A BP&G adventure - Pockets; Heretic

[joegoda]

Bags looked at the group and asked, "Is everyone all right? No bones broken? Anyone hurt?"

Pockets said, "Well, there's my arm and..."

"I didn't mean you." Bags said, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Oh." Pockets pouted and rubbed his bad arm. "I did get hurt, you know."

Bags stopped, considered, and then gently said, "I know, chum. I can see that." He put his arm around his old friend's shoulders. "It's good to see you and all that, but we just came from a house that got sucked into the ground."

This peaked Pockets' interest. "Sucked into the ground? The whole thing?" He looked at Esme. "What happened?"

Esme, still wrapped around Pockets neck, said, "I'll tell you later, Unk."

A figure stood in the doorway, darkening the already dim light in the wagon even more. Peter, Mayor of Overhill, was no longer wearing military togs, but was dressed in a blue blazer with a red sash, clasped with a large golden eight pointed star. "Is everyone all right?" He asked.

"Yeah, we're fine." Bags said. "Nothing broken, except for maybe Pockets' pride and his arm." He looked over at Peter and nodded. "Nothing that we can't handle, though."

"Thank goodness," Peter said. "When we saw the wagon tumble off the side of the mountain, we had feared that all inside had been killed." He looked curiously at the group. "I was also led to understand from our rescue team that there was only one person in this wagon when they got here."

Noah piped up from behind the group of adventurers and said, "They just got here, Mayor! The door where you're standing turned all liquid-like and shimmery. There was a very loud hum and then bang! There they were, all falling over each other like they were in a great big hurry to get from there to here. 'Course, I was scared out of my wits. I'd never seen anything like it. Soon as I switched this machine on, the whole thing happened so fast I didn't even have time to blink. I think it has something to do with manipulating the frequencies of the surrounding..." He stopped. His face screwed up and he thought. Then he shrugged. "Something or other. I dunno, really. It's his do dad." He pointed at Pockets. "I sure would like to get a chance to take it apart!"

Pockets smiled sadly and said, "Maybe you'll get that chance, buddy. It's not good for much right now anyway. Only thing it was good for was moving stuff from the Mansion in Tears to the wag..." He paused. "Hmmm...," he hummed. His eyes started to lose focus and he muttered, mostly to himself, "Course, it doesn't have an anchor any more..."

A little smile grew on his round face. "I wonder." He turned his eyes up toward the floor of the steering control and they glazed over. "Noah, let's talk." He grabbed Noah's arm and led him outside into the sunlight, talking a mile a minute and waving his arms. Noah was listening and nodding as the two disappeared.

"We've lost him." Grizelda nudged Bags with her shoulder. "Wonder what he's going to come up with next."

Bags sighed. "Let's just hope it doesn't cause anything to blow up."

Capitani, sounding worried, asked softly, "Is Pockets all right?"

Grizelda nodded. "He's okay, Capitani." She touched the thin woman's arm pulled Capitani to her, hugging hard. "He'll be in some sort of a frenzy talking to that poor centaur for hours. Maybe days. Something, who knows what, tweaked his mind into overdrive. When he's like this, you can talk to him, but don't expect much sense in reply until it's over." Grizelda paused, and then shrugged. "We're kind of used to it."

Peter stood quietly during the discussion, his arms crossed over his chest, his front hoof pawing the ground. Eventually, when his internal pressure cooker could stand no more, he cleared his throat. "Yesssss..." He stretched the word out until it became a sigh. "I'm certainly glad to see that everyone is all right." He looked over his left shoulder at nothing in particular. "It appears that it is getting later in the day. Perhaps we can leave this..." he glance around, "rather dismal place for somewhere a bit less crowded."

Bags looked around and nodded. "Yeah. It is a bit crowded, I guess." He pushed himself to the front of the crowd, and said, "Lead on, Pete."

The trip from the broken wagon to the building that had been held for the group was short. The fall down the mountain had placed the wagon very close and after a walk of about ten minutes, they arrived at their destination. Still, it was not terribly near the actual village. Bags figured it would be another three or four miles before they actually entered Overhill. He mentioned the distance to Peter.

"I didn't want to cause too much of a disturbance in the daily lives of the other villagers, you see." Peter looked appraisingly at the house. "This was left over from the last humans that were here. It's not much, admittedly, but they didn't seem to mind."

The group looked at the building which was big and square and boxy. The building was almost the size of the Mansion in Tears. Or would have been almost the size of the Mansion if the Mansion had not been reduced to a pile of rubble and leaves. Here, it was two stories tall, white painted and red roofed, with a large covered porch in the front. The building's two large double doors faced in the direction of the village of Overhill, presumably so that the occupants could see the village and the villagers could see the movements of the occupants. It was Grizelda who summed up the thoughts of all present.

"It's a barn," she said simply. She stepped up onto the little porch and opened the double doors. Crossing the threshold, she turned slowly, left and right. "Yep. It's a barn all right."

Although the outside of the house looked like very barnlike, the inside was quite a bit less so. It was wide and it was tall and it was roomy. The entire group followed Grizelda though the double doors to join her inside. Peter clopped up a short ramp to the porch and stayed near the doors, letting the group examine their new quarters.

The main room was exactly what one would expect in a barn, plus a bit more. In some senses, it was quite a bit like the mansion due to its roominess. The main room was very large and open and furnished not at all. Not a stick of furniture or pictures or decorations of any kind could be seen. There wasn't even a bale of hay, which one would expect in a barn.

There were, however, gaslights scattered around the room, and the light gave a cozier feel to the massive room. It helped that the interior was paneled in a light colored wood, and reflected the gaslight to even the most remote corners. There were two ladders that led from either side of the main room to a second level.

Peter nodded as he watched the reactions of the humans. "We started with the basic design that we had used for decades." He looked at Grizelda, and smile shyly. "And yes, it was a barn. We made a few modifications to it to suit the last humans that were here about four years ago." Peter shrugged. "I know it's not much, so, please, your Majesties, accept it as a token from simple folk."

The place had already started to work it's homeliness on the group. Capitani, Thom and Bren had settled on the front porch, trying out the rocking chairs that had been placed there as if awaiting their arrival. Pockets and Noah were talking in hushed tones off to the side of the main room, their arms waving in the air in the universal language of two minds speaking genius to each other.

Toward the back of the enormous main room, there were doorways that led off to darkened places that may have been closets or bedrooms or just places for storage. The kitchen appeared was off and to the right, and Cookie made a beeline for it. The sounds of happy pots banging and gentle Cookie cursing was heard.

Grizelda turned to Bags and nodded. "I think she's going to be happy here."

"It's pretty big, Pete." Bags walked up and knocked on one of the knurled posts that held up the roof over the front porch. It answered with the thunk of strong solid wood. "And very well built. I must say that I'm impressed."

"I'm pleased that you feel it is adequate to your needs." Peter looked toward the village, and then turned back to Bags. "We may be simple people, Bags, but we do have certain...," he looked away again. "I'm sorry, there really is something I have to attend to. Excuse me." He started to walk away, stopped and turned back. "If you have need of something, there is a device in the kitchen. Just speak into it and it will summon one of us." Turning back toward the village, he galloped away.

"How about some furniture?" Bag yelled at the retreating back. "Like some chairs and maybe a table?"

"It's in the back room," came Peter's voice, faintly.

Bags walked up the steps and stood in the open doorway. He leaned against the doorframe, folded his arms and cocked a leg. "Well, folks, make yourselves at home. I don't know how long we're gonna be here."

"This is beautiful, Bags." Grizelda gushed. "I thought we had some talented people in Tears, but look at this." She pointed to the molding that ran along the ceiling. "This was done by a master carpenter, I'd bet."

"Oh, yes ma'am!" Noah said. He had overheard and had broken loose from Pockets so that he could answer. Pockets didn't seem to notice. He had pulled a pencil from his pocket and was scribbling furiously on an empty spot on the wall.

"We have masters of all the major fields." Noah continued. "Carpentry is just one of the many things we do." He climbed the short ramp to the porch in an almost shy sort of way. If he had worn a hat, it would have been in his hands. "I, for example, work in the University as an instructor in basic electronics and mathematics. That is why the Mayor asked me to look at Pockets' little device. He figured if anyone could fix it, it would be me. Of course, he was right."

Capitani raised her eyebrows. "You have a University?"

"Oh, certainly." Noah's head bobbed up and down. His torso turned and he pointed down toward the village. "It's not able to be seen from this position, but if you cross the center of the village, it's the large brick building with the tile roof."

"Um," said Capitani, "Can anyone attend it?"

"Why, absolutely." Noah said. "It's a free University and if a young person shows a tendency and desire to attend, and can pass the admittance test, they are allowed to attend. At least, I think so. I can't remember anyone being rejected, but that might be because I tend to keep pretty much to myself and don't get involved in politics and things like that. It's possible that someone got rejected and I would have never even known about it. Why do you ask?"

Capitani looked over at Bren. "How about him?" She pointed at her son.

Noah took a step backwards. "Hhhim?" He stammered. "You mean... a human?"

"Yes," Capitani nodded. "My son, Bren."

Noah thought for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. He thought a bit more, opened his mouth, thought better of what he would have said and shut up again. Third time was a charm and he said, tentatively, "I don't know if it's ever been done. The only humans we had come through here were just a group of traveling musicians and they were old enough they didn't ask about the University." He got quiet and hummed to himself. "I don't see why not." He turned to look at Bren, lounging on a carved post. "He looks to be the right age, I suppose. I don't know all that much about humans, I'm afraid. And it would be something that I would have to ask the administration about."

Finally, he nodded and smiled largely. "By Gum, why not! It would certainly be an interesting experience, for both sides, I would bet! You would certainly have my full support. It's not like we have ever had a...," he searched for the word, "foreign exchange student." His hoof stamped once and he clapped his hands. "This could be the start of a whole new epoch in our history." His smile faded and he scratched behind one of his ears. "Of course, I would still have to present my case for his admittance."

Noah turned to Bren, calling out, "Say, you, human boy. Come here." Gone was Noah's initial nervous demeanor, replaced instead by the authoritarian voice of a University level instructor. Bren obediently left his post and walked over to where Noah was standing.

"Yes, sir?" He asked.

Noah nodded in approval. "Very good." he turned toward Capitani and Thom. "You have taught your young manners. You should see some of the ones I get in class. Always mumbling like their mouths are full of marbles and acting like they started the morning in a bar." He shook his head sadly and sighed. "Very sad, what this world is turning to." He glanced quickly back to the parents. "Of course, most are not like that at all. No, no, no. Most are well behaved and polite, like your young man...," He indicated Bren, standing next to him.

"Bren, sir."

"Brensir." Noah nodded. "Most are polite like young Brensir here."

"No." Bren said. "It's just Bren." He paused for the effect. "Sir."

"So, your last name is Sir?" Noah appeared confused. As he watched the effect this had, frustrating Bren, Noah winked. "Not to worry, Bren. I knew what you meant. I just wanted to show that not all adults are so serious all the time."

Bren looked helplessly at his parents. Capitani struggled to stifle an out and out laugh by pretending to cough, and Thom put on his patented "Don't ask me, I just live here." look. Sighing, he turned back to Noah. "Thank you, sir. I'll remember that."

"Good, good." Noah nodded. "Tell me, Bren. Would you like to attend our university? Study some of the finest works accumulated on the planet?"

Again, Bren looked over at his parents. They were of no help, but he could see a subtle look of pleading in his mother's eyes. He shrugged. "I guess so, sir."

Noah sternly looked over to Bren's parents. "There can be no guessing. This is a new thing, and we must be sure." He turned his sternness to Bren. "This is a yes or no situation, Bren. I can't even promise that you'll be admitted, but I have to have your commitment before I even decide to proceed." He reached out and touched the young man's sleeve. "I think it would be a wonderful opportunity for both the centaurs and the humans to share the knowledge of each other's society." He turned a sly eye up to the young man. "You'd be famous, Bren. The first human to attend a centaur university."

"Noah?" Pockets' voice came from outside. "I need to ask you a question or two about your hydrodynamic potential here. I have to plug the amperage into the equation. I have some guesses, but I'd rather know."

"I'll be right there, boss." Noah turned to Capitani. "It's something we can talk about after the ceremony, or tomorrow." He looked with excited eyes at Bren. "A human in our university. Who would have thought it." He chuckled merrily. "A human." He turned away and still chuckling, went to join Pockets.

Thom came over and draped his arm around his son's shoulders. "What do you think, Bren? You know your mother and I have always wanted you to get a better education than we had. This is a golden opportunity for you." He squeezed his hug tighter. "Besides," in a near imitation of Noah's voice, "you'll be famous!"

Bren, looking up at his father, asked, "Can I have some time to think about it? I don't even know if these people have classes in magic. You know I want to become a magician."

Capitani came over and placed her hands on either side of her son's face. "You take all the time you need, honey. This is a decision that only you can make." She kissed his cheek. "Don't be afraid to ask questions, okay? Like Bags says, be brave, be daring. You never know if you don't try."

Bren looked very seriously at his mother. He searched her eyes, saw what she was hoping he would say and said it. "I will, mom. I promise. Heck, maybe even if they don't have classes in magic, they might have classes in something that will help me do magic."

Thom nodded and smiled, proud that his son found the right words. "That's my boy. There are a thousand possibilities." He looked at his wife, who was showing signs of exhaustion. Shaking his son's shoulders once more, he said, "Let's see if we can find the bedrooms. I'm feeling a bit done in."

Capitani nodded her gratitude. "I think it's down this way," she said, leading her family down the hall, checking doors was she went. On her third try, on the third door, she exclaimed happily, "Oh! A featherbed!" and that was all that was heard from her that night.

Bags had watched the entire scene from the doorway. When it was over, he crossed to Grizelda, put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Do you think we'll be that happy in eighteen years?"

Grizelda snorted and smiled. "Dear Bags, if we're lucky, we'll live eighteen years. And if we live eighteen years, I don't think our wonder-child over there," she pointed at where Esme was playing catchum with a spider, "will need a university." Another brief laugh. "Hells, she might be running a university."

Bags nodded and smiled back at his wife. "You might be right, darlin'." He kissed her and smiled again. "You might just be right."