“Wanna live?” Captain Sunblast asks.
But the shuttle vibrates and everything in the cabin begins to float. Soon enough, Captain Traumatic demands they be let out again.
“Birds cannot be forced to sit when they can fly,” Labaguette states as the King-Fool is prey to a burst of hilarity.
“Almost as good as being drunk,” he says.
“You can’t fix time,” Birdseye adds ominously, “this shuttle is damaged. It is dangerous,” while the Captain repeats:
“Let us out! Damn you Knights! Let us out!”
“We have lift off,” Captain Sunblast insists and almost as soon as he utters these last words, the engines stop and an uneasy silence, like a virus of unfathomable consequences, infiltrates the cabin.
It takes longer for Captain Sunblast to comprehend what has just happened because in his mind’s eye the shuttle is an all-powerful and invincible God. It is only when Captain Traumatic yells:
“God-damned you! Get us out of this God-damned con job of a rocket ship!”
that Captain Sunblast unfastens his seat belt and, sweating profusely, crosses his arms, standing with his legs apart like a cowboy in a spaghetti western. Finally, he can no longer resist it, for there is beauty in the perfection of a perfect misdemeanour, and he wipes the sweat off his forehead with one hand before rubbing it over his cosmonaut suit.
“You don’t look so well,” the King-Fool ventures, “this trip was rather short, has the shuttle—”
“—We’ve escaped the cracks of time in the nick of it. We’ve been able to rewind to time zone -2,417,498,557,393,619 which is precisely where we need to be now to enable us to press the restart button.”
“What? We were to move forward in time space, in the future,” the King-Fool says.
To be continued…