T is for Time
Chapter Twenty Five
Irony continued to smile smugly.
As Brick and Spiritwind had prepared to begin questioning Zarg she’d noticed a buckle protruding from the alien’s ribs. Further investigation had revealed a bag on Zarg’s back.
The Jefferians had long passed the need for fashion, practicality sat at the core of their clothing. Everything they wore gave them warmth and protection without the hindrance of looking a certain way, except for the gloves which were designed to uphold a stereotype. It cut out social friction altogether, although magazine sales had dwindled to almost nil as a result. The bag Zarg wore blended in to his body perfectly; hence it hadn’t been spotted until Irony caught the glinting buckle as she’d turned aloofly away from Coincidence.
Brick had emptied the contents in a polite yet thorough manner. The slice of Dovwar pie had stirred Spiritwind, however seeing the look of panic in Zarg’s eyes when he realised he may lose it had spoken to Spiritwind in a way no words could. Spiritwind would never deny a fellow lover of food their passion. Replacing the various contents, most of which appeared to only be useful to Zarg, Brick left one item out: the silver gloves. Spiritwind adopted them as his own for the purpose of study as Brick focused his attention on Zarg. The concepts remained observers in a vague semi circle arrangement.
“You’ll get nothing from me.” Zarg stared resolutely away from Brick.
“Why?” Brick had never interrogated anyone before.
“Why? Is he serious?” Zarg looked for support from the concepts. All they offered were nods and murmurs to confirm the human was indeed serious. “I’m the bad guy and you two are what loosely fulfil the term good guys. When does the bad guy ever help the good guy?”
“When on the brink of defeat he decides to help for no reason other than to leave a lasting good impression and to let everyone know that deep down he had a good heart and maybe you shouldn’t hate him so much. Although personally I think that’s a cop out. Prove you’re good at the start. Your actions were only brought on by impending death, a death you brought on yourself by starting the whole mess through greed. Rather than saving the day when it’s gone too far consider what you’re starting. Would make a terrible film but it’s morally sound.” Brick vented a long held thought.
“For future reference its best not to actually ask him a direct question.” Fate offered Zarg a tip.
Brick continued to speak to Zarg. “To be fair you barely fill the bad guy role. You’re more the loveable, confused follower of the bad guy that no-one really blames.” Zarg took offence.
“And who are you, Hugo Cortizone?” Hugo Cortizone was the greatest hero in the universe. Even legends and Gods had his poster on their walls. The comment was entirely lost on Brick who wouldn’t know Hugo if he wore a T-shirt bearing his own name and shook Brick by the hand while stating ‘Hello I’m Hugo Cortizone’.
Brick’s confusion saw him turn to the concepts. Zarg sat disappointed at not being considered the bad guy type. As the alien matured he would see this as a good thing, but for now it was another insult to add to his growing bitterness.
Brick eventually spoke to the concepts. “Anyone wish to offer any of that help you’re here to give? I’m looking at you Fate with your ‘not going to help out’ face.”
Fate had been thinking about something else and felt surprised at suddenly being singled out. “My what? Not helping out face? I don’t have a ‘not helping out’ face. Do I?”
“Oh you do.” Spiritwind continued to toy with the gloves as he joined in his friend’s verbal mischief. “You’re pulling it right now.”
“Really?” Fate touched his cheeks with a hint of concern. “I thought this was my casual, relaxing face.”
“It is. Casually relaxing and not helping anyone out.” As Brick continued to torment Fate, Spiritwind observed Zarg letting down his defences. Believing the focus of the room to have shifted the alien had taken a few deep breaths, revealing an expression of concern that belied the stubborn, confident attitude he displayed. Spiritwind pounced, moving in close and pulling his most intimidating grimace.
“Tell me everything you know.” Spiritwind caught Zarg completely off guard. Jumping backwards in his chair the alien had nothing but stutters and the beginnings of words. Spiritwind continued. “Where is your base?” It seemed a perfectly apt question for the circumstance, although had the alien answered coherently rather than the stream of stuttering noises, neither Brick nor Spiritwind would have known how to use the information. “How do the gloves work?” Zarg looked deep in to Spiritwind’s eyes as he moved ever closer. Spiritwind’s true nature betrayed his words as gentleness seeped from within. The little alien’s composure gathered itself before sidling into the corner in embarrassment at momentarily being lost.
“For a moment there you had me.” A heavy breathing punctuated Zarg’s response.
“Tell us wha….”
“It’s gone now though.” Zarg took control once more.
“Are you sure?” Spiritwind continued to grimace.
“I’m more than sure. You just look uncomfortable now.”
“Oh.” Spiritwind’s face returned to ambivalence.
“I believe effort should be rewarded though so I’ll answer one question.”
Spiritwind put his hand across Brick’s mouth before he could blurt out the first thing that came to mind. “What do the gloves do?” Spiritwind sensed the gloves were important. After trying them on he realised they offered no warmth and suspected they may be for something else. The concepts stood around, intrigued at the live theatre being played out before them.
“I can’t tell you about the gloves; anything else but not the gloves.” Zarg knew the power they held would offer too big an advantage to the duo, no matter how incompetent they seemed.
“You said you’d answer one question.” Brick felt the law was on their side.
“And I will. I never said I’d answer any question.” Everyone recounted the previous sentences. Annoyingly the little alien was correct. Spiritwind opted for a different tactic.
“Rubbish gloves anyway. They don’t even keep your hands warm. What’s the point in a pair of gloves that don’t keep your hands warm?”
Brick picked up on the roués and joined in. He suspected he knew where his fellow hero wished to take the conversation. “That’s aliens for you. Shoddy. Guess that’s why we’re winning.” Brick’s smug grin was too much for Zarg’s teenage need for the upper hand. The alien let out a scoff worthy of royalty.
“Something amusing, Zarg; other than your species attempt at a pair of gloves?” Spiritwind and Brick shared their own scoff.
“If only you knew what you held.” Zarg shook his head to stop the words pouring from him.
“We do know what we hold, a rubbish pair of gloves that don’t even look good.” The human duo smirked at each other.
“You won’t be smirking when we steal the very heart from your society.” Zarg’s tongue loosened.
“As long as you leave my bed well alone you can take whatever you like.” Brick had never spoken a truer sentence. Zarg could tell, irking him further.
“I suppose your feeble minds with your basic understanding of the universe believe time to be frozen too.” Another scoff escaped Zarg as his tone hardened and his skin turned slightly yellow in frustration. By now his parents would have bitten and he could vent his fury with vague justification. His mind had nothing to process except the need to prove the two bumbling captors wrong.
“On a day such as this I’m presuming nothing, especially when it comes to my understanding of time; however my understanding of gloves knows that this is a pair from a species with a very poor grasp of hand wear.” Spiritwind’s sentence creaked at the level of patronising tone he squeezed in to it. It was too much for Zarg. He had to regain the upper hand and prove he knew infinitely more than the duo, no mater what it took
“Well what if I told you that those ‘gloves’ actually created a time fiel
d around the wearer allowing them to move objects that are seemingly frozen.” Zarg’s skin returned to its natural colour at the release of the tension he’d built up. His mind's ability for straight thinking also returned with a crash, furious at the mess anger and frustration had left behind. He knew instantly what he’d done and hung his head in shame at being goaded in to giving up information.
“I’d say thank you very much and cheekily ask how to control them?” Spiritwind’s wink poured salt across Zarg’s gaping error. A sulk descended across the alien as his lower lip poked out to signal his mood to the world. The concepts looked at each other amazed that success had found its way through such chaos.
“Right, time to find some food.” Spiritwind slipped the gloves back on and searched for a switch of any kind. He retreated to the building materials for test purposes.
Fate approached Brick with a suggestion: “If you intend to go out to search for food perhaps you should combine it with an away mission of your own? See what you can find out.” Fate’s belief in the duo had risen slightly. Perhaps their unorthodox style held some merit within heroics. It was not a view shared by the other concepts as their eyebrows were raised in unison at the suggestion of letting the pair out unsupervised.
“Us two? Alone? In a world frozen in time and in possession of magical gloves that offer complete control of everything? Is that wise?” Brick felt obliged to spell it out to Fate.
“Yes. After what I’ve just seen I trust you.” The concepts added a wide eyed glance and a frown to the eyebrow display. “If there are any problems we can appear alongside you for assistance.”
“Like an army of Obi Won Kenobi’s.” Brick waved an imaginary light sabre around for no purpose other than his own pleasure.
“Something like that.” It was easier to just agree.
“So we do save the world then.” Brick continued to battle nothing. Fate had begun walking away only to return to answer Brick’s comment.
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, you’re Fate. You know how everything turns out. Surely you wouldn’t send us out on a mission unless you know we succeed.” Brick raised his arms victorious. He’d apparently defeated the unseen foe.
“I explained all that. I don’t see the specifics. I’m just acting on what feels right.”
“But you know the ultimate outcome of all this?”
“In a way.” Fate turned to vagueness as a defence.
“So we must save the world.” Brick’s logic approached sense without ever reaching it.
“You know I can’t reveal anything so I don’t know why you keep asking.”
“Why do the waves continue to batter the rocks? For one day they know they will produce sand.” Brick’s arms floated in time to his sentence. Fut overheard the comment and joined in. Fate was glad of the rest.
“Those be some sweet sounding lyrics my man. Mind if I pass them round your home globe?”
“Why don’t I invite you over and you can be my guest?” Brick answered in the smooth ones own manner.
“I ain’t catching your words too cleanly. Would you be placing a tick in my yes box or saying not today. I’m cool with either reply.” Fut bobbed and grinned as though his favourite song had begun playing in his mind.
“It’s a yes. Did I not make that clear? I thought I made that very clear.” Brick looked around confused. Everyone else had important things to stare at blankly.
“Language is most beautiful when we can all grasp a sample of the pie we verbalise. Keep it clear my man.” Fut bobbed away with a grin as Brick stood open mouthed.
“I’ve definitely got the hang of these now.” Spiritwind spoke as he juggled three bricks. Everyone turned to face him, except Karma and Irony who continued chatting. Brick instantly desired a set of gloves for himself. He returned to Zarg.
“I don’t suppose you’ve another pair of those gloves?” Zarg swung his legs without any reaction to Brick. “Maybe you’ve another bag hidden somewhere about you? Your stomach maybe?” Zarg continued to pay no attention even though he felt hurt at the stomach comment. He’d been doing sit ups every morning for the last week in an effort to rid himself of his troublesome puppy fat. “Have you got anything cooler than the gloves?”
Zarg muttered beneath his breath. “Can’t hear you.”
Brick leant towards his ear and prepared to shout. Rather than risk the burst eardrum Zarg answered. “Obviously I can actually hear you but I’m sulking, which means for all intents and purposes I’m not going to respond.”
“You responded then.” Brick, for some reason, felt being pedantic would win Zarg round.
“To save my hearing, now if you don’t mind leave me to sulk in peace.”
Brick turned around and left the alien to it. Ignorance of a sulk was always the best way to break it. Persistence merely fed the beast. He moved on to Fate. “Have you got a pair of those gloves?”
“Why would I have a pair?”
“Why would you not?” It seemed a valid question in Brick’s head.
“I can show you how to make a pair.” They saw an opening for some potential truths.
“Really?” Brick’s desire blinkered him to his conversation partner.
“Yep. All you need is a clock, an onion, a ball of wool and an old sock.”
Brick let the ingredients run through his mind before dismissing the idea. Spiritwind interrupted. “Look at that.” Spiritwind had dropped a brick only for it to stop at knee height. Reaching for the object extended the field towards it, meaning every time you tried to retrieve it, it moved slightly further away. “How frustrating could that get?” Nobody shared Spiritwind’s excitement as Brick bent Fate’s ear further.
“What about any gadgets?” If Fate ever intended to enter a bemused face contest now would have been the perfect time to do so.
“Why don’t you share the gloves? One hand each.” Fate had a simple solution.
“I can see why you got the job of Fate. Its responsible thinking like that that’ll see us to the success you foresaw.” Brick walked away before Fate could answer.
A brief conversation saw Spiritwind leave the bricks in mid air and hand over the left glove, a fact which benefited everyone as Brick’s left hand dexterity reigned supreme. The well haired one instantly encountered a problem.
“There’s only four bits for me fingers. What have you done with the other one?” He turned accusingly to Spiritwind.
“I haven’t done anything. He’s only got four fingers.”
“Really. Mr Alien. Show us your hand.” Brick aimed his voice at Zarg.
“Would you like me to roll on the floor so you can kick me and laugh in my face too?” Zarg’s sarcasm illustrated the fact his hands were tied to the chair.
“Oh yeh. Sorry. How many fingers have you got?”
“Four.” Zarg was so outraged at the further mockery he was receiving he forgot he was meant to be sulking.
“And there’s no sneaky thumb you’re not counting as a finger just to be funny? A more specific question would involve long definitions of what constitutes a finger but what I’m getting at is how many extra bits would you need on a glove?” Brick believed he’d closed all get out clauses. If Zarg had control of his hand he would have signalled the answer two, in vehement fashion. As it was he offered a bemused response of four before remembering the sulky silence he was supposed to be in the midst of. He cursed his brief resumption of speech and added an extra layer of sadness to his face.
Brick tried various combinations of two fingers in one pocket before settling on the most comfortable. As he put his tongue of concentration away he declared the duo’s intent to a room that had been watching all along, mesmerised by the ineptitude displayed to achieve such a simple task. “We shall now stride forth.”
“Indeed.” Spiritwind concurred as the pair waved a gloved hand each towards the concepts.
“Don’t forget to sort out the map while we’re gone.” Brick left instructions.
“We will.” Fate didn’t know what else to say.
“And a pointing stick. If you don’t get the stick you may as well not bother with the map.” The duo disappeared down the stairs with a stumble from Brick. Coincidence turned to his brother.
“Was that really such a good idea?”
“Probably not.” What had Fate done?
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