Chapter 162: Saviour Of The Universe

Chapter 162: Saviour Of The Universe

I live in London, or at least I used to. Sometimes Id go into the city, usually by bus, to where all the famous buildings are. Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palacethese iconic landmarks steeped in history, full of endeavour and accomplishment.

And Id feel nothing.

Id seen them so many times, in photographs, in movies, exploding, aeroplanes crashing into them, people crawling up their sides and running across their roofs, they didnt even look real. I barely noticed them, most of the time.

They were just things surrounding me, no different to the Starbucks on the corner or an anonymous office block.

People talk about culture and tradition as though their importance is self-explanatory. It isnt to me. Patriotism? Why? Other than pure self-interest, why is the place where I live any more important than anywhere else?

Even when Ive been in a crowd of people thoroughly enjoying themselves, maybe a concert or a festival, Ive never felt part of something bigger than myself. Ive never felt connected to the tribe. I never get carried away by the excitement of others.

It made me feel like I was a bit broken. Part of the human experience was denied to me, and it looked like a fairly important part.

Standing on the rim of a mountain, staring at an alien landscape, made me feel something I dont think Ive ever genuinely felt before: awe.

It didnt look like a postcard or a scene from a movie. It looked real. And new.

The sky over the dunes was different to the blanket of clouds that had sat over us since wed arrived in this world. It was an unending sky with depth that couldnt be fathomed. Like looking at a filmed fireplace on an HD screen and marvelling at how realistic it appeared, and then looking at an actual fire and realising the fake wasnt even close.

There were stars. The longer I stared at the sky, the more stars appeared, as though my presence was summoning them, although more likely my eyes were just taking time to adjust. These werent just tiny pinholes arranged in patterns, they moved. Some streaked, flickered, some went out as I watched.

A glow on the horizon grew into a ball of dim green light. It looked like a moon but maybe half the size of our own. And it had rings around it like Saturn, but rings that spanned both horizontally and vertically, crossing each other.

It was astonishing. We all stood there, silently taking in the wonder, and we didnt even need to wear 3D specs.

Light from the stars reflected off the surface below us in a way that seemed impossible, dancing and swirling as winds shifted the sands. Dunes elongated into mountains, and then collapsed. Invisible hands seemed to shape towers and valleys, not in the way waves move across a sea, but forming solid, twisting, gravity-defying structures that look like they could stand a hundred years, only to be wiped away and replaced by something even more fantastical.

And what did all this wonderment make me think? That such beauty shouldnt be lost? That only evil would seek to destroy these things for its own selfish ends? That I had to do all I could to prevent such a thing from happening?

No.

I felt like this massive jumble of a universe didnt need saving. Even if I had the ability to do something about it, what would it achieve? All acts were temporary. Nothing lasted. Change was inevitable.

Or was it?

I turned to Phil who was standing beside me. Can you stop time? I just want to check something.

He snapped his fingers and everything froze in place. Not just the sands, but the stars too. A whole universe fixed in place. An awesome power. Nothing moved apart from us, but something had changedthe feeling of wonder was gone. It looked unreal, like a James Cameron special effect. Impressive but artificial.

We could stop bad things from happening, but it meant stopping all things from happening. And then what?

Thanks, I said to Phil, thats enough. I turned around and walked back to the stables. Inside, the boxes had quieted down. I think they may have been sleeping, but how the hell would you tell?

288 was standing exactly where wed left him. He was a bit of a wonder himself. A walking penis that could do household chores. Every womans dream.

You think hell be able to tell? I asked.

Maurice shrugged. I did get some useful information out of him about the masters. Their fighting styles, their preferred weapons, even their names. He pushed his slipping glasses back up his nose.

Really? You can pronounce their names?

Well, no. But Ive done close approximations for them. He handed his notebook over to me. There were rough sketches of the masters with names next to each. Comfort, Unscathed, Dark Melody, Skull Face, Cheeser, Manly, Killdozer, Gamba and Bisquick.

You had to hand it to Maurice, he put the time in.

Nice. I thought his Dad sounded more like Biscuit. I handed the notebook back.

Sure. We can call him that. He made an adjustment.

There was a flutter of wings and more scuffling. I stumbled out of the stall in time to witness a mass exodus of flappy-boxes. They flew out of their stalls and through the doorway in a swarm, somehow not smashing into each other.

I followed them out. There must have been dozens of them flying off into the pink-white sky, forming a V-shaped formation like geese.

The others slowly came out to stand beside me and watch them circle us as the sky lightened.

The golems were still standing to attention, ignoring us and the flock of boxes. A tremor under my feet drew my attention to the other side of the mountaintop. The masters emerged through the Palace gates. They looked quite chipper as they stomped towards us.

We leave to collect our tributes, said Chengs father. Will you come with us?

I have my tribute already, said Cheng placing a hand on Mandys shoulder. Her face was a mixture of dread and relief. Sure, she was being selected as a form of nourishment, but its still nice to be chosen.

Biscuit nodded. You may train as you see fit, but the golems have been instructed to make sure none of our guests leaves the stables. The golems turned and began walking towards us. I will leave 288 to fetch and carry for you. He took off. He didnt even spread his wings, just lifted into the air followed by the other masters.

By the way, I realise, technically, Biscuit wasnt strictly speaking a he. Non-sexual beings dont have a gender, but since hed built himself a penis I think we can assume he identified as male (with detachable donger).

Speaking of which, the donger in question flapped his wings and flew up to the lead golem. They seemed to be having a conversation. I couldnt hear what was being said but 288 did most of the talking.

It occurred to me that 288 might be a spy. Had we revealed any key information around him? More than likely, yes, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Unless there was a way to wipe his memory. It would probably require a phenomenal kick up the arse.

It didnt really matter. If anything Chengs father would admire our ingenuity if we broke into the treasury. It was the sort of thing ambitious types expected in others; maybe even admired. The only thing we had to keep secret was Phils ability to stop time.

The golems closed in on us, pushing us back inside. They formed a perimeter around the stables and stood sentry to prevent us from leaving. A lot of good it would do them.

Once everyone was ready to move out, Phil activated his time-stop and we walked past the immobile golems without being challenged.

Now we have to find the treasury, I said. Which way to the East Wing?

This way, said 288, flying past me.

Shit. He wasnt affected by the time-stop. Hed been made when Mr Biscuit wasnt on this world, so technically he was the same as usimmune. Meaning we had a guide to lead us straight to the treasury, which was good. And that our secret wasnt going to stay very secret if I didnt do something about it. Which was bad. Very, very bad.