by Paul Vayro
Chapter Sixteen
“Did I eat chicken last night? My mouth tastes very chickeny.” Brick’s taste buds raised a question, as he and Spiritwind stumbled down the corridor towards the reception hall that had greeted their arrival the day before. Seeing a sign offering a lift they stepped on to a platform. It sank in a spiral manner.
“It’s entirely possible. Did you also dream Reason was a man sized penguin and needed our help?” Spiritwind added a further poser.
“Are you saying that wasn’t a dream?” Brick struggled to fasten his cardigan, so gave up and left it flapping loose.
“I’m just saying what I’m thinking.” Spiritwind peeled another boiled egg as the platform reached the floor of the hall.
“I’d rather you didn’t think things that I thought had only occurred in the sanctity of my mind.”
“I’d rather you didn’t speak but what can you do.” Spiritwind finished his egg and walked towards the meeting point they’d arranged with last night's drinking buddies.
The reception area was packed. Hundreds of languages and voices mingled in the air, all conveying anticipation without need for understanding. Most heroes headed to the far wall. Brick and Spiritwind’s meeting point was a pillar several hundred metres in the opposite direction.
The human duo arrived to find the others already assembled. Bobby sat with his usual glow of pleasure. The Magwanvu was doubled over, grimacing as it tried to deal with a triple dose of hangover in a manner suggesting it couldn’t cope. Jam looked content. He’d taken a liquid without colour or texture that induced the sensation of being curled up comfortably in bed while making reality feel like nothing more than a vivid dream.
“Morning.” Brick spoke with a lift of his arm. He gauged the reaction to see if an apology was required. There wasn’t even a hint of concern in reply, allowing Brick to relax and wallow in the vague memories of several great nights out.
“Howdo.” Spiritwind’s greeting received the same response.
“So when does this gathering thing start?” Brick no sooner posed the question than a fanfare erupted.
The far wall that had been the focus of almost everyone else in the room rumbled, causing gasps of expected wonder from the crowd that had gathered. A dark hole appeared at its centre, growing until it reached the floor. As it did the heroes began pouring through, disappearing from sight the instant they reached it.
“We should go over there, right?” Brick exercised his heroic intuition.
“I would wholeheartedly agree.” Bobby prepared for the walk.
“It looks like such a long way.” The Magwanvu was horrified at the prospect.
“Which is why I brought a snack for the journey.” Spiritwind excitedly revealed a slice of wedding cake. The Magwanvu turned away. The thought of food threatened all three stomachs with spasms.
By the time the five warriors reached the hole the queue moved at a walking pace, unlike The Magwanvu who moved at the pace of an injured worm. Brick had spent the stroll talking to Jam, unaware the captain's mind was tucked up in bed. It allowed Brick to explain his argument for making all food taste like bacon. The constant speech had given Jam an anchor to reality. They all waited for The Magwanvu to catch up before passing through the void.
Brick looked up as he walked into the gaping chasm. He prided himself on his intrigue for things above eye level; however the darkness didn’t last. Before he had chance to adjust he was faced with a ceiling more ornate than the Queen’s favourite mantelpiece. It suited the rest of the room perfectly: a Victorian style theatre with all the modern technology needed for comfort. Brick looked to his right to find the rest of the crew sat in a row. He bypassed Spiritwind, who had been placed next to him, and spoke to Bobby. The grinning guru occupied the next chair along.
“Did I miss something because I don’t mind admitting I have no recollection of finding this seat and sitting down?”
“You were transported here.” Bobby spoke the answer with a whimsical smile.
“I don’t remember being asked permission to be disassembled and sent across a room.” Brick was grouchy due to transportation being so efficient rather than the fun process it had looked on telly.
“It’s the way all venues work in these times. Ushers were found to be an incredibly confusing breed, especially when placed with patrons who were in a building for the very first time. No sooner had directions of varying degrees of confusion been given than the patron would instantly forget what they had been told and simply bumble their way around the building as though none the wiser. Once transportation technology became cheap enough it was decided easier to scan patrons and seat them atom by atom instead. Even the amateur theatre I attend does it this way. Wonderful performances for non-professionals.”
“Right then." Brick turned to his left to see a stereotypical 1950’s alien sat down. “Zarg. Good to see you.” The alien looked as bemused as Brick had been moments before.
“You seem to be addressing me in a familiar fashion when I don’t have the faintest idea who you are.”
“It’s me, Brick. You haven’t forgotten me already? Are you not Zarg?”
“No. I’m Jonathan, hero of the Jefferian race and here to represent my kin.” The attitude could have been Zarg’s.
“Sorry, my mistake; you look exactly like someone I know.”
“Yet intriguingly different.” Spiritwind piped up with a joke finding its way in to a second adventure.
“Do you intend to harass me also?” Jonathan was growing less impressed.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“How much fun it promises to be.”
The conversation ended with a dimming of the lights and a soft glow emerging from the stage. Two figures of obscene bulk could be made out at the back, faintly lit by the aura of the room. They were Hugo Cortizone and Irish Delirium, the two highest ranked heroes alive. Irish had stepped away from front line heroics focusing more on the administrative and ambassadorial side of good; however any being that once saved the universe maintains the aura that destiny is theirs to change, an aura that seeped out and captivated anyone that came within his presence. His eyes still assured those that gazed towards them that everything would be alright, and you could trust him on that.
The humanoid pillars of honesty stood motionless and in silence as a microphone rose from the front centre of the stage. It awaited the speaker that appeared from the left: An impossibly tall and slender body supported a head that could only be described as a romantically inspired love heart, white and ceramic in texture. Two large eyes blinked as it approached while a mouth so small its existence could be denied prepared to speak. It wasn’t quick enough to avoid commentary from Brick.
“That must be Reason. I’m glad a man sized penguin didn’t just turn up. I think we can confirm last night ended in a dream.”
“That isn’t Reason my amusing peer.” Bobby offered further enlightenment. “That’s The Voice of Reason. The great one believes his own voice couldn’t do justice to the great messages he imparts so he employs somebody to speak for him.”
“So Reason could be a penguin?”
“I don’t see why not. Penguins are notoriously reasonable creatures.” Jam couldn’t help but overhear and puzzled over where he’d seen a penguin to incorporate it into his dream. The Magwanvu remained perfectly still, vomit the threatened punishment for movement.
Nobody else spoke as a noise of incomparable splendour filled every orifice in the room. Brick couldn’t hear the actual words, his sense of being dwarfed by the sound's beauty. Each word melted into the listener's chest and toured their entire body thrice, stimulating each sense on the journey before leaving through every pore in their skin. The words weren’t simply heard they were smelt, tasted, seen and felt; each offering the warmth only a mother can bring. Eventually Brick tuned in to the message.
“……it is clear from the numbers here today that the battle is already being fought, and that we are behind. Every seat in this
theatre should have a hero within it, but sadly so many are empty. They have succumbed to the apathy that is attacking us. Too many could just not be bothered to turn up.” The Voice of Reason waved its hand. The theatre walls and ceiling disappeared, replaced by a map of space that everyone sat inside. Jam definitely hadn’t seen this coming but enjoyed it thoroughly. The Magwanvu, who had been building the confidence to move, had to close its eyes and dream of stable places. The Voice continued.
“Before you is a map of the entire universe as best we understand it. Let me show you.” Another waft of the hand colour coded the billion or so dots of light that surrounded them. “The planets in red are those with the largest concentration of apathy, those in blue are being infected by those around them. Note its potency, how one single world can infect hundreds, thousands by its side if left unchecked for only a few millennia.” Both The Voice's hands were raised causing the map to move in a manner suggesting the theatregoers were hurtling through space. The Magwanvu chose the most unfortunate of times to check if the projection had gone away. Red and blue planets dominated the landscape as Brick’s eyes struggled to keep up with the pace. The Voice continued talking over the imagery.
"We know not how long this has been going on. We have only begun to notice anything amiss in recent draflans (weeks). Our hurried research has shown all the red planets to be Earth franchises. They have been set to produce apathy on a scale never before told. Fortunately for us we have two heroes within our ranks who hail from one of these infected Earths.” Brick and Spiritwind’s interest grew at the prospect of seeing two fellow Earthlings. “They were called to aid Reason only last night, a consultation in which they excelled. Arise, Brick Wall and Spiritwind Capernicus Jones. Receive the plaudits for your efforts.”
The seats the two humans sat on rose from their place to around fifteen feet in the air. Everyone applauded. Brick waved for no reason other than it seemed the thing to do. “These two, grade one heroes managed to pinpoint the weapon that has been turned on the Earth: comfy seating. The residents have been given the key to a good rest before growing the appreciation to know when it is deserved. It has proved disastrous.” The clapping increased. Brick waved faster in response. Spiritwind was bewildered, but vocal.
“All this for watching telly after a night out? There’s definitely something too easy about this hero game.”
“Maybe we just make it seem easy?”
The Voice continued once more. “Now that you know what, I will hand you over to your captain to find out how you shall defeat it.” Brick and Spiritwind fell back in to place as The Voice of Reason floated off the way it had come. Irish Delirium stepped forward. The map of space disappeared and the theatre surroundings returned.
“Well done men. It’ll be a pleasure to stand by your side.” The point was aimed at Brick and Spiritwind. The normality of Irish’s voice took a moment to adjust to. Jam jerked his seat in an effort to make it fly. “Fellow heroes, you have heard the quest before us. We must vanquish apathy from our universe. We must find who is doing this, where they are doing it from, and how. Then we must find a way to stop them. We will employ hero strategy 642: If you know where things are going wrong just turn up and all the clues will fall in to your lap.” A loud applause suggested agreement.
“We have divided up all the franchise planets for exploration. Based on the experience of your crew and capability of your craft, we’ve assigned the specific planets your team should focus on. The information has been passed on to your ship’s computers. You must be aware that Earth franchises are usually strictly off limits to visitors but we have been granted special dispensation for the purpose of our mission. In recognition of this you must be discrete at all times. Any beings that do not share the human form must wear human suits at all times. Cloaking devices and careful consideration over parking should be used. Follow the code men, and success will follow.” Irish adopted the standard victory stance: both arms above head, feet shoulder width apart.
The stage went black. By the time the house lights came up the theatre was practically empty. Everyone had rushed to their ships. The only people left seated were the crew of The Little Tub of Fun.
"I need one of those voices. Imagine the combination of those tones and my hair. I’d be irresistible.” Brick focused on the important points.
“Did you know he was talking in every language at once?” Spiritwind spoke from behind the complimentary brochure he’d found tucked in the seat in front.
“That’s a ridiculous thing to say.” Brick had nothing but derision.
“Ridiculous but true. It says here: The theatre is divided in to language sections thus its imperative you remain in the seat you’re given. The Voice of Reason speaks in every tongue and will direct them accordingly. All other speakers will be translated by some very clever technology woven into the chair.”
“What else does it say?”
“This year’s panto’s sold out.”
“Have we stopped hurtling through space?” The Magwanvu prayed to anything that wanted to be its saviour.
“We have, but we’re about to start hurtling through our own space on our way to destiny.” Brick realised the sentence had sounded better in his head.
“You feel free to hurtle. I shall be strolling posthumously.” Spiritwind countered Brick’s hurtle.
“Do you even know what posthumous means?”
“It doesn’t matter because I know you don’t.” Spiritwind locked the conversation with logic.
“Fair point.”
Bobby coaxed The Magwanvu in to following the crew to their vehicle, ahead of Jam who ambled at the back, wondering if he’d remembered to fill the drinks cabinet to party level. He was equally unsure if his insurance covered him to drive in the dream world. The legal world was such a complicated place. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t gone in to law, that and he didn’t suit wigs.
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