“But isn’t that exactly what you want? You’re always saying what’s wrong with this world. Why wouldn’t you want that to change?”
The Space Chicken looked confused, distressed and mildly vacant again. “I do want a new, better world. But I want a world run by the people, for the people, not controlled by the first person to take charge. You can understand that it doesn’t work if one person has their way and no-one else has theirs.”
“I agree. I want that world to.”
“That’s why I don’t want David Gratton to open the Fez. When he does that, he can do anything. If the twins open the Fez, that won’t happen. I can’t promise the world will stay the same, or indeed that I’d want it to, but if I prevent David Gratton from opening the Fez, I’ve prevented the worst from happening. Clint and Clein aren’t part of our lives any more; they’re part of the solution. And pretty soon even we won’t have intertwined lives any more. It will be Fred Jr and me, and you will have your old life back.”
Chapter 66
On the morning of 97th Quinquomber 2042, Jordan still refused to wake. There are said to be a select few people who are silent thinkers, living their lives in content philosophy, but sharing none of their understanding with the world. The life of a silent thinker is lonely, but they exist in a blissful realm beyond words, so their knowledge of harmony cannot be passed onto those still hung up of literacy. Jordan Sprot was not one of these people.
“Get up,” said the Space Chicken. “We need to ask you a favour.”
Jordan groaned. “What is it?”
“I’ve got an alien who wants to go home.”
“What?”
“You’re a scientist. I thought you might help to reverse the idea that Dave is on Glix.”
“Go find the rift.”
“It’s deeper than that.”
“No it isn’t. Leave me alone.”
Dave perked up. “What do you mean ‘Go find the rift’?”
“It’s just a theory, Dave,” said the Space Chicken.
“And a theory, in scientific terminology,” said Jordan, “is an idea with sufficient evidence in favour.”
“That doesn’t mean to say it will work.”
“No, I want to hear,” said Dave. “What about the rifts?”
“Doesn’t he know about the Islands of Rednuht and Retawnair?” Jordan asked.
“The what?”
“The rifts.”
“I know of the rifts,” said Dave. “The rules of Glix. I don’t see how they can help us.”
“If we manipulate the rules of the world, we can change anything,” Jordan grumbled.
“What do you actually want to happen?” asked Dave.
“You want to go home. If we make a switch to stop Dave being here, he should get sent home.”
Dave had never thought about the switches as working like that. He always thought they were already present, but could be altered to suit a means. He didn’t know there was a conscious, selfish element to it.
“There’s more to it than that,” the Space Chicken said. “You need someone to arrange to pull the switch. And where will Dave be? Will he just disappear?”
“No, you can pull a switch to open up the portal and then allow Dave to wander through at some point within a select timeframe.”
“You can really do that?” asked Dave.
“Of course. It’s quite simple technology.”
And with that, the Space Chicken, Fred Jr and Dave left Jordan Sprot’s house and set off to think further.
Chapter 67
Clint, Clein, Old Man Tales and Dave Gratton II sat in a tent atop the Fez.
“Have you ever felt as though you’re not needed?” asked David Gratton II.
“Yep,” said Clint. “I feel it all the time. It’s what happens when there’s another of you.”
“As though you have no place in the world. It’s not just being a student, it’s being inessential. Being replaced.”
“Don’t do this,” Old Man Tales advised.
“No, it’s all right,” said Two. “I’ve come to terms with it. I have no place. I’ve lost my job and role.”
“How do you mean?” asked Clint.
“Everything that once was me has been replaced. I was a man. Now I have been overtaken in that position.”
“By whom?”
“By David Gratton. He took my place as a leader and he took away from me myself.”
“I thought you were David Gratton,” said Clein.
“No, I’m just a replica.” David Gratton II stepped out of the tent and stood near the edge of the Fez.
“Don’t do this, David,” Old Man Tales warned.
“And why not?”
“You are someone. You are a brilliant individual.”
“My place has been taken by David Gratton. I am nothing.”
“You are David Gratton.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve already explained this to the twins. I’m not David Gratton. I’m Two.”
“You are David Gratton. You’re better than David Gratton. You’re anything you want to be.”
“Why would I want to be anything other than what I am, which is what I don’t want to be – not just for me to be, but to be at all?”
“Because you could do anything with your life.”
“Like what? My life was to lead— no, no-one should instruct— to guide.”
“Anyone has the right to guide,” said Old Man Tales. “You can still do that, David.”
“No. My place has been taken by David Gratton I. I’m not bitter, but I’m defunct.”
Old Man Tales screamed. Clint exhaled every chemical in his body. Clein felt the hottest, most intoxicating silence he had ever seen. David Gratton II tumbled like an autumn leaf.
Clint and Clein had a plan. They desperately ran to the opposite side of the Fez and pressed buttons as quickly as they could, in the hope that they would jump the Fez close to Two and roll him back up the sliding wall. It didn’t work. With each successive slam, the Fez was forced a metre back on itself. The rush to rescue Two became faster and farther.
And then silence. All sound was empty but for the washing of the waves. The side of the Fez clashed with Two and there was no jump, only a tumbling and a splash as the cold hand of death clutched David Gratton II’s body and threw him into the Nord-Luc sea.
Chapter 68
“Are we going to go, then?” the Space Chicken asked Dave.
‘I am able to fly up and pull the switch for you.’
Dave thought about this. “If I go now, I will forever wonder what happens next.” That was always the case, he thought. “I’ll not know what happens about David Gratton.”
“Nothing happens! I’ve abolished the concept of David Gratton opening the Fez. I’ve abolished David Gratton. Clint and Clein shall open the Fez.”
“Fine.” David reworded his reasoning to stay. “I want to know what’s inside. I will stay on Glix until Clint and Clein shall open the Fez.”
“If that’s the case, so shall I.”
Chapter 69
Quack was anxious. This was often the case when people assumed you wouldn’t speak to them any more. Quack had resolved that this would be the end.
“Hello?” said the Space Chicken as he answered his phone. “Who is this?”
“It’s Quack. I’m here to apologise. I shouldn’t leave you. I’m always here, available to talk. But you can’t look up to me any more. That would be a universal philosophy. Never view anyone as above you.”
“It’s okay, Quack.”
“I’m sorry. I abandoned you in a time of need. But I’m not different from any other person. I’m sentient, and therefore open to flaws.”
“I’ve got something to tell You,” Dave said. “I’m going home.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I can’t live here anymore. I have to be there for others.”
“What do you mean?” the Space Chicken asked.
“I have commitments back
home. On my planet, I have people who know me. They may not like me, respect me or help me, but I have to return for them.”
“Why?” asked Quack.
“Because they’ve always been there for me.”
“Have they?” asked the Space Chicken.
“No.”
“Then why return?”
“I just have to. It’s a responsibility. For the good of the whole.”
“Nothing’s for the good of the whole if it doesn’t help everyone.”
“It’s just something I have to do. I have to go back.”
“Well, have fun,” said Quack. “That’s all I’m here to say: have fun.”
“Can You say anything more?” the Space Chicken asked. “Any words on morality?”
“Yes. Have fun.”
“Is that it?”
“I’ve found there’s nothing else I can say.”
“Of course You can. Just tell people You exist and that they should be good.”
“I can’t do that.”
The Space Chicken’s face dropped. “Of course you can. Just tell people how to be moral. That will solve all the world’s problems. Just teach them.”
Quack smiled. In another dimension, the Space Chicken, Fred Jr and Dave saw. “I can’t because I can’t keep up the pretense that I’m more important than anyone else. Prophets teach. What am I saying? People teach. Just because my views have had a long time to develop, doesn’t mean they have. Having spent a long time developing views doesn’t make them any more important than just views. Everyone has views. And everyone’s views must be taken into account. Everyone must think to develop their views. But that’s not something I can tell them to do. Morality is not something that can be instructed; it can only be encouraged.”
“Then tell them that!”
“Space Chicken, it can’t be told. No words can from authority should claim a greater importance than the words of people.”
“Dave’s right,” said Quack.
“I don’t want you to leave,” said the Space Chicken.
“You don’t want me to leave, because I’m your friend. And I won’t leave you. Because I’m your friend, not because I’m a god. You’re misappropriating kindness.”
They sat in silence for a while. A long, thoughtful silence. Then Quack said:
“Where is it you’re going, Dave?”
“Home,” he replied. “I need to go home. But first I need my friends. We’re going back to Carpe Yolu until Clint and Clein open the Fez.”
Chapter 70
The Space Chicken, Fred Jr and Dave walked for many miles. Time became irrelevant; the only significant factors were the primal urges of nourishment and tiredness – these were only acted upon out of physical necessity. With time came the greatest strains, but these were ignored in favour of home. Home was the defining factor: the definite goal to which they aimed, and their home now was Carpe Yolu.
The wandering ran on, wearily, until they reached a point where all they could do was think – reflect. Dave was the primary reflector: the Space Chicken and Fred Jr would live on, contrive their lives on Glix. But everything would be different. It would no longer be struggle after struggle, but the peaceful life of father and son. Yes, there would be fights. There would be the struggle for dominance, but the painful struggle: the loving and loveable struggle.
And Quack would be there, though as a friend, not a ruler. The fact that a god created a planet would be irrelevant, were it not for friendship. For only in friendship have there yet been seen signs of true equality.
Clint and Clein would soon open the Fez. And they would have what they desired. The idea of a bad thing coming from the Fez had been eradicated. The Space Chicken, Dave, Fred Jr, Quack, Clint and Clein had all worked together as friends to prevent any wrongdoing. The group laboured towards the ultimate goal of peace. And they had won. Because of the dedication they showed towards the desire for co-operation, the workers had concocted one of the rare occasions in an unadvanced world such as Glix other planets lacking compassion for the weak, where everyone involved gained. Clint and Clein gained the ultimate prize. The Space Chicken and Fred Jr got to live in peace and gentle thought. Quack had pleasure – the pleasure and freedom to do what he liked, without the drollness of having to be looked at as a figure of authority simply because of the a position he was conceived into.
And Dave had the greatest gain of all. He got to go home. He got to go home with wisdom. When he returned, he could see the faults with his world and help to correct them. With everyone working as a whole, his world could become more efficient for everyone.
“Dave,” said the Space Chicken, “are you happy?”
Dave thought about this. Happiness wasn’t a concept he usually considered. But if his development had taught him anything, it was peace. Peace of mind, peace of heart, peace of community – whatever it was, he felt elation. Peace was everywhere. It was the blissful happiness of not having to hurt.
“Yes,” Dave said. If his Haca on Glix had taught him anything, it was peace.
“I’m beginning to get sentimental.”
“Me too,” Dave laughed. “Do you know how long I’ve been here?”
“Here in this spot?” asked the tired Space Chicken. “Not too long.”
“No.”
“On this trip? It feels like forever, but I’m pretty sure it can’t be longer than a day,” the Space Chicken said with a beaky smile. “We set off at the break of dawn and here we are as it nears the second dusk. That’s a lot of energy to put in for me. But I’m prepared to do it for you.” He smiled again, though he hadn’t stopped smiling the first time, and so awarded Dave the prized Cockerel double-smile. “There is a human who can help us get to the rifts. We’ll get there eventually, if you want to.”
“I meant on Glix.”
“No, we’re trying to get you off Glix.”
“No. I was asking how long you think I’ve been on Glix.”
“Oh.”
“Do you know?”
“I’ve no idea, I’m afraid.”
“A month. I’ve been on Glix a month today. That’s twenty days. Twenty mornings like this morning (though most were significantly lazier than the trek we started today) and twenty wonderful nights like tonight. Twenty days.”
“You’re learning,” the Space Chicken informed him in the most patronising way achievable whilst still holding onto a friendship. “Though just slightly too late.”
“No, I’ve known how long a Glix’n month was for a while now.”
“That’s good. Although I must inform you you’ve made a slight mistake. You haven’t been here for twenty mornings, since you arrived in the afternoon of 77th Quadquomber.”
“Ah. I knew I couldn’t be perfect all the time. I never was good with maths. I only just about understood that the 97th day is twenty days after the 77th.”
“Red.”
“What?”
“So much red,” said the Space Chicken. “The red Fez resonates in my mind.” They now entered Carpe Yolu, passing the sign they had pondered on several weeks prior. “As we walked over here,” the Space Chicken reminisced, “I looked at the red horizon and saw the rich memories I shall never forget.”
“Me too,” said Dave, for there was nothing more to say, or to be said. “When I’m back home, I will look at the sunset with a smile, as I remember the best of the worst.”
Dave could not help but smile. “How is your list?” he asked the Space Chicken.
“What?”
“We both had a list of problems we needed to solve. How is yours?”
“Blank,” said the Space Chicken. “But I have things to add. I need a new list. The problems I face are no longer simple tasks to be fixed at Quack’s request. They are issues of freedom and equality. Peace, love and harmony. The next world.”
Dave smiled.
“How’s yours?” the Space Chicken asked. “Is there anything on your list but ‘return home’?”
“No. We hav
e solved the David Gratton problem. The man who had once been the threat to freedom is nowhere to be seen. I’m not sure I even care what’s in the Fez.”
“Why not?”
Dave shrugged. “Because it will make Clint and Clein happy whatever. Beyond that, I don’t really mind.”
The Space Chicken smiled back at Dave with his Chickeny beak. The Space Chicken’s Chickeny beak, that is. “Have we solved all that can be done in this world?”
“What do you mean?” asked Dave. “There are still plenty of problems. So long as not everyone is living in blissful euphoria, there is more work to do.”
“Yes. But we have prevented David Gratton, and his success would have resulted in a dystopia. In preventing a dystopia and bringing joy to our friends, we have done all we need in this world, and all that is left is the creation of a utopia – the next world.”
“Is that it, then?”
“This is it, but this is not everything. I have a long way to go to perfect Utopia. And you have a long way to go to return home. But we can both do it. Everyone we know is on the brink of achieving their goal. You will have your home. Clint and Clein will have whatever’s in the Fez. And everyone will have Utopia.”
The Space Chicken, Dave and Fred Jr turned onto a wide street and saw a wall of red. I looked like a work of art, a commemoration to all they had just thought.
But sadly it wasn’t. Sadly, it was a red wall. Sadly, it had Clint and Clein sitting on top.
“Oh no,” said the Space Chicken. “Clint and Clein!” he shouted. “What are you doing up there?”
“We’re travelling on the Fez.”
“I know that. Why you on land?”
“We got sick of the sea. We needed more resources.”
“But you have to be the ones who open the Fez.”
“We will. We’re nearly there.”
“No, you’re not. We have no knowing when the Fez will open, or who will do it. That’s why you were out at sea. Now you’re back, in the open. Anyone could come along. David Gratton could be here.”
“I thought you said he didn’t exist anymore,” Clint said as a question.
“He won’t exist so long as you open the Fez yourselves! Why have you come back here?”
“Oh, it was great,” Clint said, not completely or partially answering the question.
“Wasn’t it?” said Clein.