doom. She couldn’t keep them waiting, now could she?

Rushing into her office to grab her presentation, Jemmie found herself shaking even more than she had been for her dissertation. Maybe it was just that this could help a lot of people. That’s why she was so nervous for it. It could never be her old nerves acting up again, this wasn’t her anymore. It had been a long time since she needed help in that way, and she was over the acute fear of others now. Supposedly…

“Let’s get this under way, I am so sorry to have inconvenienced you by being late, but, well, you know assistants.” There she was again, the new Jemmie, the one that knew how to talk to people and put them at ease. All hopes that she remained for the rest of the meeting.

After some cries of thanks from the affluent colleagues she now presented to, she began the presentation. Slipping in small intellectual jests here and there to force them to enjoy her presence, Jemmie finally got to the meat and potatoes of the drug trial. They seemed impressed by her thorough explanation and the few that had been taking notes ceased, enthralled by her speech. When she knew they were beginning to weary, she declined into the final conclusion of how successful the trial could be.

“If the trials started next month, within a year this could be on the market and…” The fire alarm interrupted her mid-sentence, and a groan escaped her throat, audible to the rest of the room.

“I’m sure it’s just a drill. Follow me down the stairs to the main lobby, there’s no reason to panic.” With a torrent of sighs and the shuffle of papers, they begrudgingly followed me downstairs. At the third floor landing I caught sight of someone, not moving at all to escape, chattering about on the phone as if there was no danger.

“Just keep going down, I’ll meet you there. Stick close to the secretaries; they’ll make sure you’re in the right spot.” After assuring them that it was a drill again, Jemmie ran towards the person on the phone, ready to drag them with her if she had to. That was general conduct for a fire drill: get everyone out so that there aren’t any funny human ashes to deal with later.

“No, you listen here! I want you to get back here and clear up the mess you’ve…” He turned around, briefly ceasing his bitter dialogue in order to stare at her with an annoyed flavor in his eyes.

“Excuse me, sir, there is a fire alarm going off, meaning that there is a fire in the building and that you are not safe here. Come with me please.” She tapped the man on the shoulder, briefly interrupting his cadences to voice her imbroglio. He finished his conversation forthwith.

“You have ten minutes.” He switched off his Bluetooth device and grinned at her. She suddenly felt quite demure in his company, as if he were looking her up and down like a famished shark would its prey.

“There’s no reason to worry,” She began to notice his accent through his soft language, but ignored it and focused on his words, “I tripped the fire alarm to get everyone out of here. Do you have an office?” The man began rushing down the hallway at full tilt, and in order to keep tabs on him, Jemmie told him the location of her office in a belligerent tone of voice.

“Three lefts and a right.” He grinned sideways at her without a change in pace and followed her directions, leading him straight to her small office. The man lunged at her stapler once he arrived, taking it apart with stumbling hands. Oh well, she never used it anyways.

“So who are you and why are you illegally setting off fire alarms in my office?” As he wove his way through the small space, he grabbed random trinkets and attempted pushing them into the stapler.

“I’m the Doctor and I didn’t illegally set off a fire alarm because that wouldn’t be cool. I merely fell on it and by happenstance I broke the glass and my bowtie got caught on it, meaning I couldn’t help but set it off. Won’t do it again, promise.” He spoke, while deconstructing his cellular device and placing the circuit board in the stapler. Whatever he was doing, it was way off kilter.

“The Doctor isn’t a name it’s a title.” Her retorts had severely declined in cleverness, but currently she was more concerned about having a madman tearing through her office than keeping him occupied with intellectual quips.

“All names are titles, mine’s just cooler. I bet you don’t have as cool a name.” The Doctor began whistling as he waited avidly for her response, but all she could do was scoff.

“I’m Jemmie, and I think my name is at least a name. What are you, five? No one says ‘cool’ anymore.” She tried to back up slightly, maybe run away, but he replied so quickly she didn’t have a chance.

“I do. Saying cool is cool; therefore it is gelid, but gelatinously gelid, like Jell-O. Do you have any Jell-O on you?” She threw up her hands and went for the phone, already sick of this guy’s crap.

“I’m calling security and getting everyone back in here. I have a very important meeting,” Grabbing the desk phone, she began dialing the security offices for this building, knowing they could contact security directly, and “I hope you like county lock-up, Doctor.” Was her last comment before a hand closed over hers; her eyes met the Doctor’s.

“Were you always this jaded?”

Looking down, with shyness returning to her demeanor, she tried to recall a time when she would not have called security. This made her realize just how much she had inured since growing up. Jemmie wasn’t even the same person anymore. She looked back at the Doctor, her hand still on the phone, somehow wheedling him for reassurance with her eyes. He picked up one of the stellated icosahedrons on her desk, turning over its green and brown paper within his hands.

“Teach me,” He said, physically moving her hand and placing the object in her palm. It had been no more than a paper weight for years, but now it seemed like so much more. The silence between them deepened as did the meaning within their lengthy eye contact.

“Right now?” she asked, thinking it rather impractical timing, no matter however ready she was to teach him at the current moment.

“No. Right now, we’re going to save your pharmaceutical labs from being looted by Iibac gremlins.” The odd emphasis he put on… whatever that word was made it sound very foreign. Was it bad that she hoped it was a gang?

“Gremlins like: don’t feed them after midnight, don’t give them water, and don’t put them in the sun gremlins?” Jemmie asked sonorously as they sped towards the lab on the second floor.

“No, just keep these ones out of the sunlight. If they get any sun… well, it gets very bad. They get bigger and hungrier. Come on!” Taking the stairs two at a time, they practically flew at the lab. Her curiosity about the stapler-thing heightened as she realized the Doctor was now shaking it about like it was imbued with magical properties.

“How are you going to keep these ‘gremlins’ from attacking?” A stapler and a circuit board couldn’t do much, was he expecting miracles?

“Hopefully this thing will keep them at bay. Other than that, I don’t know.” Now they were at the entrance to the laboratory and he was apparently making last minute changes to the design of his bulky stapler-thing. After pointing at it with a green pointed laser whatchamacallit, the Doctor smiled in satisfaction.

“You don’t know?” she asked incredulously, worry percolating into her thoughts almost as quickly as they had run to the lab.

“Isn’t it great?” She smiled slightly, attempting to reassure herself that running away wouldn’t be the best option, as he just grinned on like a dribbling idiot. Her smile turned to a frown as soon as he turned away. Taking a deep breath, the Doctor advanced towards the double doors, stapler brandished like a weapon.

“Come out, come out!” The once pristine white lab was covered in pill bottles and strewn micropipettes, with a façade of miniature blue gremlins trotting about and causing the awful mess. She would have hell to pay for this when her bosses got back in the building.

“Seriously, come out, this screams of you, Jack.” At a few electronic beeps from the corner of the room, the gremlins fell silent and began to twitch, eventually losing all motion in their muscles, in effect, paralyzed.

“I didn’t think your new upgrade would recognize my signal, Doctor.” A militarily broad-shouldered man stepped out from the corner, grinning with a comely face that knew too much. This must be Jack.

“You just couldn’t stay out of trouble, could you?” The Doctor began to scoop up the listless little creatures and place them in the box by Jack’s feet. He picked up one and began to examine it using his green thing, as if he were scanning it.

“It was just this one shipment and we landed in the area and I needed a place to crash that had the necessary drugs to keep the gremlins calm. It was going to be in and out, until they got a little rambunctious. I was just letting them out to play!” With a sigh, she picked up one of the gremlins that had been left behind. She dropped it in the bin and Jack surveyed her much the same as… well, men did that sometimes.

“Who’s your lovely friend?” Jack asked with his eyes still trained on her fairer portions.

“She’s Jemmie. She makes origami. Origami is cool. I don’t actually know if she’s my friend yet, though. Down boy.” The Doctor helped Jack seal the box of gremlins, and Jack lifted it unceremoniously, still smirking at her with a twinkle in his eye. She felt utterly useless, but decided to let them finish up instead of intruding.

“Nice to see you again, Doctor.” Jack started to leave, looking as if he wanted to salute the Doctor, but thought better of it.

“I’m sorry to say I can’t say the same, Jack. And, no, I’m not going to disable it again, go on as you like, but return the gremlins to their own planet. You promise?”

“Don’t I always?” Jack grinned, pressing a few fingers to his wrist and disappearing in a convalescence of blue light, along with the gremlins. Suddenly it struck her just how weird this was.

“That was easier than I thought it was going to be.” Jemmie said to the Doctor, though she was really eager to know more of… everything! How could that man disappear like that? Just who was the Doctor? Did he really say to return them to their own planet? Are gremlins aliens?

“It was. I have a feeling that I’ll see him again, though. He never does go away, that one. Anyways… ready to teach me?” Taken aback, it took her a few startled moments to recollect just what he was talking about, and then it hit her. She was enlisted into teaching him how to make an origami polyhedron.

“Sure, but I am at work, you know.” She really did need to do work and present to the board and do all of those various things, sadly.

“I can fix that.” He grabbed her hand and led her towards the elevator, pressing the switch for basement. She hadn’t even noticed that button in her three years of working there. Various thoughts of him kidnapping her ran through her mind, but she believed she could trust him to a point. The lift dinged for their destination and they stepped out. He hustled her past the diaphanous walls and to the corner. Just past the roundabout there was a… big, blue paneled box.

It was almost immaculately clean and light shone from behind the bright white words at the top of it: ‘Police Public Call Box.’ She recalled seeing one of these at a museum, they had been used everywhere in the fifties. He leaned on it, explicating what it was as if it was some sort of denouement to her.

“She’s called the TARDIS: Time and relative dimension in space.” Jemmie scoffed, thinking his little code clever, but useless, as it was an every-day antique.

“It’s a wooden police box, it has no light, and I can’t teach you how to make icosahedral shells in there, much less fit the both of us inside.”

“Really?” The Doctor pushed the door inwards, despite the adamant ‘PULL TO OPEN,’ on the left pane below the windows. Venturing inwards, she found everything she had stopped believing in when she was young. Light danced from underneath and above glass floors, creating a magical vibrato in the air. Her ears hummed with the susurrus machinery; she thought it was her eyes, but there was truly a blown glass piece of art, acting like a piston within a central clear cylinder.

“What do you think?” the Doctor asked, unable to read her features.

“I can definitely teach you in here.”