by Paul Vayro
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m sure it’s this one.” Jam led the party to the third different tier of the car park. His attempts to locate his craft were so far proving futile.
“You were sure about the last one.” Brick spoke without malice or annoyance. He was happy to explore Velos 19’s parking facilities.
“And if I’m wrong this time I’ll be equally sure of the next one. It has to be the right one at some point.” Jam’s logic was undeniable, if a little time consuming.
The merry band turned the corner to find a pile of metal creakily managing not to fall over. “There you go. I knew it had to be somewhere.” Jam beamed proudly as the others stopped and stared at their transport.
The Little Tub of Fun sat precariously on the ground, a five storey tower of metal at disjointed angles, loosely coming together to form a spaceship of dubious description. The bodywork suggested every shade of blue imaginable, all valiantly attempting to merge into one yet none succeeding.
“Does it fly?” Brick said what the rest were thinking as they approached the object.
“The heart of a ship isn’t worn on a coat of paint my new friends. Paint flakes away at the first signs of age but solid engineering grit remains true and clear for the full span of life, not caring for aesthetics. Its only concern is practicality. Plus what do I care how it looks? I’m usually sat inside the thing and from in there she looks marvellous.”
Reaching the craft the group could see spots of rust that had begun to take hold. Spiritwind gave the debacle a tap. The hollow echo was accompanied by an alarm system: Numerous hazard lights flashed, no sound joined the display.
“Now you’ve done it.” Jam reached into a hole in one of the large panels, pulling out a piece of rope and giving it a firm yank. The sound of simple mechanics could be heard falling in to place. A door fell open around ten feet above them, releasing a ladder that slid to the floor. Jam scurried up it. After a few moments the lights stopped. Jam returned to the doorway.
“Sorry about that. The alarm’s very sensitive.”
“It’s also very quiet, for an alarm that is.” Brick commented as he awaited his turn for entry. Bobby went first followed by the still struggling Magwanvu. The ladder didn't help. They weren't designed with synchronised triplicate beings in mind, particularly hung-over ones. Spiritwind ate a bag of something fruit flavoured and rubber textured while he waited for his turn.
“It used to be very loud but I got tired of setting it off every time I got in, disconnected the horn in the end.” Jam ushered everyone inside while he answered.
“Why not disconnect the lights? Must cost you a fortune in replacement bulbs?” Spiritwind was the last to enter, commenting and offering a sweet as he did.
“It does. Kids love nothing more than the temporary disco they get from a quick kick, but the insurance is cheaper with it. Anyway welcome to The Little Tub of Fun.” Jam bowed as the new crew assessed their surroundings. The Magwanvu mainly checked the carpet, fear of moving its heads too quickly kept its spectrum of focus minimal.
The group were in, what appeared to be, a welcoming area. It felt more like a Victorian hallway than a craft, only with a sense of homeliness rather than austere discipline. An ornate mirror hung on the wall, posed and professional looking family pictures of Shandy’s gone by littered the other surfaces. All were balls of hair with a nose protruding, even what appeared to be females and babies. A metal, spiral staircase rose from the corner leading to four further floors above. Jam ushered everybody towards it.
“If you’d like to make your way to the first floor, the main socialising quarters reside there.” Jam could feel the dream elixir wearing off. Reality began asking questions he couldn’t answer, such as ‘Who are these people you’ve let on board?’ He planned to remedy the situation with a quick visit to the nearest drinks cabinet he could find.
As each crew member alighted the stairs they strolled in to a room that required much study. Carpeted and wallpapered it felt homely and lived in, scruffy yet all the more pleasant for the feel of memories that lived there. Shelves and ornate tables housed trinkets of every variety, rugs splitting the room in to sections rather than walls. A large domed seating area sank into the floor to the right, a larger, brightly coloured dining table sat at the far wall they faced. The chairs offered comfort while the wall length window offered somewhere to stare should conversation stall. The walls that did exist were adorned with pictures of landscapes and architecture from across the universe, and large hangings of cloth offering soothing patterns and tertiary colours. Various cushions were spread around the room for seating purposes. A hammock hid itself away in the far corner. The lighting trickled from several sources, scattered lamps of differing sizes giving a feeling of serenity and calm. Everybody felt at ease, all doubts about the craft washed away.
“I need you all to put these on and believe as hard as possible that the ship will take off.” Jam destroyed the faith instilled by the décor with one simple sentence. He’d given each crew member a flat cap. The Magwanvu had no energy to argue and delicately lowered it on to its heads. Everybody did as asked. Only Brick raised a point to go with his compliance.
“What happened to engineering grit?”
“It’s fine. Just need some fuel. Old Tubby runs on belief and the tanks a little low. Thought while you were all here I may as well top up.”
Several minutes of room exploration passed, except from The Magwanvu who headed straight to the sofa. The new crew were only interrupted by a loud, northern voice. “That were luv’ly. Ta muchly.”
“Any time Tubs.” Jam collected in the hats.
“Was that the ship by any chance?” Spiritwind returned his head piece with a query.
“I see you’re the intelligent one. I’ll go and get her going then.” Jam didn’t wait for a reply and wandered to a carpeted bump in the corner of the room. Disappearing over the brow a number of clunks and swivels could be heard followed by a grinding noise and a gentle hum. Fun Tub needed time for the engine to reach take off temperature.
Spiritwind settled at the table, constructing a sandwich from numerous components he'd retrieved from around his body. Bobby sat by him, gazing out of the window, intermittently discussing how much he enjoyed his home planet. Spiritwind found his pleasantries a perfect accompaniment to snack building. Brick had found a random object and turned it over and over in his hands whilst The Magwanvu fell in to a much needed doze.
After around ten minutes an upward sensation signalled lift off. The creaks suggested it may have been better to stay on the ground.
With Velos 19 a diminishing speck out of the window Jam reappeared from behind the mound with a piece of paper and a stumble. The captain’s intoxicants were readily available in the cockpit.
“I’ve programmed me Little Fun Tub with the co-ordinates. Now all we have to do is await arrival.”
“Where are we heading?” Spiritwind enquired whilst looking for a suitable gap to redistribute the filling that had slipped from his latest dietary offering. The bald hero had made several sandwiches in order to keep the snacks flowing.
“We’ve been given three franchise planets to explore: one in the late twenty third century, one in the early twenty first century, and one in the time before time.” The paper Jam had been reading from started to change colour. He revelled in the confusion it caused him.
“We’re from the early twenty first century.” Spiritwind spoke while mildly celebrating finding a place for an odd shaped nugget of bacon.
“What’s this?” Brick had been fully engrossed with the random object he'd found and hadn’t listened to anything Jam had said. The object was about a foot in length, six inches wide, and had all manner of levers and moveable parts.
“It’s a distractionary item.” Jam was happy to have something else to stare at. Unfortunately it started changing colour too. It was either a coincidence or his eyes were broken again.
“That’s not an explanation.” Brick required facts
.
“I never said it was. It’s what it is though.” Jam needed a world with less colour.
“Fair point. Could I have an explanation?”
“If you can find somebody that knows the answer and is willing to share it.” Jam was proving to be an expert in procrastination.
“Does anybody know the answer? And if so are they willing to share it?” Both Brick and Jam checked the room for any raised hands. Returning to themselves they found Jam’s hand in the air.
“It would appear I know what it is and would be more than willing to tell you.”
“You do know you just made that whole process unnecessarily difficult?”
“Did I? Sorry about that.” Jam began wandering off.
“You are going to tell me though, about the object?” Brick had put too much effort in to not end with an answer.
“The object. Did I not tell you? Sorry about that. Is your face always blue by the way? It distracts you from whatever you need distracting from. Got a problem? Bored? Just pick it up, give it a poke, and you’ll soon forget what you were so concerned about.” Brick continued fiddling with the levers as Jam embellished his tale. “They were very popular for a while until whole economies began collapsing. People stopped turning up for work. Got so distracted by the thing they forgot to go in. Social events became impossible to organise. Nobody would turn up, or be so late all the hors d'oeuvres had dried up. Timekeeping became impossible and societies threatened to fall apart. They were banned in the end. Even that took a few centuries. Every time a judge asked to see one in order to assess it they were distracted from getting on with banning it. You don’t see many of them around anymore.” Jam could feel himself being drawn under its spell.
“Considering your attention span is it not a little dangerous to have around?” Brick couldn’t stop turning one mechanism after another.
“Definitely. I often get stuck circling a planet for weeks on end. I was once adopted as a moon, but every time I go to throw the thing out it distracts me.” Jam poked a lever to help Brick out.
The pair stopped speaking, focusing all their thoughts on to the item. Spiritwind stood with a butty in hand, the others within easy reach. He stared, offering the occasional suggestion of what to pull next. Bobby focused entirely out of the window and in to space. The Magwanvu remained comatose. The ship travelled on silently for an hour before the friendly, northern voice of the computer stepped in.
“JAM. JAM. You’re staring at that thing again me duck. Snap ‘owt of it. JAM.” The Magwanvu awoke with a triple start. Mopping up the inevitable dribble, they felt refreshed. They'd forgotten how it felt to not be hung-over. Standing up they strolled over to the table to find Brick, Jam, and Spiritwind staring in silence at the object.
“Are they under a spell? I was going to say that. Well you still can. It would hardly be valid for me to say it now. It’ll just sound like I’m copying. So why bother saying anything about it at all? Because I thought you two should know that I was about to say it. Well maybe we don’t care.” The Magwanvu instantly became embroiled in an argument with itself. The frustration of not being able to communicate to the world as individuals spilled out far too often, but therapy on their planet for such a thing was non-existent, as the therapists were also triplicate beings and suffered from the same issues.
“Are you arguing with yourself?” Bobby turned calmly from the window.
“No. We’re arguing with him.” All three pointed to their right. It helped clarity none. “Why are you arguing with me? I haven’t said anything. I wasn’t pointing at you I was pointing at him. Well I was arguing with him. So who was I arguing with?” Bobby could only chuckle before attempting to create peace.
“Does it matter? Bearing in mind half the crew is in stasis.” Bobby stood up and walked towards the static trio.
“That’s where it all started. I said are they under a spell? Which is what I was going to say. What I would have said if you didn’t always interrupt me….”
“They’re not under a spell. They’re just a little distracted by that thing in their hands. I was enjoying the peace and quiet but that seems to have passed now. We may as well bring them round.” Bobby snapped his fingers between the item and the eye line of the observers.
“Bacon wrapped in roast chicken skin.” Spiritwind snapped out of his trance.
“I’m not sure I’m easily distracted enough for this thing to work on me.” Brick spoke with the obliviousness of a victim of hypnosis about to dance like a piranha.
“Who’s up for a frothy fumbler?” Jam had worked out how to stop his sense of paranoia over who everyone was: get them drunk too. He headed to his main living quarter's bar before anybody responded. “It’ll be a while before we make it to the first planet, may as well have a cheeky drink for morale."
“What does a frothy fumbler do?” Brick wasn’t going to turn it down whatever the response. He found the awareness of his weak willpower compensated for its fickleness.
“They make the bigger picture of life and existence, appear incredibly simple, but make the simple tasks such as remembering where your hair is incredibly hard.”
“Do they come in doubles?”
“It’s the standard measure.” Fun Tub began living up to its name as everyone crowded round the bar. The Magwanvu had already forgotten the pain it had just defeated, plus it needed a drink to cope with itself. Bobby saw the whole adventure as a holiday and was happy to go along with anything, and Jam was simply Jam. Revelling in his position as host the hairy drunkard handed out the drinks. Brick and Spiritwind were growing accustomed to the hero lifestyle. It was turning out to be their dream job.
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