“I see.” Danish turned to the woman. “What is your name?”
“Paradox.”
“That’s an apt name, why would you want to create a catastrophic time event with a paradox, Paradox?”
“It’s what I was named for.”
“Where have you come from?”
“The Time War of 2036!”
“WHAAAAAT!!!? She is toxic, get her sent to precinct 13 straight away.”
“Don’t you want to know why there is a time war at 2036?”
Danish covered his ears and started to hum as did the others. He pressed the emergency relocate button and all of the personnel disappeared leaving Paradox in the room on her own. Paradox started to attach a time charge to the information access console and nearly managed to set it off before she too vanished.
Danish and the others reappeared. “Whew, that was close,” whewed Danish.
Lebil entered with the coffee and Danish for Danish, “Here we go, coffee and Danish for Danish.”
Just then Danish got a call from Franklyn, “I’m back from the future and I have something to tell you, the timewave is getting bigger and is starting to engulf time from the future to the past. We don’t have long before it hits our time.”
“We’re all doomed! Thank you Franklyn, see you soon, out.” He turned to Lebil, “The whole of time is collapsing. I could do with that manly punch in the arm now,” he said as he and Lebil punched each other in the arm in a manly way.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 5
Danish rubbed his arm and called for a meeting, “We only have 46 officers in Xanadu at this present time, we need two more to be able to cover the Time Precincts properly.”
Just then Arthur and Sid popped up, “I thought we might go to that coffee shop we visited in book three?” said Arthur to Lebil.
Danish looked at Arthur and Sid, “I am deputising you two again. We need to find Myxlbat in the precincts before he causes a paradox that will eat the whole of time.”
“So nothing much has happened since we were last in the story then?” commented Arthur.
“We need two people to go to precinct 13, I am asking for volunteers because I know how hard it is there with the un-caged time criminals.”
“We’ll do it,” said Sid, “I’m not scared of anything.”
“Except your mother-in-law,” butted in Arthur.
Sid paled a little, “Why’d ya have ta mention her. I was quite happy until you said that.”
“How else are you going to keep your grumpy dwarf tag, if I do not make you grumpy occasionally.”
“Ooooh, that was really…”
“Come on you two,” ordered Danish, “we need to get our acts together, not fall out over stupid things.”
Sid folded his arms and simmered.
“You all need to go down to requisitions to get the converted security robots.”
Captain Douglas came in, “Danish I want to see you in my office, now.”
Danish went with the captain who closed the door behind them. “I have a bone to pick with you, I was due for some leave tomorrow and now I find that my destination, the future, is being eaten by a time wave! I have been waiting for this holiday for two years. The last time I went to the future it was safe and sound, now it’s being eaten. Can I rely upon you to straighten this time wave out or do I have to, you know what?”
“No Sir, just leave the ‘you know what’ where it is. But you could try surfing on the timewave.”
“Oh yes, and where do I surf to, oblivion?”
“That’s a good game, I just don’t like the idolatry in it.”
“Danish!”
“We’ll be able to do the job, and by this time tomorrow the future will be back again, so you can get back to the future.”
“See that it is, I don’t want the wife nagging me about her lack of holiday future prospects. Ok, you can go now, and be careful.”
Danish went to the requisitions area. The others were there, each with two giant bags filled with small security robots. “Our mission is to find Myxlbat and to bag and tag him. I have no need to warn you of the seriousness of this mission. The whole of time depends on it. Ok ladies, let’s lock and load.”
“I think he’s been watching too many war films,” whispered Sid to Arthur.
Each pair of IPP’s started to use their IWT’s to travel to their prospective chosen precinct. Danish looked at Sid and Arthur, “If he escapes into time, you must tell us straight away, we can send the Captain to apprehend him.”
“Well he will not be going to the future,” said Arthur.
“Not unless he wants a permanent timewave,” said Sid.
Sid and Arthur twiddled their IWT buttons, so did Lebil and Danish, travelling to their chosen precincts.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 6
Precinct 13 of the time precincts: no longer a shopping precinct for time poppers but a hell in non-space for time criminals. Most paradoxed people could be dealt with by the Interdimensional Police Force at Xanadu, but time criminals were a different thing. They did not cause outrageous time events but stole information from the past which they could use in the present to make great gains. Xanadu had a deal with the Main Processor to keep them in precinct 13. One of the problems was though that the security presence on precinct 13 had been curtailed and for years the criminals had looked after themselves using provisions provided by the food transfer machines and their own ingenuity. As long as they didn’t escape then the Main Processor didn’t bother them too much and they were kept away from troubling the 7 dimensions.
Sid and Arthur materialised on one of the old unused RRP’s.
“What does RRP mean again?” asked Sid.
“Re RRR something Pad,” said Arthur.
“Can’t the author be bothered to look back at the first part?”
“I think we had better be a bit quieter for now, until we figure out what the situation is.”
“What is that smell?” asked Sid.
“I think we have hit the centaur section of the precinct.”
“Great, I think I’ve put my foot in it,” said Sid as he scraped his boot on the edge of the Re-Routing Pad.
“Oh I see he looked back at the first story,” commented Sid.
A centaur saw them, “Hello, who are you?”
“Arthur and Sid,” said Arthur.
“More criminals eh?”
“Rather,” replied Arthur.
“Have you introduced yourself to Santorini the boss of the centaurs yet?”
“Neigh,” neighed Sid.
“So you’re from the fantasy dimension like me?”
“Heargh,” hearghed Sid.
“What?”
“Sorry, I’m a bit horse,” joked Sid.
The centaur looked angry.
“Sorry,” apologised Arthur, “he has an inferiority complex and tries to cover it up with inappropriate jokes and witticisms.”
“Ok, I’ll let him off this time. Do you want to go to the human gang or to the dwarf gang?”
“Can we go to the gnome gang?”
“Why do you want to go to the gnome gang? You’re a dwarf not a gnome?”
“Well actually he is not a dwarf, he is a surly giant gnome.”
Sid baulked a little but went along with the deception.
“What have you got in those sacks?” asked the centaur.
“That’s our business,” said Sid.
The centaur grimaced. “Are you sure he’s not a dwarf? He smells like one.”
“And you smell like a horse,” said Sid.
“Why thank you,” said the centaur.
“Just take us to the gnome gang leader,” ordered Arthur.
The centaur led them to the middle of the precinct, “This here is neutral ground, there’s a turf battle going on at the moment between the orcs and the goblins, I don’t know why those two can’t get along together, so this is as far as I’m prepared to take you.”
“Great,
” said Sid, “I hate goblins and orcs, and they hate dwarves.”
“Uh hum, gnomes you mean,” reminded Arthur.
“Giant gnomes,” replied Sid.
“One of the giants will be along in a minute, he’s not afraid of the goblins, he can take you to see Grunkel the boss gnome. Sit down.”
Arthur and Sid sat on some seats near the fountain that no longer worked. They watched the centaur clip clop away.
“When do you think we should get the security robots out?” asked Sid.
“We could wait until we see the gnome boss and find out if he knows where Myxlbat is.”
“But they’re gonna know that I’m not a giant gnome.”
“Just be yourself.”
“What’s that?”
“A grumpy, surly dwarf. We will say we have gnome friends on precinct 19. The centaur is not with us so we do not need to keep the deception up that you are a giant gnome.”
“What’s that?” asked a booming voice, “he’s a giant what?”
Arthur and Sid looked round to see a 12 foot high giant walking a 7 foot high giant by the hand.
“A giant gnome?” offered Arthur.
“He should be in the giant gang with us then,” said the giant. “There are four of us in the gang, including me and my baby boy here, Reginald. My name’s Crusher.”
“Reginald, Crusher,” nodded Arthur.
“He doesn’t look like a gnome, he looks like a dwarf,” noted Reginald.”
“We usually eat gnomes,” said Crusher, “but goblins are in season at the moment. I’ve never eaten a dwarf. What do they taste like?”
“I’ve never tasted one,” replied Sid, “can you take us to see Grunkel?”
“After I do a bit of shopping, I have to get some trainer pants for Reginald from the amenity store. This goblin/orc war has upset his sensibilities. Just wait here till I get back.” Crusher and Reginald walked towards the store.
Sid looked at Arthur, “You and your big mouth, now we are going to have to pretend that I am a giant gnome still.”
“Well it is better than being eaten as part of the new dwarf open season.”
“What happens if he only injures me and I get away?”
“Well, you will be a Red Dwarf for a time, until your wounds heal,” said Arthur.
“That’s a rubbish joke, you could have said, ‘What happens when you put a small man on a sunbed? You get a Red Dwarf.’ Or, ‘What happens when you dress a small man up in a newspaper in a library?’ You get a Read Dwarf. Or…”
“Alright, alright calm down, I admit they were funnier. I must be off my game today.”
“Were you ever on it?” jibed Sid as he and Arthur continued to wait for the giants return.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 7
Sid and Arthur were sitting on the beach, I mean bench, in the neutral part of precinct 13 waiting for a giant and his son to return from getting some training nappies, when, all of a sudden they saw some small black figures. “Ere we go,” whispered Sid to Arthur.
“Smells like a dwarf, I ‘ate dwarfs, they stink like a dwarf,” said one of the goblins who turned his back to Arthur and Sid but inched a little closer.
“What’s that ‘uman doing with the stumpy guy?” asked another.
Sid started to get visibly red in the face as he ground his teeth and fingered his stun pistol in his pocket.
“Calm down Sid,” whispered Arthur, “the giants won’t be long. I hope.”
“Maybe they is married,” said another, “you know dwarf wifes have beards.”
Arthur stood up, “Look here, we are in the neutral area and we are waiting for Crusher to escort us to see the gnome boss.”
The goblins wriggled and writhed back from them a little. “We ain’t doin’ ya no harm mista,” said a goblin nipper.
“Well, see that you don’t,” said Arthur, “we don’t want an upset giant to use you like a toothpick do we.”
“Naw then, what’s you lot doin’ ‘ere,” said an orc and his buddy.”
“We is lookin’ at the dwarf and his mate, bog off you two or we’ll tell on ya to our boss.”
The first orc grimaced, “Just wait till the rumble, I’m gonna spot you out and chew your legs off.”
The goblin he was talking to hid a little behind his mates.
A more intelligent goblin moved forward, “Excuse me old chap, but could you please tell me why goblins always seem to be portrayed as illiterate trouble makers?” he asked Arthur.
“Maybe because intelligent fellows like you are few and far between,” replied Arthur. “Did you go to Oxford or Cambridge?”
“Neither actually I had a home tutor who went to Oxbridge.”
Arthur looked to Sid to see if he understood the inaccuracy of the goblin’s statement but decided he couldn’t score any conceit points in that direction.
As Cruncher and Reginald approached, the orcs and goblins receded to their respective areas.
“Did you get any trainer nappies?” asked Sid.
“No, the maintenance droids are having problems fixing the supply transference machines. They say the machines are having problems getting things from the future. I’ll have to go back later. Come on then, let’s go.” The giants started to walk towards the gnome enclosure.
When they got there they saw a little gnome looking out of an opening in the enclosure. “What do you lot want?” asked the gnome.
“We want to see Grunkel the gnome boss,” said Arthur.
“And who shall I say is calling?”
“Arthur and Sid the giant gnome. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Norman.”
“Norman. What a normal name Norman is for a gnome.”
“He doesn’t look like a giant gnome, he looks like a dwarf.”
“Well actually,” said Arthur, “we have some news from the other gnomes in the other precincts. Do you know Splob?”
“He’s the gnome patriarch, I’ve heard of him. Ok then, I’ll let you in, but no funny business.”
Arthur looked at Sid, “No inappropriate jokes Sid.”
“I’ll try, but temptation might get the better of me,” said Sid as he struggled to control his urge to make a gnome pun.
Arthur looked at the giants, “Thank you Cruncher, Reginald.”
“Anything for a giant gnome,” smiled Cruncher before he and Reginald turned and left.
The door closed behind Sid and Arthur.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 8
Norman led Arthur, who had to bend down, and Sid to the gnome boss’s table, “Boss, these two want to talk to you about the gnome patriarch.”
Gunkel looked up from his cards, “What you looking at?” he asked.
“A royal flush,” replied Sid who had been looking at the boss’s cards.
The boss held his cards close to his chest.
“I must say, you do hold your cards close to your chest,” said Sid.
“Look,” advised Gunkel, “you had better tell me why you are here or I will set my men upon you.”
“Actually,” said Arthur, “we are here on a pretext.”
“Are you talking about something before a text?”
“No, I mean we obfuscated the truth.”
“You should have said context then, seeing as you are a conman.”
“Anyway,” carried on Arthur, “we were deceitful because we need to warn you of a terrible disaster that is about to befall this precinct.”
“Are they going to cut the electric off again?”
“No, the whole of time is being eaten backwards destroying everything.”
“Is that all,” said Gunkel, “that happens nearly every month doesn’t it, when the Interdimensional Police run out of paradox pills.”
Arthur looked at Sid and then back at the boss, “No it does not, in fact it has never happened before.”
“Are you sure? I think I remember one nearly happening about 100 years ago, give or take 10 years.”
&
nbsp; “I don’t know about that, I was asleep.”
“Asleep, who could sleep through a backwards eating timewave?”
“He could, seeing as he was asleep for the best part of 1,500 years,” interjected Sid.
“Rip Van Winkle eh?”
“No, King Arthur,” said Arthur.
“Never heard of you, anyway, what am I supposed to do about this backward eating timewave?”
“Have you heard of Myxlbat?”
“Yes, why?”
“It is he who has caused the giant anomaly that will eat the whole of time.”
“Are you sure? I’ve never quite believed that the whole of time could be eaten. Are you sure the Author’s got it right?”
“Erm, yes, I think so.”
“So which time travel theory is he using? Grandfather Paradox, timeline protection hypothesis, Novikov self-consistency principle, branching universe hypothesis or timeline corruption?”
“I do not know. Do you want to ask him?”
“Is he around? He doesn’t usually pop in on precinct 13 too much.”
“Yes I’m here, the theory is a bit of the Blinovitch limitation effect…”
“That’s from Dr. Who.”
“Yes, but I nullify that with the Novikov compensator by using paradox pills.”
“And how do they work?”
“Very well thank you. And the other part is sort of Time Cop 1 changing timelines that are policed by the Interdimensional Police Force to stop any harmful paradoxes or catastrophic time events.”
“I bet you got that time travel theory list from Wikipedia.”
“I might of.”
“Anyway,” said Arthur, “now you know the whole of time can be eaten backwards will you help us?”
“You have to do something for us.”
“Alright, what?”
“We are sick of living here because of our quite rather minor crimes. In comparison to having the whole of time eaten by a timewave they are very minor indeed. We demand that after you catch Myxlbat that we be released back to our proper dimensions.”
“I think I can give you that promise. A verbal contract won’t be worth the paper it’s written on tomorrow, anyway.”
“Ok, he’s hiding in that cupboard,” the gnome boss pointed to a wooden cupboard that wobbled slightly then flashed from within. When Arthur and Sid looked inside it was empty.
“Quick,” said Arthur, “we can follow the resonance of his decaying signal.”
Sid turned his dials, “1982, New York, romance dimension, let’s go.”