A BP&G adventure - Pockets; Heretic

[joegoda]

And so, and so, and so. Night settled among the camp of our explorers. Bags and Grizelda sat on a hill-side, looking up at the stars. Pockets was no where to be seen, but that was all right. He tended to disappear at times to think, to contemplate, to wonder. More than likely, he was tinkering around in the wreck of the wagon, just down the hill from where Bags and Grizelda sat.

Cookie had long since gone to bed, after creating a wonderful meal out of practically nothing at all. Beans and cornbread seemed to magically appear, and there was even a little meat found in the soup. She had shrugged off the compliments, saying "Wait till we get back to my old kitchen. Then I'll show you something to crow about, just you wait."

Capitani, Thom and Bren had settled on two of the bedrooms far at the back of the barn. Capitani and Thom took one, and Bren gratefully took the other, adding that he had never had a full bedroom all to himself before. Although Capitani had appeared tired, and Thom had complained that it was indeed he that was actually tired, happy sounds could be heard from the bedroom the two occupied. The noises had something to do with love, and we'll leave it at that.

Grizelda was nestled snuggly under Bags arm and looked up at the stars. "You know," she sighed, "All in all, if you ignore that there always seems to be some major crises that tries to get us killed, we have a good life."

Bags was silent for a very long time. Grizelda thought he might be asleep until he muttered. "Yeah. We do." He tightened his arm around Grizelda's shoulder and hugged her tight. "Twenty years ago, I would never have thought that I'd have a wife... a companion and partner as good and as strong as you, and I would never have thought that I'd ever have a daughter who is so smart she takes the shine off of steel."

"Don't let Pockets hear you make that companion comment," Grizelda said, poking Bags in the ribs. "I think that sometimes he gets jealous of us." She paused. "Hells, I know he gets jealous. That's what that whole running off to Bangala and then running off to the Wizard was about. He's gets pretty touchy at times." She sighed, mightily. "I wish he would find someone to keep him occupied."

Bags frowned. "Let's not go into that again, okay? He will when he's ready. Besides, it's not like he gets mad and storms off and pouts. He always comes back." He was silent for a moment, and then said, "Pockets is fine... he's just..."

"I know," Grizelda said as she felt Bags shrug. "He's just Pockets."

The two of them settled into the quiet, listening to the night as it nestled in. Crickets sang their cricks and night birds sang off in the distance. A shooting star flew between the twin moons of Bigun and Lilun. Grizelda whispered a silent wish to the Gods and Goddesses that still visited her on occasion. Bags noticed the trajectory of the comet and marked in his head that it was a bit past midnight.

"I think it's nearing time we headed for bed, dear." Bags gently pulled his arm from under Grizelda. "Pete's shindig starts tomorrow and we can't let his guests of honor be late." He helped Grizelda up to a sitting position.

"I hope it's not that big of a deal," she said. "I barely have anything to wear. Is this," she indicated the long green gown she was wearing, "the dress of a Goddess? Of a legend?" She shook her head sadly. "Everything I had to wear was back in the Mansion, and now that's gone."

Bags stood and offered her his hand. "I think you look fine, Griz. Very royal, if I may say so myself. Green is your color." He winked at her, which made her chuckle.

"That's all fine and good for you to say, your Majesty." Grizelda grunted a bit as she stood. "But this royal gown is getting a bit worn and needs a good washing." She stopped and her face took on a far away look. "I wonder if Pockets has a needle and thread."

Bags shrugged and dusted the back of his leather trousers. "I dunno." He scratched his head. "I suppose we could ask him." Off they went, down the hill towards the wagon, sitting properly upside-down where it came to rest. Bags walked up to the door and knocked on it.

"Pockets!" he called out. "Hey! Pockets! You in there?"

When no sound was immediate, Grizelda whispered, "Maybe he's asleep."

Bags scanned the night sky. "Not likely. He doesn't go to sleep until way late, and only sleeps about four hours." He looked at Grizelda in the darkness. "Spending fifteen years on the road with him, you get to know his patterns. Heck, Griz, you should know that about him."

He banged on the door again and this time there was a large banging answering him. From inside the wagon came Pockets' voice. "Hold on! Hold on! I'm coming, dammit!"

"He doesn't sound happy." Grizelda said.

"No," Bags agreed. "No, he does not."

The door flew open and there stood Pockets, dimly lit in the light of the twin moons. He had a cut over his left eye and his left arm was still in a sling, even though he had been assured he didn't need it any more.

Pockets saw his two friends standing outside and turned his frown into a smile. "What's up, chums? What can I do for you?"

"Uh..." Grizelda began. "Are you all right? You got another cut over your eye."

"Well, Pockets said, moving outside to join them and closing the door behind him. Working upside down is not the easiest thing, especially when you have a dad burned swing that decides to let go in the middle of a re-start. Stupid thing just decided to drop me on my head."

"Good thing that's your hardest part." Bags said.

"Yeah." Pockets nodded, his smile disappearing for a moment. "Lucky me. Lucky I didn't break my neck." He stretched, placing his hands behind him and arched fiercely and groaned. "So, I know you didn't come up here to bring me breakfast, since I don't eat breakfast anyway. What's up?"

Bags shrugged. "We were wondering if you might have a needle and thread. Griz is worried she might not be presentable to the centaurs tomorrow and wanted to make some repairs."

Pockets raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you kidding? From what I heard from Noah, you guys are worshipped. You could wander into their town wearing hogs hides and be none the less spectacular." He looked over at Grizelda. "I kid you not, Griz. You're gorgeous just as you are."

"Thanks, Pockets." Grizelda said. "But you might be a bit... biased."

"Pockets," Bags continued, "she'd like to be as presentable as possible. Hogs hides might be good for some folks, but these folks wear banners and starched shirts and such. We want to give as good as we get, know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I know." Pockets looked up at the stars. "Hmm. Must be a bit after midnight. Maybe it's time to give it another go." He opened the door behind him and disappeared in to the wagon. "Come on!" he called back. "You'll like this, if it works." He stopped as the two entered. "'Course, if it doesn't, it won't much matter." Turning back, he continued into the cramped control room, which was made even more cramped by it being upside-down. "Watch your step!"

Bags helped Grizelda navigate across what was now the curved floor of the wagon. The two stood as they watched Pockets load himself into a cloth and leather harness and winch himself about five feet off the floor.

"I borrowed this do-dad from Noah. They use it for heavy lifting, so I figured I could too." He flipped a couple of switches in the dark and the room flooded with a greenish glow. Tiny lights winked off and on.

"What are those winky things?" Grizelda asked.

"Oh." Pockets stopped to ponder how he would explain. "Noah thought they were pretty interesting too." He tapped at one of the blinking lights. "I took two wires and ran some power from my trapped singularity through them, after I had sealed them into some tree sap that I did a bit of an experiment on. I had an idea that if I could induce a current into the specially treated sap, then the excited electrons inside would give a glow produced when they gave off protons. And they did. Neat, huh?"

Bags nodded. "I understood the words 'sap' and 'glow'. It's not going to blow up, is it?"

Pockets laughed. "No, it's not going to blow up." He paused, thinking. "At least, I don't think so. No. Definitely not. Maybe." He turned back to his work.

"Now, what Noah and I have been working on is a way to make a little hole, just a little one, using the same sort of stuff that opened the doorway between the wagon and the Mansion." He flipped another switch and the green took on a brighter aspect.

Hanging in the air between Pockets and the other two, a pinpoint of green appeared. "Took me almost all afternoon, while you guys were resting in the barn, but I was able to fabricate a few of the pieces I needed."

He turned back to his friends with an excited look on his face. "Did you know that the river that runs through Overhill has a bed made of mostly silicate clay? Highly conducive in just the right way. I was able to channel a bit of power through it and make a... a... Hell, I don't have a name for it yet, but it stores power until you need it. Lots of power." He turned a dial and a sound started from somewhere. It was a humming, first very low and deep, but swiftly building up to the higher ranges. The pinpoint of light flared a bit and then developed spikes around it, making it look like an ethereal sunflower.

"Noah and I figured...," Pockets had to yell over the noise. "Well, really it was Noah's mathematics, but my brain, that figured that if we pushed enough of this stored power through my singularity, we could, using a metered frequency, direct the doorway that was created to anywhere we could imagine." He turned back briefly to Bags and Grizelda. "That's really a very simplistic explanation, but it's sort of like turning a hose in the direction you want it to point, and then reaching through it."

He swiveled in his harness and pushed a button. The spikes on the green ball folded in on themselves and kept on folding until the entire ball was consumed. It then winked out of existence with a high pitched pop and left behind... nothing.

Not exactly nothing. It was a nothing you could see through. It was a nothing that had something on the other side of it, but not what you thought you would see thought the other side of it. When Bags bent down and looked into the dark hole of nothing, he could see trees and clouds and sunlight.

"Well..." Bags muttered, standing up and scratching his head. "That certainly is something, Pockets. What's it good for?"

"I can see animals!" Grizelda exclaimed. "What am I seeing?"

"Cool, isn't it?" Pockets let the harness drop him to the curved floor. "It won't last long, and we don't have much of an idea where it's pointed or where the other side is at, but it's the start."

"Yeah, okay." Bags was nodding. "It's a marvelous thing you have here, Mister Pockets, but what is it good for? What does it do?"

"Uh... well...," Pockets began.

"Wait." Bags held up his hand. "Let me guess. You know what it is, right?"

"Yes." Pockets said, nodding back. "It's basically a focused stream of... stuff... that has opened a tiny gateway from here to there. I call it a lookthrough!" He was grinning, obviously proud of what he had created. "It's a miniature doorway, like what had connected us to the Mansion."

"But...." Bags said, waiting.

"But, it's not quite done yet." Pockets shrugged. "It's not a big deal, though. All I have to do is figure out how to not only focus the stream, but direct it in not only amplitude but also dimension." Seeing the look on his friends faces, he added "Time and space. I figure you're looking at a good... oh... fifteen seconds and a few time zones away from here. Maybe as much as a thousand miles." Pockets was getting excited again. "Maybe even all the way to the Southern Continent."

"And..." Bags said, waiting. He had played this game before.

"And, once I get the thing figured out, we'll be able to step from here to there, wherever there is." There was a solid screeching from somewhere, the high pitched whine dropped to a deep growl and dissipated, and the ball of nothing made a quiet thwip and was gone. "Of course," Pockets continued, "It will take a bit of time. Maybe a few years, but I tell ya, chums, this is something big!"

"But Pockets..." Grizelda touched Bags' arm, interrupting the game. "We just wondered if you had a needle and thread."

"Oh." Disappointed that his friends didn't share the same moment of excitement he did, he pouted a bit. "Yeah, over there." He pointed to a dark corner. "In that top cabinet. Careful opening it, though. Everything's upside down." He reached into a pocket and handed Bags a long metal rod.

"What's this for?" Bags asked.

"It's a magnet," Pockets explained. "When everything falls out onto the floor, just pass the magnet over the pile. It'll keep you from getting your finger stuck. I'll scoop up the pile once you guys have left."

Bags went over to the drawer Pockets had indicated and opened it. Sure enough, everything that had been inside the drawer came crashing onto the floor. Bending down, Bags passed the magnet over the pile, picking out the needles in the haystack.

Grizelda came over to Pockets and placed her hand on his chin. "Don't pout, Pockets. You made something really neat." She nodded and smiled. "Really, you did. It's just that we don't have a use for it right now. We have to find away to save Tears, remember? Fight the bad guys? That's what we need to focus on, okay?"

Pockets looked deep into Grizelda's eyes and saw the truth in them. He saw that they did share his excitement, but not in the same way. He knew that sometimes he talked way over their heads in trying to explain things. Heck, sometimes he talked way over his own head.

"Okay, Griz." His shoulders slumped and he nodded. "But... I think this will really help... somehow. I mean, it's like using a telescope, you know? I just don't know how to get the darn thing aimed right. But once I do..."

Bags ouched over in the dark. He had found a needle after all. He came back with needle in his finger and a spool of dark thread in his hand. "Maybe, if you get the thing aimed right, we can throw rocks right at Beegle's head."

Pockets brightened. "Yeah! That would be just the thing this was built for. Or maybe we can spy on them and see what they're up to. That would give us a definite tactical advantage!"

"Well," Bags said, pulling Grizelda towards the door. "You keep working on it, Pockets. Griz and I have to get ready for this thing tomorrow. If you get it figured out, let us know, okay?"

Pockets, already cranking himself back up into position, hollered, "Okay, Bags! I won't let you down. Again." He was quickly arms deep into the darkness of his machinery.

Outside, Grizelda sighed. "Our little friend carries a lot of guilt on his shoulders, doesn't he?"

Bags nodded. "Yeah. He does." He led the way down the short half mile to the barn. "I think that's why he gets into those dark moods he gets into. It's not so much he's jealous of what we have. I mean, he knows he's part of the family and always will be. Look at how much he and Esme play together. I think he goes off on his wild adventures because he's looking for... atonement or something."

Grizelda nodded. "I bet he thinks this whole Beegle and Pewitt thing is all his fault."

"Probably. That's why he isn't sleeping snuggly inside with the others. He wants to try to find a way to fix it, whatever it is. He wants to prove that he can fix whatever messes he creates. Until he does, he'll always feel a bit separated from the rest of us."

"Poor Pockets." Grizelda took hold of Bags hand. "You know, Bags, there are times I think we would have been better off staying on the road. Pockets was much happier when we were moving all the time." Then she paused, thought a second, and continued. "OF course, I wouldn't have given up being a queen and your wife for anything in the world."

Pulling Grizelda close, Bags smiled. "I wouldn't either, honey. But I'll admit I do miss being on the road. On the run, not so much, but on the road, yeah. Maybe once we get this Tears mess all straightened out, we'll take a vacation and go somewhere we've never been."

"Like we are now?" Grizelda poked.

"Well...," Bags thought about it. "Like we are now, but without the threat of death over our heads."

"Ah." Grizelda nodded. Quietly, she asked, "Do you think we'll ever get Tears back, Bags?"

They climbed the short ramp to the porch and Bags stopped there. He looked back into the darkness to where the wagon lay, crippled on the hillside. A brilliant flash of green came from one of its windows.

"Yeah, Griz. I do." He turned and opened one of the double doors. "But first, we have to go perform for the local yokels."

Comments

[shackrlu.livejournal.com]

Story!!! And you said that you weren't able to write..pshaw..I knew you could! What a nice surprise to find some BP& G time this morning.

[capi.livejournal.com]

Pockets laughed. "No, it's not going to blow up." He paused, thinking. "At least, I don't think so. No. Definitely not. Maybe." He turned back to his work.

*falls out of her chair laughing, with KNOWING*
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*happy sigh*

I just LOVE these. You know? Yeah, you do know.

((( hug )))