In which the author is duly chastised for the shameless word padding of the last chapter, especially the lyrics to Y M C A, and promises to write a very serious story from now on. Except the whole bit about the black hole, which can’t be helped now. And the general silliness that is bound to creep in with a talking parrot – alien or otherwise – as a main character. But other than that, serious. Totally. Except for the bit about the raspberry tart. Sorry.
The night progressed uneventfully after that, other than the clown who threw the raspberry tart in Nenipven’s face, which didn’t go at all as he expected. Instead of being upset, Nenipven thanked him for the delicious treat as he licked his face clean with a tongue that was just a little on the too long side for the clown’s comfort. The clown stammered an apology, accepted the candy Nenipven offered him, and stumbled down the porch steps, trying to convince himself that what he’d just seen had to be some sort of parlor trick.
Realst stayed sullenly in the corner, afraid to being up any topic of conversation that would lead to another laundry list of costumes or – worse still – cause Nenipven to once again break out into song. He groomed his feathers and occasionally stole more pieces of candy while Nenipven wasn’t looking.
“Well, I think that went well, don’t you?” Nenipven asked when the candy had finally been exhausted and he was forced to turn off the porch light. “Our first Halloween. How exciting! I had fun. Did you have fun? That was so much fun! I want to do it again.”
“Yes, well.” Realst wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was… bored. This whole waiting and time thing just wasn’t for him. You shouldn’t have to wait for things. Things shouldn’t take time. Things should just happen and be. His head hurt from trying to reason it out. This living with time, instead of outside of it, was really inconvenient. How did these people do it?
“Now… now we wait for the police to show up tomorrow morning, I suppose,” Nenipven said. “Then it’s a day to the event, and we can be on our way. On the up side, it’s been a lot easier to collect information from people moving in their normal space-time.” He held up his data collector, which was glowing a deep pink.
“Almost full,” Realst said. Inwardly he groaned at the thought of more waiting, but he didn’t say anything, least it lead to a lecture on how it built character and would better help him understand the concept of time. “I’m impressed. That is a lot of data. The archivers will be pleased. The love all that minutia of culture.”
“And so few collectors are willing to go into that sort of detail, which just floors me. I mean, I think it’s fascinating. Don’t you think all of this is fascinating?” Nenipven stared at his glowing orb with affection. “All of this, and they want to just let it die. How sad is that? Very sad, that’s how. If I was in charge, I wouldn’t let this happen. How can they just let it happen? Isn’t it sad? Don’t you think it’s sad?”
“Very. Now what are we going to do when the police get here in the morning?” Realst asked. Nenipven was acting like he was the one who had been mainlining sugar all evening. Realst had never seen him so keyed up. “In case you don’t remember, there was no one at the house when the police showed up. We’re going to need to find another place to hide, and fast. I think. One evening isn’t that much time, is it? What’s your next brilliant idea?”
“No, it’s not much time. I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” Nenipven said testily.
“Think faster.”
“Don’t rush me. Rush a plan, you get a rotten plan, don’t you know?” Nenipven started pacing, his shape wavering and taking on the various forms he’d seen that evening. Pace to the west side of the room as a cowboy, turn, shimmer into a crocodile, pace back. Fade to a ballerina, which looked hilarious considering he didn’t bother to change his very hairy legs or chest, and pace to the other side of the room. On and on until Realst was positive he was going to wear a path through the carpet.
“Nenipven,” Realst finally said as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. “I don’t mean to nag, but you’re… out of time. Do you have a plan?”
Nenipven stopped mid-pace and halfway between a princess and a construction worker. The result would have been hilarious if Realst hadn’t been so stressed. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself get dragged into another one of Nenipven’s hare-brained schemes. Nothing but trouble. He’d be lucky if he wasn’t relegated to the vortex for this one. And as bad as this duty was, he did not want to get stuck there. Nothing was worse than working the vortex. Though, he thought, at least time wasn’t a factor there.
“I… don’t. I think we’re just going to have to fly by the seat of our pants on this one. The universe will know where to send us.” Nenipven didn’t look as confident as he was trying to sound.
“You’re suggesting just jumping blindly again? Need I remind you where that got us last time? Killing that poor man?” Realst fluffed his feathers in agitation. “I do not want to go through that again, or worse.”
“But it had to happen, and the universe knew that. Think about it. If we hadn’t landed where we did, then the person giving out candy would have been Pearson AND the bodies would still be in the morgue. None of what those officers remembered would have happened if we hadn’t made it happen. You see, it proves my point perfectly. It had to happen so it did. And the universe, in its infinite wisdom, knows what needs to happen now. Because it has, and will.” Nenipven turned back into an approximation of a nobleman from the 18th century. “Now, my dear chap, shall we see what happens to us now?”
“No.”
“Come, come, I need your help on this. The event is still too far off for me to be able to draw enough power myself.” Nenipven tugged on his cuffs.
“No.”
“Realst…” He drew the name out into a warning. “Don’t make me. I don’t want to, but I will, and you won’t like it. Better just to cooperate now. Unless… unless you have a better idea?”
“How about not getting us into this mess in the first place?” Realst asked bitterly. “Why do you always get me into these things?”
“Because your life would be boring otherwise!” Nenipven said cheerfully.
“Fine. But this is the last time. After this, I’m asking for a transfer.” Realst huffed stubbornly.
“You do that. Now, ready?”
“Ready.”
They stood and, to the outside observer, it looked like they were doing absolutely nothing. But in their mind’s eye they were reaching out to the future black hole, and pulling time energy to warp both space and possibly time to move them. It was a bit of a rocky way to travel, and while some people claimed to be able to control where they were going, most believed you only got to where you wanted to through luck. It wasn’t the same as traveling from black hole to black hole, which was easy and predictable. Traveling on past or future black hole energy was a bit like loading yourself into a pinball machine and hoping you hit the flippers in time. There were some reports of people disappearing entirely, though these could never be substantiated. Some theorists believe that if you were lost trying to travel this way the universe erased you and you were never born, which explained the lack of reports. Others claimed that was bologna and a convenient explanation for the lack of proof, nothing more.
“Okay, Realst, now!” Nenipven shouted, and then something did happen. There was a brilliant flash of light and the two of them were reduced to tiny specks of light energy.
“We’re still here, and this is bloody uncomfortable,” Realst said.
“It does chafe a bit,” Nenipven admitted. “Maybe we’re just supposed to stay here undetected?”
“Maybe, but then why do I feel itchy? I don’t think we’re done travelling.” Realst tried to shift position to get more comfortable, and his little ball of light wobbled slightly.
“Can you move?” Nenipven asked. “I can’t get the hang of it. But I feel like I want to go zipping all over the place. Uh-oh, I think you’re right. I feel that ticklish feeling…”
“Just… bounce,” Realst said. He demonstrated, and he started to bob around the room. Nenipven tried, and soon the two of them were bouncing around the room like a pair of kids on pogo sticks.
“Oooh, try rolling!” Nenipven did a summersault, and went sailing across the room and bounced off an armchair. “Ouch. Okay, this time with steering!”
He took off, zooming around the room in circles. Realst tried to follow, but was having a bit more trouble with his control. He pinged off a lamp, hit a table, and went careening off a bookcase.
“Ouch… crap… ow… ouch… Nenipven, this is not getting any easier!” he yelled.
“Just relax,” Nenipven said. “This is awesome! Wheeeeee!”
“Nenipven, I can’t…. ACHOOO!” Realst sneezed, shot across the room, and blipped out of existence. Nenipven raced after him, and in a second, he, too was gone.
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