The Wabbit dived for the ledge as an oncoming portal sped towards the team. There was an apologetic bang, but no doubt of the result. Quark plasma disks emerged in number and when they hit the tunnel, they began to spin fast. The Wabbit brought his stick down hard and yelled, "Drop the web." But the web didn't hold. Disks sliced through the tough weave and continued along the path of the decelerator. Lapinette dived for cover behind the ice floe. But the ice floe turned blue and began to melt - so she rolled across the track and quickly joined the Wabbit. "What's that? Do you know?" "That is the opposite of our ice floe," said the Wabbit; "It's a quark plasma stack." Waves of heat assaulted Lapinette's ears. The disks were sharp and silent. When they hit the side of tunnel, they lodged there, still spinning. Walls became soft, but held their form. Neither solid nor gas nor liquid, they hung in a plasma curtain. The ground vibrated. The Wabbit and Lapinette felt the tracks undulating beneath their feet. They were plasma too. Cautiously the Wabbit poked the plasma with his stick. Everything stopped. Disks dropped from walls. The ice floe reverted to arctic white. The tunnel restabilised. "Looks like that's all we get," murmured the Wabbit. He picked up a disk and polished it with his fur. "Think there's a tune on it?"
Friday, August 18, 2017
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
19. The Wabbit and the State of Matter
Deep in the mountains lay an important and very secret installation. At the Wabbit's behest, the Department of Wabbit Affairs built a particle decelerator - and allowed the Wabbit to modify it. "It needs to be straight on the rails," yelled the Wabbit, waving his stick. The red spiders patiently adjusted the ice floe. Measurements indicated it wasn't really cold, but it felt as if it was. Lapinette adjusted the timer carefully and said - as she always did at this juncture - "Do you think this will work?" "I tried it using a vase," said the Wabbit. Lapinette's face was a question. The Wabbit looked up in triumph. "All the bits came back!" "Bits?" He hesitated. "Powdery bits." "Ready when you are," called Marshall Duetta. The Wabbit stepped away from the track and lifted his stick. "On my mark." Lapinette activated the decelerator. Nothing appeared to happen. But the Wabbit knew the ice floe had been and gone and come back. An ozone smell wafted through air and sounds of sizzling like frying sausages. "It's different," said Duetta. She tapped the floe lightly with a leg. A hollow sound echoed through the tunnel. "Stand back," said the Wabbit. He raised his stick. Lapinette re-activated the device. Again, nothing seemed to change. But Duetta rattled her legs. "It's come back exactly the way it was." "The Wabbit pointed his stick down the tunnel. "Then what's that over there ..?"
Monday, August 14, 2017
18. The Wabbit and the Aftermath
Friday, August 11, 2017
17. The Wabbit and the Night Tripper
Susan the Biplane lifted them from the bridge
with the ease of a cargo hoist. It was a timely intervention. Saucers came from
all directions firing green lightning that singed their ears. “They’re
everywhere, Commander,” said Susan, “All over the city.” Lapinette clung onto a
strut to lean out and back as Susan swooped from left to right. “Good thing you
did that sidecar racing course,” muttered the Wabbit. Lapinette’s lean was quite impossible. She
treated gravity like a toy and her merry dance on the wing was a tour de force.
“Hold tight," said Susan. She stood on a wingtip, hung for an instant, then
dived abruptly to the ground. Lightning blasts glanced past as she looped the
loop and circled back. A following saucer didn’t quite make it and buried
itself in a railway siding. Another that was right behind suffered the same
fate. But there were more and more saucers. Susan buzzed two craft who’s crew
became so disorientated they crashed their vessels into each other. Shards of
fuselage littered the railway. Three craft
hit power pylons and exploded. One dropped from the sky without warning and as
it landed, its lights flickered and died. Lapinette heard singing above the roar of the engine. It was the Wabbit singing into his walkie talkie. “We are the champions, we are the champions!”
Wednesday, August 09, 2017
16. The Wabbit and the Big Drop
Monday, August 07, 2017
15. The Wabbit and the Mice's Ice
Friday, August 04, 2017
The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè
The Wabbit threw a book on the table. "I found it." Lapinette was agog. "It's practically unobtainable." Skratch the Cat bore down on the group flaunting his new t-shirt, but he spotted the book and let out a long haunting meaow. "Where? How?" The Wabbit grinned and shook his head. "That, I may not reveal. But it's yours now." "A Theory of Musical Semiotics," he chortled; "I'll quote that for years." A fresh breeze ruffled the pages. A faint tune rose and died away. Lapinette took the opportunity to ask the question. "What kind of adventure are we having?" Skratch blinked in a way that only a cat could achieve. "I wouldn't dare criticise a project in progress." "That's Sartre," said Lapinette. The Wabbit tapped the table with a firm paw. "Less methodology, more entertainment." Skratch tapped his chest. "I suggest water is invariably the site of conflict. In cinema, it mobilises a dramatic and conflicted discourse as fluid and changing as water itself." It was Wabsworth's turn to contribute." "This is about the content of water, not its shape. It's somethingness is the issue." The arcade was hot. A welcome breeze brought a change in temperature, prompting Skratch to sweep his paws across his ears. "Something in the air. Something strange." The Wabbit rose. "Time to rock n'roll..."
Wednesday, August 02, 2017
14. The Wabbit and the Ice that Wasn't
Back on earth, things were cool. But not that cool. Marshall Duetta's spiders brought as many as the ice floes they could capture and the Wabbit felt he should supervise. "Front legs down a bit, back legs up a bit." Marshall Duetta rattled all her legs. "Leave the capturing to us." The Wabbit shrugged. "What do you think, Wabsworth? Should we break the ice?" Wabsworth was the Wabbit's android double but was his own android nonetheless. "It won't break. It's not our kind of ice." The day blistered in the sun and the Wabbit felt hot and bothered. The floes promised refreshing coolness but steadfastly refused to melt. "Take them to the North Pole," suggested Wabsworth; "It could use some more." Lapinette thought that was a good idea. She leaned from a metal tower. "Global warming won't melt these in a million years." Wabsworth smiled and activated his sensors to make a brief analysis. "High pressure. Variable density. The molecular structure is a cube lattice weave. And there's something else I can't determine." A floe crashed to the ground but hardly made a sound. Then another. A wall of unyielding ice grew long and high. The Wabbit hissed. "The Ice Mice know about the something else. They usually do." "Then they'll be here soon," said Duetta. The Wabbit flashed all of his 28 teeth. "Post sentries," he muttered; "Everyone else take five for cold drinks."
Monday, July 31, 2017
13. The Wabbit and the Space Kaboom
Friday, July 28, 2017
12. The Wabbit and the Broken Saucer
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
11. The Wabbit and the Liquid Moon
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
10. The Wabbit and the Place of Water
In the dining car of Quantum the Train, the Wabbit fiddled with Device A119. It was rather old fashioned and had seen better days. But it worked. Space Traveller looked out into deep space and worried. "Does he know what he's doing?" Lapinette shrugged. "Maybe." The Wabbit ignored all this. He continued to poke inside the device and hummed gently. "Is that you or the device?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit hummed a different note, then another. Suddenly Device A119 spoke. "Up a bit and to the left." "Your left or my left?" sighed the Wabbit. "Right paw up a bit until you find the red capacitor." There was a flash. "Ouch," said the Wabbit. "Spot on," said the device; "You have control." The Wabbit sighed again. "Control of what?" "Me," said the device. "Can I have a salad sandwich?" said the Wabbit. "I can promise a panino in due course," replied the device; "but I have to find it first." Lapinette laughed and signalled the kitchens. "What was your function?" continued the Wabbit. "To find water in the moon," said the device. The Wabbit probed with his screwdriver and murmured, "What was the outcome of your search?" The device played a soothing snatch of Cool Water. "I'll take that as a yes," said the Wabbit; "so who did you inform?" "No-one," responded the device; "I have no instructions to tell anyone." An audible gasp shook the dining car. "It was forgotten," said the Device. "That doesn't hold water," grinned the Wabbit.
Friday, July 21, 2017
9. The Wabbit and the Lost Performers
Torrential rain lashed at the Wabbit's fur. The Agents were looking at something and the Wabbit knew what it was. It whistled and sang, it chirped and warbled. Then under the light of a mystifying moon, the Agents began to dance. Space Traveller pitched his green ears. "What is that?" The Wabbit plucked his walkie talkie from his fur. "I forgot about Device A119. It's a droid." He changed frequency and whispered urgently. "Command Line 76. Execute Bootstrap. Information Protocol 119." His radio crackled and whined. "Hello, hello, hello hello." "The Wabbit had an idea. He whispered again. "Device A119, please accept my requests." The Wabbit listed a series of obscure novelty chart-toppers. The Agents danced in circles and made jazz paws in the rain, oblivious to anything but the heterodyne whine of Device A119. "That's ghastly," said Space Traveller, making a futile attempt to cover his ears. The Wabbit spat out a list of performers known for execrable one-hit wonders. Device A119 played them all. "I can take no more," sighed Space Traveller. "Wait," smiled the Wabbit. The Agents whirled to left and right, then sank exhausted to the ground. The rain stopped. Silence fell. The Wabbit hopped forward and retrieved the device. Then he grabbed onto Space Traveller and grinned, "Let's fade away." And they did.
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
8. The Wabbit and the Cynical Switch
The Wabbit felt strange to be an Agent of Rabit, but Space Traveller seemed to be enjoying himself. They wiggled their pointy ears and practiced snickering just like Agents. "Get these gophers," sneered the Wabbit. "Scrag their scroggles!" said Space Traveller, a bit too loud. Suddenly there were three agents throwing out their chests and snivelling. "Who are you?" they shouted. The Wabbit looked over the wall. "We're new." "We just got here," added Space Traveller. "No-one said you were coming," said an Agent. "Last minute thing," smiled the Wabbit; "In consequence, we are hopelessly raw and don't know our asses from our elbows." Another Agent shook with annoyance. "It's always the same when we need help." "But we're so cute," simpered the Wabbit. The three Agents huddled, then emerged to address the pair. "There was one interloper. Now there are two." "I can see them," said the Wabbit. "Where?" sneered the Agents. "Over there," said Space Traveller; "You can make out their ears." The Agents became agitated. "We can't see them." The Wabbit pointed to his glasses. "Special spectacles." Space Traveller tapped his. "Wearable specnology." "Yes, I see ears on the horizon," exclaimed an Agent. "Best follow them," suggested the Wabbit. "Keep your own ears to the ground," advised Space Traveller." The Agents made off at speed and disappeared. "We'll look after your stuff," shouted the Wabbit.
Monday, July 17, 2017
7. The Wabbit & the Planet of the Voles
Quantum dropped them off. The planet looked pretty much as the Wabbit had left it, but something wasn't right. The sky darkened and rain fell. Drops prickled the Wabbit's fur. "Acid rain," murmured the Wabbit. "Usually this is when the voles come, remember?" said Space Traveller. The Wabbit recalled his story of the voles with a chuckle. "I made all that up." Lightning flashed. The Wabbit plucked his walkie talkie from his fur, but it crackled aimlessly. A long way above, Quantum the Time Travelling Train wheeled and departed. "I do think we have trouble," sighed the Wabbit. "There they are, the voles," shrugged the Time Traveller; "They're most unpleasant." The Wabbit stared straight ahead. "They're not normal voles." The Space Traveller shuddered. "Voles should stay in their holes." The Wabbit fished around in his fur for ideas. "I'm truly sorry I left you with the voles." Damp droplets turned to lashing rain. The Wabbit tucked his radio away. "It's an off-planet platoon of the Agents of Rabit. Our sworn enemy." The Wabbit hissed harshly but Space Traveller brightened up. "Let's give them a thrashing." Agents charged over the brow of the hill, snickering as they closed on their prey. "Grab onto me," said the Traveller; "We'll give them the round run." The Wabbit did as he was told. With a grimace and a shudder the Traveller began to change. And so did the Wabbit ..
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