Anticlockwise

by T W M Ashford

  Sari, the thin, giraffe-necked, bulb-headed alien, crossed her arms and glared. ‘Many of our holy sites are ruined,’ she snapped. ‘Some will never be restored.’

  ‘And it was my species that invented the kebab, goddammit,’ sneered the leathery, two-headed beast. ‘Us and the Hst-Tuu clan, may their souls rest peacefully. Your kind can’t just go back and claim they did it first. That’s our culture we’re talking about.’

  ‘Sod your culture,’ hissed the snake with mechanical arms. ‘We’ve always had a system of trade between our universes. When one of my brethren finds a fortune in the desert, they share it with a version of themselves who found nothing but salt and sand. But what happens when one of the Torri-Tau pays us a visit, eh? I’ll tell you what: the other versions of us cease to exist! That’s not just bad business. That’s murder!’

  The goat raised a hoof before the assembly could descend into chaos. ‘You’ll be hard pressed to find anyone in this hall who doesn’t have their own tale of woe. Something drastic must be done before any more harm befalls us.’

  I ducked back behind cover to check on Pierre. He was being uncharacteristically quiet.

  ‘This isn’t how I thought things were going to go,’ he whispered, staring at an empty spot on the floor about three feet away. ‘After everything the Council told us, the stories that were passed down from generation to generation and species to species, and after all we’ve seen the Torri-Tau do since they escaped prison… this all seems a little… unfair. No wonder they went so mental when they got out. All they ever wanted was the same freedom as everyone else.’

  ‘Something drastic?’ yelled Makka-Soj, standing up from his chair. ‘What in the multiverse are you talking about?’

  ‘We’re talking about solving a problem, Soj,’ replied the blob. ‘We’re correcting a mistake. Putting things right.’

  ‘You’re not suggesting what I think you are.’ Makka-Soj took a step backwards and collapsed into his chair. His eyes were wide, his forehead sweating. ‘No, you can’t be. You introduced us to the multiverse. This isn’t our fault. You can’t wipe us out like… like… like you’re going to wipe out the octowürms. We’re people, for crying out loud. We have rights!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Makka-Soj,’ bleated the goat. ‘But it’s for the greater good. Deep down, I’m sure you appreciate our position.’

  ‘No, no. No. There has to be another way. My people will understand if we have to change. I’ll make sure they understand, I swear.’

  ‘The committee will vote on the exact nature of the solution after a brief recess,’ sighed the goat. ‘I’m sorry, Makka-Soj. I truly am. Guards, please make sure the Torri-Tau delegate does not leave this room.’

  Two black-clad guards with featureless masks over their faces marched forward. They crossed their electrically-charged pikes in front of Makka-Soj’s chair. He stared at them in blank shock.

  ‘You can’t do this!’ he screamed as the members of the Council rose from their seats and the rest of the crowd turned to talk to one another. ‘You bastards! You hypocrites! Inter-universal travel is a gift to be given to all, not kept hidden for use only by those few you deem worthy. You cannot punish me for being what I am!’

  ‘I don’t know about you, George, but I am seriously starting to question where we go from here.’

  Pierre was pacing back and forth in our little secluded area of the chamber. All the aliens were chatting amongst themselves so the risk of us being noticed was pretty slim, but his pacing was making me anxious all the same.

  ‘I mean, it was all so much simpler when the Torri-Tau were just the Gatecrashers, the cosmic boogeyman spreading from planet to planet and consuming everything,’ he continued, running a hand through his hair. ‘They were a virus before, now they’re an empire, we’ve got to get rid of them - that was what I was going to say before. I was going to argue that the Council should show them less compassion. But now… it seems as if everything the Council ever told us…’

  ‘Was a load of bollocks?’ I said, wishing Pierre would at least have his crisis in the cover of our pillar. ‘Yeah, sure seems that way. Not the nicest crowd, if I’m honest.’

  ‘It’s not even like they were doing anything out of malice.’ Much to my relief, Pierre came and leant against the shadowed marble. ‘Hell, they weren’t doing anything wrong, not really! They made a few mistakes because they were brought into the Council too early and they had an unfortunate… condition, that’s all. Oh, God. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. They don’t deserve to be imprisoned, but…’

  ‘But if we do nothing, the multiverse is forever shaped in their image. Everything we cared about will be lost.’

  ‘So we’ve got to do something. And something tells me it would have been easier to convince the Council to wipe the Torri-Tau out than it will be to set them free.’

  I felt a dawning heaviness wash over me. ‘Nothing’s going to go back to how it was, will it?’

  Pierre stopped biting his nails and glanced up at me. He looked sad. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. I guess going back to how things were was never all that likely an outcome. But we can still try to do the right thing. Right?’

  ‘I suppose we might as well,’ I said, shrugging. ‘Doing nothing will only keep the multiverse on its current, Torri-centric path. Never mind. It’s not like I had much to go back to anyway.’

  Pierre shot me a sorry look and went to say something, but didn’t. Not for another few seconds at least, and when he did he was back to biting his nails.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’

  I couldn’t answer that question, so instead I looked out at the assembly crowd. Few of the groups looked as if they had any debate left in them, had they any to start with. Nobody was arguing; nobody spat vitriol. They were like friends waiting for the doors to their cinema screen to open. Catching up. Filling time.

  All whilst Makka-Soj simply sat there in his golden chair, eyes swimming and disbelieving, waiting for his sentence, and the sentence of each and every one of his people, to be delivered. The two guards had not moved in all that time, their lances buzzing and sparking only inches from his robed chest.

  The members of the Council had not yet reconvened.

  ‘We’ll have to try and explain the situation to them, I guess,’ I replied.

  ‘Explain it to them? Yeah, like that’ll work. No, we need to find a way to change their decision without them even realising it. Somehow, we need to make them think it’s their idea…’

  As Pierre rambled on, I caught a glimpse of the council members re-entering the chamber. Everybody returned to their seats and a hushed quiet returned to the hall. I pulled Pierre back into our hiding spot.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ he said, his mouth hanging open.

  ‘Got what?’

  ‘A plan! And it’s a good one. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. It’s been staring me in the face this whole time!’

  The members of the Council sat, slithered, crept and dolloped themselves into their seats. Makka-Soj was pleading with them again. Nobody was answering.

  ‘Those monks back in the hotel,’ continued Pierre. ‘They told me I’d need a goat. They said I needed to give them one in order for them to give it back to me, when I’d need it. It all makes sense now. Maybe it wasn’t a scam after all! If I can find them - if they still exist, of course - I might be able to get hold of that goat. If a different version of me ever gave them one, that is. But still. I can find a goat and bring it here, and we’ll swap out the head of the Council for that goat, and then when they vote, they won’t be able to. Because the head of the Council will be an actual goat. See?’

  I looked at him in silence.

  ‘Pierre,’ I replied, spacing each new word so far apart from the last that there could be no confusion as to what I was saying, ‘that is the worst plan I have ever heard in my life. Literally the worst. We don’t need a goat, or any more damn plans involving trans-dimensional doors or alternate realities. We nee
d a bloody argument.’

  Pierre shook his head and started rubbing his chin. ‘No, you’re wrong. I could get back to the door out there in only a few…’

  I stopped listening to him. The Council of Keys were delivering their sentence.

  ‘Makka-Soj, delegate for the Torri-Tau people, we have deliberated and we have reached a decision,’ said the alien who really did look like a goat. ‘For your species’ numerous crimes against the intergalactic community of the multiverse…’

  ‘Crimes?’ yelled Makka-Soj, nearly electrocuting himself against the lances locked in front of him. ‘Crimes? What are you talking about? We’ve made a few mistakes, that’s all!’

  ‘…we sentence you to eternity in the Space Between Worlds. You should use that time to think about what you’ve done.’

  ‘Pierre.’ I shook his shoulder. ‘We need to do something, and we need to do it now.’

  ‘What?’ screamed Makka-Soj. Again he went to stand up; this time the electric lance scorched the front of his robe, jolting him back into his seat. ‘No, you can’t do this! This is monstrous! This is absurd! There’s nothing but infinite nothingness out here. That’s worse than death! You might as well wipe us out, goddammit!’

  The crystallised ogre grunted and scratched his ear. ‘Perhaps we should reconsider the severity of…’

  ‘We’ve done all the reconsidering we need,’ the fat blob snapped. ‘The sentence is the sentence, end of discussion.’

  ‘Come on, Pierre!’ I hissed. ‘Ah, to hell with it.’

  With my hands raised high, I stepped out from behind the pillar and walked towards the circle.

  ‘Guys,’ I said, edging my way between the seats belonging to the thin alien and the fluffy, floating orb, ‘you’re making a really big mistake.’

  ‘Oh and you’d know, would you?’ grumbled the leathery, two-headed rhino-thing. ‘How dare you approach us. I don’t even recognise your species.’

  ‘That’s because we don’t exist yet, and yes, I do know, actually. I know much better than I’d like, thank you very much.’

  ‘And what is it that you know, exactly?’ asked the fish, its bubbly voice coming out of a speaker on the front of its spherical helmet. ‘What do you think will happen if we sentence this bothersome man’s species to eternal exile? A decline in knock-off kebabs, perhaps?’

  A few of the council members chuckled… but I was encouraged to see that more than a few looked concerned.

  ‘Oh, at first it seems like a great idea. Certainly if that’s what you’re already used to, I’ll give you that. I never even saw a Torri-Tau until today, you see, so I wasn’t all that concerned by them not existing anymore. Probably could have gone on like that for, oh I don’t know… forever? There are loads of things I don’t know about and I don’t lose any sleep over them. But then, a long, long time from now, the Torri-Tau will escape. They’ll get out. And as you can imagine, they will be royally, royally pissed.’

  The human-looking man with a beetle scurrying out of his ear-hole leant forward. ‘Yes? And what happens after that?’

  ‘Stop humouring this madman,’ snapped the fish. ‘He’s not even doing a very good job of defending Makka-Soj here anyway.’

  ‘No, let him speak,’ said the Na’riim. ‘I want to hear what the hairless ape has to say.’

  ‘Thank you… I think,’ I said. ‘Well, livid that they’ve been trapped in a timeless vacuum for longer than any living being ought to exist, they systematically rewrite the entire multiverse to reflect their own image. Because of their, you know… special condition. Thanks to you, thanks to the decision that you just made, everything that everyone in this chamber holds dear is now gone. So well done, guys.’

  The goat bleated. ‘So if what you’re saying is true, locking them up not only doesn’t work, it actually makes the situation worse. Seems like all you’re doing is presenting us with a pretty compelling argument as to why we should wipe them all out right here and now.’

  ‘Who cares? It’s irrelevant,’ warbled the gelatinous goo. ‘We already sent somebody forward to see what the future holds. It’s a lot better without these clumsy cretins mucking up the fabric of spacetime.’

  ‘Oh, I dare say things have changed a bit since then,’ I laughed. ‘Go on. Send somebody now that the Torri-Tau have broken free. I dare you.’

  Nobody in the circle moved… and then the ogre unclipped the key from off the chain around its neck and lobbed it to a vaguely amphibious creature sitting in the front row of benches.

  ‘Go take a look,’ he grumbled. ‘Be quick. In and out, no dawdling.’

  The toad nodded and sprinted down the dark corridor towards the exit. As he did, Pierre came out from behind the pillar to join me.

  ‘It’s all true, you know,’ he said, his arms raised just as mine had been. ‘Every word of it. It’s a right disaster out there.’

  ‘Oh God, there’s another one,’ groaned the snake. ‘And who might you be?’

  ‘I’m Pierre, Your Greatness,’ he said, bowing. With his arms still raised it looked a bit more like a curtsy. ‘I’m the, erm, concierge. At Le Petit Monde, one of the Council’s hotels. You go on to build them on hotspots where universes more closely overlap. We get people from all over the multiverse passing through. It’s one of Earth’s most popular cross-road points, actually.’

  ‘Is it? I’ll have to take your word on that.’

  The goat peered at the two of us with his weird eyes. ‘How do the Torri-Tau escape, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘Erm, I’m not sure the particulars are all that important, really…’ said Pierre, adjusting his collar.

  A flappy, splatting sound grew louder as the toad-alien came running back into the chamber. ‘They’re telling the truth,’ he gasped. ‘Hell, it’s madness out there. It’s all gone, even the Council headquarters. They’ve put a big blue block in its place. It’s horrible!’

  ‘Is this true?’ asked the thin, bulb-headed alien, turning to face Makka-Soj.

  Makka-Soj barked a desperate laugh. ‘How should I know? If it is, I haven’t done it yet.’

  All the aliens on the benches started to gossip amongst themselves. The noise quickly rose to a deafening, panicking din.

  ‘Okay, everybody settle down,’ shouted the goat. ‘I said settle down!’

  A murmuring, not-quite-silence descended over the hall. Those who had angrily risen to their feet returned to their seats.

  ‘I think we’re all in agreement that something needs to be done about this,’ he continued. ‘Something which will stop the Torri-Tau from coming back to wipe our cultures off the star-map. Clearly sending them into exile wasn’t enough.’ He sighed. ‘A full eradication is the only way to be sure.’

  ‘Woah!’ I cried, waving my hands about. ‘That is not the answer I was looking for!’

  ‘Why not?’ spluttered the blob. ‘It would work, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not about whether it works or not! It’s about doing what’s right, for crying out loud! Jesus Christ, sometimes I feel like I’m the only sane person in this whole bloody universe!’

  Now the hall was silent. Everyone kept on staring at me, their eyes boring through me, even Pierre.

  I cleared my throat. ‘Look. The only two people who’ve witnessed both the world you created by exiling the Torri-Tau and the world created by their escape from this white hellhole, are standing right in front of you. Maybe you ought to listen to what we think, eh? Maybe we have a somewhat unique and valuable perspective on this whole damn mess.’

  ‘Go on,’ grumbled the ogre, refastening the key to the chain around its neck.

  ‘Thank you! So can we start by agreeing that the Torri-Tau haven’t actually done anything wrong? Not really. They’re just disrupting what you consider the norm. And sure, it’s annoying - but is slaughtering them for escaping a prison you shouldn’t have ever put them in to begin with really the best plan you can come up with, do you think? Because let’s be honest - that’s n
ot the full reason why you’re doing it, is it?’

  All the council members suddenly looked very uncomfortable… even the sunflower.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Pierre, looking like a man who’s only just noticed he’s been slapped across the face. ‘The Torri-Tau believe that inter-universal travel should be available to everyone, not restricted only to those you deem worthy to hold a key or who happen to stumble across an overlapping point in spacetime by accident. You just want to keep all those privileges to yourselves, don’t you? You’re not punishing a crime… you’re removing a dissenting voice!’

  There was a lot of shocked grumbling from the benches all around the Council. Even the guards holding the lances in front of Makka-Soj’s chest looked unsure of themselves.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said the goat. ‘Unlike us, you actually do have the benefit of hindsight. What do you suggest we do?’

  ‘Let the Torri-Tau return to their home universe,’ I said, exasperated. ‘Establish a trade agreement or something. Work together. Keep an open dialogue and always be prepared to discuss the possibility of them coming back to the wider intergalactic community.’

  ‘And that’ll work, will it? That’s how we all win?’

  Pierre and I glanced at each other. We shrugged.

  ‘Nobody ever wins,’ replied Pierre. ‘But believe me. It’s the only way which works.’

  The blob shot the goat an exasperated look, which quickly turned into one of disbelief. It rolled its bulbous eyes and groaned.

  The goat nodded to the guards. ‘Let him go,’ he ordered. The guards switched their lances off and took a sharp step backwards. There were gasps from all around the hall.