Effugium: The Time Remaining by Patrick Walts

Author:Patrick Walts [Walts, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-15T21:00:00+00:00

MEANWHILE…

“And that, my friends, is the story of how General Abraham Washington, fearless leader of the Justice Avengers of America, parted the Red Sea in order to escape the evil Skeletron and his army of killer robots.” The old man took a few quick puffs from his pipe and blew lazy smoke rings that drifted like a trio of sailing ships in a light breeze over his audience’s heads.

“I want to be a ‘teller one day,” said Clover to the old man, who was sitting upon his chair, which was carved into the wood of a giant, living tree trunk.

The other four listeners, sitting on the soft, clean grass laughed, but the old man raised his hand to silence them. They stretched, yawned, rose to their feet and left, presumably in search of food.

“Well then, young one, you must learn all of the stories. Not with your mind, but with your heart.” He patted himself on the chest. It isn’t easy keeping them all straight.”

“I know all the stories. At least the ones you’ve told us. I want to tell new stories.”

“Whatever for? There are no stories here to tell. We have no culture. This place is not our home. Lovely as it is, this planet is a glorified holding pen. A zoo, just like the ones they used to have back on Earth, full of lions, alligators, unicorns, gorillas, dinosaurs—you name it, they had it.”

“What if I said that I have a new story to tell? A story that has never been heard by anyone?”

“That is not the way of things,” said the old man, getting impatient. “You cannot simply make up new stories, it’s ridiculous!”

“I didn’t make it up,” said Clover. “It happened to me.”

“What happened to you?”

“So now you want to hear the story?”

“There can be no story!” The old ‘teller started coughing and didn’t stop for at least thirty seconds.

“Alright then,” said Clover, holding out her hand, “I guess you’ll not be wanting to know where this came from, then.”

The ‘teller squinted. Sitting on the girl’s palm was what upon first glanced seemed an ordinary bird, of the kind that flew overhead and was seen commonly. Other than the fact it was dead, there didn’t seem to be anything special about it.

But then he looked closer. The creature’s chest was split open, exposing not intestines, bloody flesh, bone, or anything else one would expect to find inside of a bird, but wires. He knew of wires from the stories that had been passed down to him by his mentor, but he’d never seen them, or seen anything of a mechanical nature, for that matter.

“That bird,” he said, wagging a bony finger at it, “that’s a machine. A machine, here on Ecc-Sial.”

“That’s right,” said Clover, beaming.

He looked up at her. She’d never seen the ‘teller struggle for words.

“Where,” he asked her, “did you find that?”

Clover shrugged. “Tell me you want to hear my story. That you’re wrong about there being no more stories.”

The ‘teller hesitated. “I can’t–”

“Well

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