by Paul Vayro
Chapter Forty Four
……and you have no idea what happened?” Ted continued to question Zarg across the dining room table.
“How many times? No. I came back to the ship and found it deserted. So I went to the fun room for a bit of a play. Next thing I know I’m being accused of treason.” Zarg folded his arms and turned away.
“Treason is a little far.”
“You believe me, don’t you mum?” Zarg turned to Doreen for support.
“Of course I do son. I don’t know why your father doesn’t just check the computer’s memory files. It’s bound to know what happened.” Doreen continued to make tea for Edwin while folding the washing.
“Because Doreen, my sweetest angel, for the fourth time; the anchor snapping has wiped the computer’s memory of the entire trip.”
“That’s terrible. How will we know what happened?” She folded a particularly large towel with the dexterity only a mother possesses.
Ted pulled on an antenna in frustration. “We won’t dearest which is why I’m asking Zarg what he knows.”
“Well Zarg’s told you what he knows.”
“Has he?” Ted suspected his son must know something. Zarg tried to deflect attention away from him.
“Weren’t there men in the anchor room you could ask?”
“Yes, but all we can get from them are incoherent mumblings about time and the name Gus.”
“Have you spoken to Gus?” Zarg liked the path that didn’t involve him.
“We can’t get an answer out of him. He stuck his hand in his mouth the moment he woke up and we haven’t been able to get it out.”
“Have you tried pulling on it?” Doreen interrupted her humming to offer advice.
“Yes love.”
“Sounds like it’s stuck then.” She stirred a pot of something light brown and gooey.
“I’ll ring the boss right away with your findings.” Ted only had sarcasm to offer his wife’s theory.
“If you’re going to be sarcastic I won’t speak.” Doreen hummed louder to compensate.
“Did you not see the cacklejack? It was right outside the ship pretending to be you?” Ted tried a new line of attack.
“No. Although I suppose….I mean….I do have a slight confession father.” Zarg realised it was impossible to have stayed in the basin and not known what was going on. “I may have strayed beyond the boundaries we were set. The cacklejack could have seen me without me seeing it. I feel violated that it used my identity. I’m sorry though. I didn’t touch anything and I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not fair that I’m getting the blame for the whole stupid plan failing.” Zarg played the tantrum card.
“I’m not blaming you, son. I just need to know what happened. I thought you may be able to help us figure it out.” Ted tried to back away.
“How? By making it my fault? Why won’t you believe me?”
“I believe you, Zarg.” Doreen found a gap in her tasks to kiss Zarg on the head.
“Thanks mum.” Zarg did his utmost to look upset. Ted sensed the tide had swung against him.
“We can talk about this later.” Ted gave up.
“I’ve made your favourite for tea Zarg, Dovwar pie. We were ever so worried when we couldn’t find you, weren’t we Ted? Ted!”
“Hm, what? Worried? Yes dear. Terribly.” Ted couldn’t work out what had happened.
“I said to your father, I said Ted. When we find that son of ours I’m going to give him the biggest slice of Dovwar pie I can bake. And where my sons are concerned nothing’s too much trouble.” She wiggled Zarg’s cheek before ruffling Edwin’s antennae. Edwin giggled and blew a saliva bubble bigger than his own face. Doreen returned to her worktop as Zarg turned the questioning on his father.
“It seemed nice, the Earth.” Zarg swung his legs under the table.
“Yes.” Ted was surprised to see Zarg still sat down. He’d expected him to storm off to his bedroom for the night. “The bits I saw were very pleasant, except for all those humans.” Ted folded his paper down to allow conversation.
“Maybe they’d have been alright if they were moving around?” Zarg found himself defending humanity.
“I can’t see it, too tall for my liking. They would have all been shipped to Antarctica anyway, once we took control. Let them have all that emptiness while we get the good bits.” Ted almost laughed to himself. Zarg felt the first pangs of guilt, but not for his own peoples' failure to succeed. Maybe the worst of teenage hormones were over and his body could see the civil light at the end of the tunnel. He didn’t want the humans to be sent away. His decision to aid Brick and Spiritwind felt all the more justified.
“So, dad.” The tone roused Ted’s suspicions.
“Yes, son.” Ted continued peering over his newspaper.
“Does the fact we’re heading home mean I was right to say the plan was flawed?” Zarg transferred his smugness to his legs. They swung rapidly.
Ted put the paper down and sat upright. “Your concerns had a reasonable basis, but we still don’t know exactly where we went wrong.”
“But I was right?”
“Well…..right is such a difficult thing to define.” Ted verbally wobbled.
“I said something would happen and it did. Is that not the definition of right?”
“Your suspicions were proved more correct than false.”
“Which is another way of saying I was right. Right?” Zarg wanted to hear the words.
“In a sense.”
“The sense of yes, I was right?” Zarg almost set his legs on fire as they brushed past each other.
“Well….” The pain on Ted’s face was visceral.
“You can say it dad. It’s okay.”
“I suppose…..”
“Yes…”
“You were right.” Ted folded his paper back up and hid behind it.
“Did you hear that mum? I was right.” Zarg jumped down from his chair.
“Really dear. That’s super.” Doreen had been focusing on inflating the pastry.
“Did you hear that Edwin? I was right.” Zarg revelled in the smugness. The betrayal felt fully justified.
“Cartwheel.” Edwin’s new words were coming at a frantic pace. He pulled on an antenna as he spoke. It hurt. He realised he’d have to test it again later to make sure it wasn’t a coincidence. Meanwhile Zarg made up a little song on the spot about being right and danced happily away to his room. The newspaper shook as Ted wished for the morose, obstinate version of his son. He was a far easier beast to deal with.
“At least Zarg’s cheered up love. Not a completely wasted trip.”
“Always the optimist my sweetheart.” Ted’s smile wasn’t heartfelt.
“What do you think of our little trip Edwin?”
“Manicure.” Exactly.
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