4. The Wabbit and the Window of Nine

"This is like breathing cotton wool," spluttered the Wabbit. "This is my Cloud in Time saves Nine algorithm," said Wabsworth. Mist swirled round his paw as he carefully adjusted the hands of the clock. "So is there anything you want to keep in the Cloud!" he asked. The Wabbit looked puzzled. "Before time gets to Nine," explained Wabsworth. "What happens after Nine?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth made another adjustment. "It's more expensive," he shrugged. The Wabbit shivered. "More expensive than what?" He was even more irritated than usual since he was very cold. He leaned against the wall because there was warmth there. "Than it would cost you before Nine," continued Wabsworth. The Wabbit nodded, but he still had no clue. "So is there anything you want to store there?" Wabsworth voice was pressing. "Such as?" shrugged the Wabbit. "Information." said Wabsworth. The Wabbit thought hard. "Like all the soccer results ever?" Wabsworth shook his head back and forth. "Oh that will cost you." "Not before Nine!" said the Wabbit quickly. "OK then," nodded Wabsworth. Now the Wabbit shook his head sadly. "But I haven't got them with me." Clouds of mist swirled round the clock as Wabsworth pushed the hands close to Nine o'clock and murmured, "You might be able to get them from somebody else's Cloud." "What will that cost me?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth pushed the clock hands ever closer to Nine. "It will cost you five minutes." "Time is short," groaned the Wabbit. "So is money," answered Wabsworth.

3. The Wabbit and the Wind Window

"You said absurdity," said Wabsworth. "I did nothing of the sort," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth ignored him and exclaimed, "This is the wind window and you get a great point of view with extra special effects." The Wabbit's ears flattened as the wind tore at his fur. "Are we really in a small plane with no windscreen?" "Virtual reality," said Wabsworth. "We're quite close to that building," warned the Wabbit. "Nothing but pixels," said Wabsworth. "What are we sitting on then?" asked the Wabbit. "Pixels," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit's stomach rumbled. "Got anything to eat?" he asked. Wabsworth took a salad sandwich from under the seat. The Wabbit grabbed it and tore at it frantically with his teeth. "It's not very tasty," he grumbled. "Pixels," said Wabsworth. "It's like cardboard and lubricant," complained the Wabbit. "I did my best," responded Wabsworth. "Well, at least it's not raining," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth pressed a switch on the instrument panel and a spray of minute particles hit the Wabbit's face. "Pixels?" asked the Wabbit. "I worked hard on that one," said Wabsworth. Now the Wabbit was existentially tired. "Where and when will we land?" he snapped. "I never got to that," said Wabsworth. "I'm expressly feeling a state of angst," moaned the Wabbit. "Excellent!" shouted Wabsworth. He reached under his fur and pressed something. The plane disappeared and they seemed to hang in space. "How do you feel now?" he asked. "My self is authentically irritated," gasped the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Wet Window

Wabsworth became completely still and the Wabbit looked over his shoulder in case anything was wrong. "Nothing's wrong," said Wabsworth. "I just changed your point of view." The Wabbit put his paw out just in case his fur was wet. But it was bone dry. "I've been experimenting with virtual reality," said Wabsworth. "Good wheeze," shrugged the Wabbit; "So what about some water?" Wabsworth's circuits whirred momentarily. The air became distinctly damp. "That's as far as I got there," apologised Wabsworth. He paused. "It gives you a point of view change in the physical sense, but not in the existential sense." The Wabbit breathed a sigh of relief.  "OK, I had enough wet for now." "I'll turn it off," said Wabsworth. His circuits whirred again but nothing happened. Wabsworth made several unsuccessful attempts. "We're stuck in the rain," grumbled Wabsworth. "Maybe we should sing," quipped the Wabbit. They sang several verses of Singing in the Rain but the wet was still with them. "Maybe the desert will work," said Wabsworth. His circuits whirred alarmingly and there was smell of burning metal. Now it was very hot but the wet remained. "This is like Panama when the rain stops," moaned the Wabbit. "I'm still in the trial stage," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit nodded gravely. "We could try an existentialist change," suggested Wabsworth. The Wabbit shook his head vigorously but Wabsworth pretended not to notice. "Angst or absurdity," queried Wabsworth. "I already do both," groaned the Wabbit.

1. The Wabbit and his Point of View

Wabsworth bumped into the Wabbit by a corridor window in the Department of Wabbit Affairs.  Wabsworth started as an exact android copy of the Wabbit - but time had elapsed. Now he was very much his own android and knew all the Wabbit's faces. Some of them Wabsworth was born with, some of them he'd copied and some of them he'd adapted. But this was an expression he couldn't do a thing with. "Penny for them?" he asked, touching the Wabbit's shoulder. He tried to hide a smile but the Wabbit half grinned. "I'm looking for a window of opportunity." Wabsworth shrugged and then turned theatrically to squint out the window. "They should replace this glass." The Wabbit was horrified. "It's sixteenth century!"  Wabsworth looked again and nodded gravely. "Yes, yes of course. It does offer a different perspective." With their noses pressed to glass they both squinted out. A few moments elapsed. "Can't make out a thing," said the Wabbit. "Neither can I," said Wabsworth.  The Wabbit shook his head like a donkey and murmured; "Now I can see your point of view." They stood in silence for a while. Voices echoed in the corridor. Traffic noise found its way through the glass. "Maybe I lost my point of view," said the Wabbit. "Maybe it's only mislaid," commented Wabsworth. "Maybe it's gone forever," answered the Wabbit. Wabsworth's processors searched quietly and then he poked the Wabbit in the ribs. "Maybe I still have a copy."

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered at the Safe House. It was medieval and seemed the most appropriate place. Skratch was well in character, purring and waving both paws at the table for attention. "Ariel, bring a corollary rather than want a spirit!" "Oooh, am I Ariel?" Lapinette lips puckered and she made a pert face. "You're Miranda," said Wabsworth, "and since I am closest, I must be Ariel." "I'm not sure who I am," murmured the Wabbit. Lapinette laughed. "Don't be so stodgy, Wabbit. Maybe you're the rainbow-bearing messenger sent by Juno." Now the Wabbit cheered up. "Then I'll get the drinks in!" He made to get up for the kitchen, but Skratch stopped him. "First Wabbit, tell us what was that for a sort of Adventure." "Postmodern," shrugged the Wabbit. "He says that about everything," laughed Lapinette. "It was a pastiche of two forms, the latter an adaptation of the former," said Wabsworth. "That is indeed postmodern." Wabsworth's voice was firm. He glanced at the kitchens and held up a paw. Four drinks arrived. The Wabbit grinned and sat down. "It's sour wine and mead, flavoured with honey," smiled Wabsworth. The Wabbit rose again and disappeared to the kitchen. "It's prosecco," whispered Wabsworth. They all laughed as the Wabbit returned with four glasses which he placed on the table. The Wabbit winked at Wabsworth, tossed back his drink and smacked his lips. "Cool clear water!"
["Ariel, bring a corollary rather than want a spirit!" Corollary: The Tempest. Act 4 Scene 1.  a redundancy, a supplement. ]

9. The Wabbit and the Dream Manifest

"Wabbit, Wabbit! Wake up!" The Wabbit had been asleep for some time. His eyes were glazed and his mumbling incoherent. Lapinette shook him. He snored heavily. His chuntering at the end of each snore shook the papers on the desk. Lapinette leaned to hear. "Full fathom five, the Wabbit lies." murmured the Wabbit. Lapinette shook him more vigorously. He started to growl. "Be not afeard, the isle of full of robots." He sat up suddenly and looked around but just as quickly lapsed into sleep. Lapinette gave him a vicious dig in the ribs. "Ah woo, hoo," spluttered the Wabbit. His mouth tasted of brine so he scowled and complained. "I'm all pins and needles. It was the icy water." Lapinette folded her paws. "Wabbit! Have you been drinking?" The Wabbit shook his head. "I was rescued from a moving island." "You were snoring," said Lapinette. "Who me?" said the Wabbit, "I never snore." "Yes, you make enormous snores," said Lapinette, "and there's meaning in them." The Wabbit considered for a moment, then lifted the page of the Tempest that had fallen from the tome. Lapinette looked at it and smiled. "So did you find your inner self?" The Wabbit looked rueful and shrugged. "Nearly."

8. The Wabbit and the Savage Waves

A storm forced the Unut to move away from the island and the Wabbit was cut off. The island was still moving and massive rocks smashed together like gravel in a mixer. The sea rose above the Wabbit's legs. There was only one thing to do. "I have to swim for it," thought the Wabbit. He hadn't a clue where "it" was, but he dived in and started to swim like marsh rabbit. The water was icy and quickly numbed every bone in his body. His brain swam. He began to see a hazy picture of himself on a beach on the Caribbean eating a salad sandwich. The picture cleared and he spotted a waiter dressed as a plesiosaur arriving with beer. The waiter shouted something again and again. He strained to hear it. "Wabbit, Wabbit. Wake up!" Spray hit his head. He blinked water from his eyes and clung onto the waves. "Nessie!" he spluttered. The Wabbit coughed sea from his lungs as he lunged onto a large breaker that rose to meet Nessie's mouth. Now he was hanging by his fur from Nessie's teeth. "Hold yer nose," said Nessie with a muffled voice. The plesiosaur plunge took the Wabbit by surprise. Water rushed past at an alarming rate - then he burst from the surface of calm waters. The Lepus and the Unut floated on a mirror of antique blue. "My ships came in," murmured the Wabbit as he passed out.

7.The Wabbit and the Uncertain Welcome

An inner voice told the Wabbit to venture alone to the final island. He hopped from rock to rock across the brine, looking into every crevice, until he heard a voice calling from the cliff. "Hail, Captain of the storm-tossed ship." A ghostly voice sang a mournful tune and a specter wailed its way from the depths. "Hell is empty," it moaned, "and all the devils are here." "You devils look familiar," murmured the Wabbit. Waves smashed against the promontory and soaked the Wabbit's fur. "We take the shape you choose," said a figure on the rocks, "What message do you bring?" The Wabbit thought for a second and then shrugged. "I am the only message." The specter hung in the air and wailed long it set the Wabbit's teeth on edge. "What ails thee, specter?" asked the Wabbit. "Nothing ails me but the lack of it," moaned the specter. It sank beneath the waves only to surface close to the Wabbit. "Who are you?" said the Wabbit. His question was sudden and commanding. The figure on the rocks leaned down until he nearly reached the sea. "We are remnants, deserted and forgotten. We wait to be set free." The Wabbit grinned. "Thou shalt have freedom yet. Freedom is for the taking." "Then take us with you," said the figure. The Wabbit beckoned in welcome - but at that moment, both figure and specter faded until only waves remained.

6. The Wabbit and the Premised Tempest

The sea had looked like a mirror but a storm blew in suddenly from the east and lashed the Unut like a thousand whips. The sky grew black. Lightning coursed along the surface and flickered up the hull. The Unut was 10,000 tons and more but the sea tossed it up and down like a cork. The Wabbit strolled calmly along the deck and anchored himself to a rail. Lapinette scurried out and did the same. They peered into the distance. "It's good to mess about with boats," smiled the Wabbit. Lapinette thought of the pedalos in the park. "Adventure in the open air," she gasped. Her stomach lurched but her eyes swept the horizon nonetheless. "What's that?" "Something that shouldn't be there," muttered the Wabbit, "Dead slow." signalled Lapinette. But the Unut was already slowing to a standstill. Three islands shrouded in a soaking mist danced in the sea. "Dead slow ahead," signalled the Wabbit. The Unut moved forward. So did the islands. They're floating," gasped Lapinette. The wind roared and tore at their fur, snatching their voices and returning them mangled. "A plague on this howling," shouted Lapinette." "I've no mind to sink!" yelled the Wabbit, "Full ahead!" The islands pulled away and parted. as the vast bulk of the destroyer tore a path through the perilous waters. The Wabbit grimaced at the sea. "Parting is such sweet sorrow."

5. The Lepus and the Mysterious Island

Captain Jenny was first to report the sighting of a likely island. But there was nothing there. Not a seagull, not a gannet, not even a crab. "Curious," thought Jenny. "Hail the island," she shouted. The Lepus let out three klaxon blasts, loud enough to wake the dead. The island remained still as the Lepus circled. Jenny considered a landing party but something made her draw back. "Move away," she ordered. The Lepus moved out a few metres but stopped. Propellers thrashed in an unyielding sea that clutched the Lepus in a grip of steel. Engines died. The breeze stopped and the flag hung limp. The Lepus pitched lazily up and down like a fishing fly. Jenny picked up the radio but it was dead. Only then did she feel a tug from below that dragged the Lepus close to the rocks that surrounded the island. She tried to compensate but it was useless. Then she felt a push in the opposite direction - it was a bit stronger than the pull. Jenny saw water thresh around a large hump, which lay close against the hull. Now a steady force pushed the Lepus sideways out to sea until it was some distance from the island. Only then did Nessie's head break the surface to an ear-splitting cheer from the crew. "Nae problem," said Nessie.
[Nae (Scottish dialect) :  No]

4. The Wabbit and the Fatal Island

When Lapinette arrived at the docks, things were more than ready. "We leave on the next tide," said the Wabbit waving his map. "Aye, Commander!" yelled Skratch the Cat. Lapinette wanted to know where they were going. "What's on the map?" asked Wabsworth. He tapped the jeep's hood three times. "Oh nothing of interest," said the Wabbit. "I just like to wave it." He tucked it back in his fur and paused for effect. "From the information in the Codex, I gather it's somewhere between Naples and Tunis." Parakalo the dove circled overhead and cooed. "Parakalo is our lookout." said the Wabbit, "He will fly ahead and bring back twigs." "So we'll know when we're close," murmured Lapinette. "Then what?" asked Wabsworth. "We land and look for the holy artifact," shrugged the Wabbit. Skratch wanted to know if there was anyone on the island. "A miserable old man and his daughter," replied the Wabbit, "and a sprite - and someone referred to as a son of a witch." Skratch meaowed down. "What's the name of this island." The Wabbit looked up. "The codex says it's called The Fatal Island. Many tried to find it and all perished." "At the gills of a sea monster," nodded Wabsworth. The Wabbit stared. "How the binky did you know?" Wabsworth grinned. "I saw it in the movies"

3. The Wabbit and the Codex Instructions

The Wabbit grabbed the page and took off, reading it. Lapinette flew after him. "That looks original!" The Wabbit smirked. "Maybe it is and maybe it's no." He hopped down the stairs. Lapinette hung over the balcony and tried to see the page. "It's a play," she smiled. "There's a list on the back," said the Wabbit. He read it out. "Knife, sword, firewood." Lapinette's ears swayed. The Wabbit continued. "Ship box, island, dogs ears." "Dogs ears?" yelled Lapinette. "I think so," said the Wabbit, "the writing's squiggly." He squinted down the page. "Any more?" asked Lapinette. "Fripperies," announced the Wabbit. Lapinette paused to think. "Does the list involve a magic book?" "It's in capitals," nodded the Wabbit. "Then they're all things in The Tempest," murmured Lapinette. She pirouetted. "You were on the stage weren't you?" said the Wabbit slyly. Lapinette fluttered her paws. "Acting is a passport to fun." The Wabbit laughed. "So maybe you could play spy and decode this." Lapinette flew down the stairs and seized the page. Her eyes flew up and down the page and then she turned it over. "The code is in the text." The Wabbit took it back and had a look. "It says we gotta split forthwith." "Our transport awaits," said a familiar voice. The Wabbit didn't turn. "Where are we off to?" "To unpathed waters, undreamed shores," answered Wabsworth.

2. The Wabbit and the Medieval Tome

The Wabbit was in a temporary office at the castle, allocated to him by the Department of Wabbit Affairs. His own office was sorely in need of redecoration and the Department had taken the opportunity when it presented. He looked at the book on his desk. It had been there on his arrival and it was in such poor shape, he was reluctant to move it. He poked it with a paw and a bit fell off. He scowled. "No no no," shouted Lapinette. "You need to be more careful" "Oh, it's only a dusty old tome," decided the Wabbit. "It looks priceless," commented Lapinette. The Wabbit frowned. "Look, someone's pinned a note to it." He studied it, but could make head nor tail of neither the note nor the manuscript. He leafed the pages over so quickly that Lapinette felt the breeze shake her ears. "I can't understand a thing," he said. "It's upside down," said Lapinette. "I still can't," retorted the Wabbit. Lapinette took the book and read out loud. "Wretched fellow, said he." Lapinette looked at the Wabbit and pointed at him for effect. "Thou meritest no blessing, and thou wouldest not be profited by one, seeing that thou art clad in fur on such a day as this." The Wabbit felt his fur to make sure it was still there. "It must be a code," he suggested; "Perhaps it's our mission instructions?" At that moment a loose page fell out of the book .... 

1. The Wabbit and the Sign that said Stop

The Wabbit was in a dwam, just hopping along the footpath. Suddenly he came face to face with a giant warning sign. He stopped and studied it closely. The sign clearly advised walking on the opposite side but the Wabbit preferred the side he was on and said so loudly. No-one heard. He shouted a bit and poked the sign with his map. There was no response. "A rabbit can't go anywhere these days," he moaned. He opened his map and studied it. "Cartographers fill things with stuff," he complained. He turned it the other way. "That's better," he murmured, "now I can see where I have to go." The Wabbit was planning a trip and in order to plan a trip the Wabbit required a map, even it was a map of somewhere completely different. "I must have a map," he shouted into the air. The buildings echoed his statement but were otherwise silent. It was true that the Wabbit made good use of maps. He had once found his way out of a dense forest using only a railway map and a compass made from a needle and some string. The Wabbit thought the best parts of a maps were the edges. He ran a paw round all four and cast an eye up and down. But whatever the Wabbit as looking for, it wasn't on the map. That was a given. Things would be just too easy otherwise. He looked up at the sign, then whacked it with a paw. "No, I won't stop!" "Suit yourself," said the sign.
[dwam : Scottish. A state of being lost in thought.]

The Wabbit at the Adventure Caffè

The day was boiling hot and everyone was thirsty. "There's a special beer on tap," said the Wabbit, "beer all round?" Everyone agreed. The Wabbit looked at Lapinette. "You don't like beer." "It's hot, I'll give it a whirl," smiled Lapinette. The Wabbit watched Wabsworth waft to and fro, ferrying foaming beers. Lapinette sniffed her drink, but her nose twitched and she convulsed in a sneeze. The Wabbit signalled to Wabsworth. "Large dry cold prosecco in a chilled glass!" Skratch the Cat loomed up and leaned in. "What was that for a sort of adventure you just had?" Wabsworth returned bearing prosecco. "In this case, art organised experience, to articulate the random as causal." "People like the illusion," shrugged Skratch. "Aye, it be thematically sutured," said Jenny. Lapinette nodded gravely. "You're right there Jenny. Another beer?" She sipped prosecco. Skratch purred. "Before we descend into the pit of relativism, I have something for Jenny." He delved in his fur and produced a red rose identical to the one she'd lost. He threw it high in the air. Jenny caught it and hid a grin. She pinned it on her hat. "What's the connotation of the icon?" "Passion?" offered Wabsworth. Skratch shook his head. "Resurrection and immortality." "You certainly know how to talk to a girl," said Jenny.