Arthur twiddled his dials and both he and Sid disappeared.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 9
Yellow cabs, steaming grates, pedestrians, tall buildings. New York 1982. A gnome, wearing bat ears and clamping a plastic cigar between his teeth, ducked in and out of the traffic, looking for a subway. Just behind him a grumpy dwarf in chainmail and a king of the Britons.
“Stop, you time degenerate,” cried the dwarf.
The gnome hid behind a trash can (dustbin to those people living in the UK), drew out his disruptor and shot at the king, hitting his crown. One of his bobbles fell off. “Great,” moaned Arthur, “my second best crown, ruined.” He bobbed behind a yellow cab that was stuck in a traffic jam, the kind you see in films like ‘Die Hard.’ Arthur took aim with his stun pistol.
“Hey,” said Sid, “this reminds me of Dirty Harry, ‘Do you feel lucky, punk?’”
Arthur took a shot with his stun pistol, “So we’re doing cop film quotes now are we?” He thought for a moment, “Go ahead, make my day.”
Myxlbat fired back and hit the taxi’s wing mirror.
“That wasn’t nice,” said Sid, “I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
“That’s not a cop movie quote.”
“I like gangster films as well.”
“Oh well then if we’re going to open it up a little then, ‘Say hello to my little friend.’”
“You talkin’ to me?” shouted Myxlbat.
“Great,” wittered Arthur, “he’s playing now.”
“You can’t handle the truth!” Sid spat back.
“You just looked down the list of AFI's 100 Years of 100 Movie Quotes list on Wikipedia,” yelled Myxlbat.
“You know I do think he’s right,” thought Arthur.
“Snap out of it,” said Sid.
Myxlbat went to town on the taxi, “Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy night.”
“You do know Sid I think he is quite good at this game.”
Sid stood up rolled towards a news stand and screamed, “Well here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into.” He missed Myxlbat but hit a crouching passerby who fell onto the dangerous gnome. The Gnome lost his disruptor under the car he was hiding behind.
The evil short person tried to grab for his weapon but saw Sid rounding on him. “Hasta la vista baby,” shouted Myxlbat as he twiddled the dials on his stolen IWT and vanished.
The taxi driver got out of his cab and looked at the damage to his taxi, “Who’s going to pay for this?”
“I’ll be back,” boomed Arthur as he and Sid followed Myxlbat into the time stream.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 10
Meanwhile back on precinct 1, Lebil and Danish are using security robots to look for gnomes. “Have you found any yet?” asked the Main Processor.
“No,” said Lebil.
“Poor old cowboy/detective dimension,” said the Main Processor.
“It is bigger than that,” said Danish, “the whole of time is going to be eaten backwards, affecting all of the 7 dimensions.”
“Oh dear,” said the Main Processor, “so do you think this thing is bigger than Mxylbat?”
“Everything is bigger than Myxlbat, after all he is a gnome.”
“We did meet somebody from the time war of 2036,” said Lebil.
“What did she tell you?”
“Nothing, we closed our ears and sent her straight to precinct 13.”
“But precinct 13 is for minor infractions of the time code. You are supposed to go backward or forward in time to deal with paradoxes or anomalies to the time line that can cause adverse time events.”
“We never saw it coming, it just started happening.”
“It was like it happened outside of our time,” said Danish, “as though it happened in non-space, here on the precincts. Then we found out by chance that Myxlbat had been near a time anomaly we couldn’t explain.”
“A transverse time wobble? A Ninitov paradox?”
“No, how England had won the World Cup in 2004.”
“But the world cup was in 2002 or 2006?”
“That was the anomaly.”
Just then one of the small security robots came in carrying a gnome. “Let me go, let me go,” squeaked the gnome.
From the size of the gnome Danish assumed it to be a child, “Calm down son, we will let you go if you answer us a few questions.”
“You inty cops don’t have no authority here.”
“But I do,” chimed the Main Processor.
The gnome folded his arms and pursed his lips.
“It is for the good of all the dimensions and precincts that we want to ask you these questions,” said Danish.
The gnome turned his head.
“Would you like a sweetie,” said Lebil as he offered the gnome a fruit bon bon.
“Trying the good time cop bad time cop routine on me are you?” said the gnome as he grabbed the sweet, unwrapped it and stuffed it greedily into his mouth.
“Just tell us your name.”
“Izzy.”
“Is he Izzy?” asked the Main Processor.
“He says he’s Izzy,” said Danish.
“Unless he’s got the same name as another gnome.” Said Lebil.
“Has he?”
“Who?”
“Izzy, has he?”
“Has he, Izzy, is he, confusing me?” warbled Danish quizzicly.
“You’re even confusing me,” said Izzy. “Ok, that sweet was nice, what else do you want to know?”
“We want to know where Myxlbat is,” asked Danish.
“He’s not here, he is usually on precinct 13, he is the son of a gnome time criminal.”
“Well that explains why our sensors never picked him up,” said Lebil.
“He has been hacking into the alternate personality subroutines of the Main Processor.”
“Oh dear,” groaned the Main Processor, “compromised.”
“Why has he been doing that?” inquired Danish.
“He is trying to free all of the time criminals of precinct 13.”
“One thing I must ask,” said Lebil, “is how come there are gnomes on all the precincts?”
“Splob, our patriarch, was able to use maintenance subroutines to move from precinct to precinct. Myxlbat’s father caught him for a while and made him teach Myxlebat how to hack into the local console for the Main Processor. Splob managed to escape back to precinct 19.”
“Well that sounds quite logical, like the author has thought about it and tried to tie up all the loose ends and continuity errors that were creeping in. Ok Izzy, we’ll let you go.” Lebil looked at the security robot, “Release the gnome.”To which Izzy landed on the floor with a bump and scooted off.
“Bye Izzy,” called Danish. He looked at Lebil. “Can I see you in private?” They both walked to a pneuma lift and got in. The music was Tom’s Diner by Suzanne Vega.
Danish whispered, “I think the Main Processor has been more greatly compromised than it thinks.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Well it knew that the time criminal we captured was a woman, it called her she, before I told it that we sent her to precinct 13.”
“I see what you mean. How are we going to deal with this?”
“We may have to shut it down and do a reinstall.”
Just then the pneuma lift stopped between floors. Lebil and Danish banged on the doors. Lebil sank to the floor, “I don’t believe it. That means we will have to stay in the lift until the author writes the next part!”
The Time Backwater, The Time War 11
“Yawn,” yawned Lebil as he roused himself, “I can’t believe he’s left us in this predicament over the weekend!”
“We could have used our IWT’s any time we wanted,” commented Danish.
So they both twiddled the dials on their IWT’s, but there was just a fizzle.
“I don’t believe it,” moaned Lebil, “the Main Processo
r has put an anti-time travel field around the pneuma lift. We’re stuck.”
Just then, as if it had been planned by the Author, a gnome popped her head up, pressed a button on a keypad. The lift went down to the previous floor and the doors opened.
“Why, thank you for the rescue,” said Danish.
“Yes thanks,” agreed Lebil.
“Come quick,” she said as she led the way towards an open access port. When they had all entered she closed a panel behind them. The two men had to crawl behind the female gnome who just dipped her head slightly in the small space. She led them into a space filled with optic cables. At one point she parted the cables and led them into a space large enough for them to stand up. “This is a meeting room, my name is Fayebaloo, I was sent to rescue you by the gnome patriarch Splob.”
“Ok,” said Danish, “what do we do now?”
“I don’t know really,” said Fayebaloo, “I was leaving that up to the Author.”
“Never mind about him,” flibbled Lebil, “he’s a flibbler.”
“Pardon?” questioned Fayebaloo.
“I don’t know what that is, he made me say it.”
Danish peered at Fayebaloo, “Have you gnomes got anything that could disengage the anti-time travel field?”
“Seeing as an anti-time travel field was only just invented by the author as a plot device to explain why you did not use your Interdimensional Wrist Transporters over the weekend, no.” But just after she said this she felt a tingly sensation emanating from one of her pocketsies. “Ooer,” she cried, “I felt a tingly sensation emanating from one of my pocketsies.”
“Here we go again,” said Lebil, “a LOTR reference to keep the fantasy crowd interested.”
She pulled a small device from her pocketsies, “Well I never, look what it says here, ‘Press to disengage the anti-time travel field (created as a plot device by the Author)’.” Using her right index finger she pushed the button, nothing seemed to happen.
“Well nothing seems to have happened,” gesticulated Lebil.
“Let’s test our IWT’s anyway,” suggested Danish.
They both twiddled their dials and vanished.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 12
Sid and Arthur appeared in a small copse outside the village of Bastogne in the war dimension in 1944, (really it was 2011, but you have to read the 4th book to discover why.)
“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Quoted Sid.
“Are you still on movie quotes,” asked Arthur, “that was last week sometime.”
“In our reality it was only a few seconds ago.”
“Do you think the readers will realise that?”
“They’ll have to read part 9 of The Time Backwater, The Time War a #flashfiction #shortstory advertising ‘The Crying Pennant’ again if they are confused.”
“It is like a kind of time travel is it not?”
“What?”
“Reading books.”
“I suppose it is, we travel to the future very slowly by ageing but can only get to the past via books, films and archaeology.”
“When you said we, you meant the readers did you not, seeing as we can time travel?”
“Of course, now let’s find Myxlbat.” Just as he said that a German shell landed near their position knocking Arthur and Sid off their feet.
“That was a blast from the past, if you get my meaning,” uttered Sid.
“Gug,” gugged Arthur.
“Ooooooh noooooo,” noted Sid, “he’s gone and lost his marbles again.” This time he spoke to the Author,” How am aye gonna catch Myxlebat now or have a witty conversation on me own, Author?”
“You’ll have to cope for now,” said I.
“Come on then old chap,” said Sid as he led Arthur towards the Allied lines.
“Gug,” burbled Arthur as he followed Sid.
“Very witty Arthur, ha ha.”
When they got to the broken and battered front lines of the Allies they were greeted by a British soldier of the XXX Corps.
“Howdy doody.”
“Hi,” said Sid, “I thought this section of the line was being held by the 101st Airborne?”
“It is, we were just visiting, that’s all.”
“So nothing like Band of Brothers then?
“Sorry, I don’t understand what you mean, you had better get in my trench, in case the Jerries want to send another few shells over with their nebelwerfers.”
“Bless you,” said Sid.
“Gug,” said Arthur.
“Thank you. In shell shock is he?” inquired the soldier.
“Yup.”
“We were next to the Yanks in the battle line, brought some supplies over, then got caught in the fight.”
“What’s your name?”
“Gug.”
“Not you Arthur,” said Sid.
“Charlie Fox.”
“That would have been funny, Charlie Fox in a foxhole, but you called it a trench.”
“What are you doing here anyway? You seem to be strangely dressed?”
“Gug.”
“He was speaking to me Arthur, seeing as you are a one word wonder at the moment.” He looked back at Charlie, “we are time travellers looking for a time criminal called Myxlbat who has caused a catastrophic event in the timeline creating a timewave that will eat all of time, backwards.”
“Oh is that all, I thought you were going to say you were here to relieve us.”
“Gug,” said Arthur as another shell from a nebelwerfer came down on their position.
The Time Backwater, The Time War 13
“Gug,” gugged Sid.
“What is the matter with him?” asked Arthur.
“I think he’s bomb happy,” said Charlie Fox.
“Hah, I’m just messin’,” said Sid, “good job I have my dwarven steel helm on, or I would be.”
“So have you seen this gnome fellow Charlie?” inquired Arthur.
“I did see a little figure about a minute before I saw you. I thought it was a child, except that it was smoking a cigar and had a beard.”
“That is Myxlbat, where did he go?”
“Oh, he mysteriously vanished in the same way that he had mysteriously appeared.”
“Great,” said Arthur, “double switcheroo, I wonder if we can still get a fix on his resonant evil.”
“Resonant time stream signal,” corrected Sid.
“Sorry, I made a joke without realising it.”
“I think that’s when you’re at your funniest, when you don’t realise. When you try you’re rubbish. By the way it’s Resident Evil not resonant evil.”
“Cheeky,” warned Arthur, then, “we need to get back to that first shell crater, see if we can get a fix.”
“No drugs here,” said Charlie, “this is a clean outfit.”
“No,” said Arthur as he rolled his eyes, rather rudely in fact, “I mean try to find his time signature.”
“He didn’t sign anything,” said Charlie.
“What year is this?”
“1944.”
“Has the Timewarped Timelord broken the timewarp here yet?”
“Don’t know what you mean?”
“Never mind, just get us over to that hole.”
“The Germans are making an offensive at the moment.”
“Well that’s offensive,” announced Sid.
“You’ll have to wait,” said Charlie.
“If we do the whole of time will stop existing.”
“You’d better go then. I’ll give you some cover. Good luck.”
Sid and Arthur ran as fast as they could towards the crater where they had nearly been hit the first time. A German soldier pointed his Gewehr 35 at them. Sid shot him with his stun pistol.”
“That stunned him,” said Arthur.
They both bobbed down in the small crater. Arthur twiddled his dials and Sid took a defensive position.
“Have it,” exclaimed Arthur, “the En
glish Civil War 1645, horror dimension.”
“Great,” moaned Sid, “I hope we don’t get burned as witches.”
“We will probably get burned by witches there,” Arthur quipped as he and Sid dialled their IWT’s to go. Just before another shell from a nebelwerfer fell on the same crater.
The Time Backwater, The Time war 14
Xanadu, 1996, Lebil and Danish arrive from precinct 1.
“Hello Lebil,” said Lebil.
“Hello Danish,” said Danish.
“We have come from the time war…” said the Danish of the future who we will now call Danish 2.
“Uh uh uh,” shook headed Danish 1, “don’t say it. Have you taken your paradox pills?”
“No we forgot,” said the Lebil from the future who we will now call Lebil 1.
“Why are you calling me Danish 2 and my Lebil, Lebil 1,” asked Danish 2 of the author.
“Sorry, shall I call you both 1 or 2,” said I.
“1,” said Danish 2 now renamed Danish 1.
“2,” said Danish 1 now renamed Danish 2.
“You have to decide Author,” said Lebil 1 or 2.
“Ok,” said I, “the two from the future can be the 1s and the two from the past can be 2s.”
“Not fair,” said the newly renamed Danish 2.”
“Well, story wise, you are around second,” explained the author. “But timeline wise you were around first.”
“And?” asked Lebil 2.
“And I’ve decided, so get on with it,” ordered I.
“Well,” huffed Danish 2, “it’s a good job we took some earlier.
“What?” inquired Danish 1.
“Paradox pills, it is a good job we took some earlier. Stopping a double headed Danish or an exploding universe.”
“That doesn’t matter anyway,” chipped in Lebil 1.
“Really, why?”
“You told us you didn’t want us to tell you about the time war.”
“We don’t.”
Danish 1 looked around wanting to speak to the Author, “Now look here Author, this is a bit silly. All of time is going to be eaten backwards and we can’t speak to these two 2s about it because it may cause a traumatic time event, which is already happening.”
Lebil 2 and Danish 2 uncovered their ears and stopped humming.
Danish 1 carried on, “It is you who has made up the rules of time travel for these dimensions and what makes a traumatic time event.”
“How do you know?” asked I.
“Oh.”
“Seeing as you have made the rules up surely you can bend them a little, so that we can tell the 2s what’s happening.”