Dear Diary,

We were faced with a number of crucial dilemmas as Fingers lay tied to a stake, at the mercy of savage beings and their twisted and corrupt laws. Chief amongst them (the dilemmas not the savage beings) was that we were currently down one engineer. A serious problem when you consider our engineering establishment shortage. He represented a ninety-plus percent drop in engineering capacity and we would be capable of little more than drifting aimlessly through space, aided by the man John’s occasionally inspired Mechano builds.

"I have a plan" I announced. "We will have a staff me…"

"Are you going to suggest another silly staff meeting which achieves nothing and which wastes valuable time?" cried Carol Richmond.

"Well, no, I was…" I began.

"Dammit, Butch, I’m a mineralogist not a humanitarian but even I can see that human life is a close second to valuable ores and its collection, polishing, cataloguing and, ultimately, selling must be higher on our agenda than sitting round, having staff meetings and letting ourselves by ruled by an agenda."

"Oh, Captain Maitland, John is a bit muddled but his basic thrust is sound – we cannot sit around and do nothing."

"I wasn’t about to suggest we do nothing or have a staff meeting – two entirely different things I would remind you and I suggest that the first thing the two of you do when we return to the Pioneer is read the archive of minutes. Then perhaps you’ll appreciate the value of both our scheduled and ad-hoc staff meetings. Now, I was about to suggest something far more suitable than a staff meeting."

"Sorry" said Carol Richmond with humility.

"Dammit, Butch, I’m sorry too" added the man John.

"Right, maybe we can get on with it then" I said, pleased to have kept control of the situation.

Notes From the Rescuing Fingers Focus Group (First Draft)

Fingers is our best engineer so his rescue is important

Rescuing any of our crew would be important

We are a team who rescues each other as an when required

Fingers is tied to a stake

We were tied to a stake before being rescued

Therefore Fingers needs to be rescued

Rescuing Fingers is a top priority

Why a rescue?

Morale

Engineering

Prevent under-staffing

He’s quite sweet

Prioritisation

Business requirements

How a rescue?

• Frontal assault

• Sneak in the back way

• Telemat

• Disguises

• Find more smelly foodstuffs

• Attempt to buy Fingers

• Drop from the ceiling using ropes and masks

How will we know we have succeeded?

• Fingers will be rescued

• Fingers will not be a prisoner

• We will have 100% staffing in Engineering department

• He will be here with us

• We will be able to touch him

How will we know if we have failed?

• Fingers won’t be rescued

• Fingers will be a prisoner

• We will have 0% staffing in Engineering department

• He won’t be here with us

• We won’t be able to touch him

Possible people who could rescue him

• Captain Maitland

• The man John

• Carol Richmond

• The mad men who rescued us

• A crack team of INNER storm patrol troupers

• A fractious underclass of repressed Sensorites

What will we need in order to rescue him?

• Another sheet of flipchart paper

• Guns

(at this point the focus group ran out of both time and space and were forced to adjourn)

"Dammit, Butch, we could’ve used that – our only sheet of paper – to draw a diagram on" noted the man John.

"What sort of diagram?" I asked.

"I don’t know – I’m a mineralogist not a cartographer. But it would’ve been something like a plan of the palace with the little fellow’s final resting place marked clearly."

"Excuse me" said a voice behind us.

"Yes?" I replied absentmindedly.

"Would it be possible for the man John to draw his diagram on the back of the sheet of paper?"

"Dammit, Butch, that is a good suggestion. Who said that? I want to shake that man by the hand."

A sea of bodies parted (well, Carol Richmond and I moved in opposite directions as we turned round) and there stood Fingers.

"Fingers!" squeaked Carol Richmond, who is, never let us forget, an emotional woman.

"Dammit, dwarf, how did you free yourself?"

"I did not – I was helped by these gentlemen."

He now took his cue to step to one side and behind him stood the three lunatics from the Pioneer’s stationary cupboard. The three mad men who had rescued us took a collective step forwards. Our lunatics did likewise. My crew and I scurried to a safe corner as these six ragged and heavily bearded men of impaired mental stability stood off like cowboys in a film made over eight hundred years before we left Earth in the twenty-eighth century.

Would they fight? Or would they find common ground in their mental illness and form lasting friendships? Would we get caught in any crossfire in either case?

"Fetch sticks, Number One" said each commander in unison. Now armed with primitive weapons, the trios walked slowly towards each other.