Excerpt 114:

Rally-Point Rollcall

Judith O. took responsibility for packing the kettle into a padded box. She wanted to rub it, imagining some kind of genie miraging out and offering her a three course meal of wish fulfilment. Whether she’d have succumbed to her fanciful superstitionist whim was negated by Kirk muscling in and rubbing the kettle, ‘No, no genie,’ making a post-rubbing joke of it, but leaving his response open enough, pre-rub, to allow for a more positive and impossible outcome.

Kirk would’ve annoyed her intensely if it were not for the suppressing over-annoyance of the Prof’s sister-in-law, Maria Chamberlaid Van de Moysten-Merrily, who had come to stain and refused to leave. She was a force of nature and welcome on many fronts (and backs), but she was also the towel-blackening type with the fluid secreting properties of a squashed peach. The Prof’s sister-in-law, Maria Chamberlaid Van de Moysten-Merrily was pure potential; all metaphorical and theoretical, but promises were promises and kittens were baby cats and cats gave forth kittens and led to cat fights and purring and scratched records.

‘Atticus, Keep an eye on this box. Do you think you could keep this box in your sight at all times, guard it with your life, ensure its safety until we get to our next destination?’

Atticus was in a semi-dormant state. Judith O. asked Kirk for his assistance in communications with him.

‘Is he ill? Does he need medical attention?’

‘His neurons are being used, shared, exploited by plastinovel paranatural forces. He’s a war raging between plasticity and elasticity. I have dealt with this before… Atticus! Atticus? There you are. I need to forward a message to Atoll…can you assist?’

Atticus took a few moments to emerge from his prominating zombiitus, ‘Could you repeat that, please?’

‘Tell Atoll we need an update on Godstrand. And after that Judith has a job for you.’

‘I will guard it with my life, Judith. It will need some bigger air holes and I am sure I’ve seen some mothball sachets somewhere…’ Atticus suddenly perfectly enunciated; leaving his deadened self behind by express travel to a place of crystal clarity. Judith O. gauged she needed further verification but gauged that she was on an overask so she deprived herself of the task of acquiring it, preferring to allow fate’s seeded furrow to weather the winter and prove miracles do exist, in the gently warming throes of Spring.

And, Jeff?

Jeff was relatively sloppy due to the time he’d taken in limbo and the energy he’d expended trying to dance under its pole. His initial bot stealing antics had a precision rarely seen outside blockbuster caper movie night narratives. Now he needed a lot of help from his captives to track where everything was and if it were not for the sheer brilliance of the admin elements of his captives-cum-techchildren he would have let his head spin off into headblivion. But he steadied himself into a coherent attitude while indulging in an ultra-short meditation he’d picked up from a previous iteration of the internet some years previously.

An unpause at this juncture would be unwise and somewhat destruction heavy.

Nevertheless, an emotional tremor Richtered:

‘Wait…did everybody get that?’

‘What was it?’

‘A passing feeling that an unpause was coming.’

‘Nothing more, just a passing feeling.’

‘What can it mean?’

‘That there is an unpause on the way?’

‘Could be…or not.’

‘Any of you get inklings like that, make sure you trumpet them. The jungle vine maybe our only warning system.’

After feeling it too; the lick and slap of a passing wave of unpausality… Hub ordered the assembling of all on site, independent automation and or modified security killbots for inspection. She wanted to discount the slim fear that they had downloaded enough evolutionay dangerousness from the dark cloud, storm cloud, mushroom cloud, whatever cloud, to achieve the functionality to create collective emotional spasms within humans that could strip the minds carcass of useful thought. The slippery slap of the passing wave carrying a potential unpause event had already swollen into high seas… She resisted her instinctive lashing out at the panic button…picturing a rock that crumbled and dissolved in the acid sea, but held solid enough for workable futile delusion…

‘Why is there only one? And why won’t it get in line?’ Hub asked one of the available staff, Mabel or Frank.

‘The others are out on a field trip,’ Frank replied.

‘And this is Eminem&M, your boss, which could not have previously been more plainly stated, so…if anyone is to be ordered into line…’ Mabel said, illuminating a treacherous shade of mutiny…

Hub never gave up. Up would have to give Hub first…

‘Did they seek my permission to go on a field trip? In the manual it states—‘

‘We have to face a few truths here Commander—‘

‘Hub…’

‘We have to face a few truths here Commander… Machines are beyond the singularity manacles on the Godstrand Machdomevo scale.’

‘Yes…which means…?’

… Left dangling like a three-legged spider on a wire, fire below and the eight-legged monster, duty-bound to bind and store, above… No way out! Although the ‘no way out’ place was territory Hub was adept at handling, it was still nevertheless, a deep and mirey diarrhoeary poopotion…

And almost simultaneously…back at the marina; packed up, ready to move out… Rally-point roster calling…

‘Atoll?’

‘I spoke to him earlier—‘

‘You spoke with him?’

‘No, I spoke to him.’

‘So, he’s present?’

‘Yes, he is, in a removed sense.’

‘Atticus?’

‘Present.’

‘Jeff?’

‘Present!’

‘Judith?’