4. The Wabbit and the Meaning of Death

With Cicero in tow, the Wabbit and Lapinette went to San Lorenzo in Damaso, an old church they knew. They didn't really know what to do with Cicero, but they had no intention of going back to Ostia Antica. That was far too dangerous. Just at the door, they paused by an elaborate gravestone. "Here lies Tomai Aretio!" exclaimed Lapinette. She had no idea who that was but had an encyclopaedic memory for catalogues. Cicero drew himself up into oratorial style, "You have your dead here?" He was astonished. "We always separate death from life. Tombs should be outside the city gates." The Wabbit knew all about funeral practices in ancient Rome, having competed a module at night school. "More recently, church benefactors could be buried within the walls." Cicero stepped back. "But dead bodies are polluting. Perhaps this deathly creature transported the dead to the Esquiline undertakers." Lapinette shook her head. "No, his body lies below." She indicated the flagstones on the floor of the church. "Do you believe in one God, Cicero." Cicero laughed. "By Jove, that depends on who's listening!" The Wabbit struck a pose. "Arm'd with the terrors of Almighty Jove. Lov'st thou to walk, the peaceful solemn grove." Cicero struck a pose too. "Sounds OK to me. Better than debating that sheep, Mark Antony." Lapinette made funny ears and yelled baa. So did the Wabbit. Then Cicero. The sound of sheep echoed from the church door and bleated its way into the piazza.

3. The Wabbit & Lapinette meet Big Cicero

The Wabbit was walking by the Tiber where he spotted Lapinette. He hailed her with a merry cry. She rushed towards him with puckered lips. They hugged. "Let me tell you about something strange that's been happening to me," said the Wabbit. Lapinette laughed. "Something strange is always happening to you." The Wabbit shared her amusement. But just as he was about to explain, a voice hailed him. "Commander, Commander!" The Wabbit ignored it. Lapinette looked around. She saw nothing and shook her head. "Pay no attention, it's in your head." They gazed at the Tiber. "I've swam the Tiber and the Po." murmured the Wabbit." Lapinette pouted. "So damned exciting, is that so?" They both giggled. "Commander, Commander! Remember me?" It was that voice again. This time they both turned. "Over there," said Lapinette. "It's Big Cicero!" shouted the Wabbit. "Long time, no see," said Cicero. "Join me in a dish of garum? I know a little place round the corner." Lapinette waved but turned up her nose. "I hate garum." It was under her breath, but Cicero heard her. "Don't worry Lapinette, there's lots of fishy Roman cuisine here." It was more than a decade since they'd met Cicero in Ancient Rome. The Wabbit touched Lapinette. "He must have found a way back, through the fabric of time." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Talking of fabric, he needs a new toga." Lapinette knew what was coming. "XL?" she asked. "No, just the one!" chortled the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and Betty's Advice

The Wabbit never gave the tobacconist a second thought. But later that year he was prowling through the back streets of Turin when he heard a voice. "How are your adventures, Wabbit?" He turned, then smiled. Betty Boop looked at him, backlit and beautiful. She winked. "Wabbit, your adventures are famous worldwide." The Wabbit was in front of a cinema which Skratch insisted showed experimental films. But the Wabbit knew it was an adult film theatre. "My adventures are just fine and dandy Betty," he said, "Always full of excitement." Betty winked once more. "Satire too." The Wabbit blushed, shrugged and asked the critical question. "Why are you in front of a place like this?" Betty stuck a leg in the air and simpered. "I'm public domain now. But I like to watch the street." They gazed at each other. The Wabbit chirped. "I'm trademarked, you know." "Does it hurt? smiled Betty. "Only when I laugh," gasped the Wabbit. "You were in a few adventures, Betty. Any story advice?" Betty's lights flickered. "I like the ones that have no narrative point." The Wabbit blinked. "None of them do." Betty winked the slowest wink that ever was winked. "Maybe that's the point, Wabbit." The Wabbit thought of Minnie the Moocher.  His head swam. "I'll keep an eye open for you, Commander," said Betty. The back light flickered. The cinema plunged into darkness. The Wabbit heard singing as he hopped along the street. "He's got eyes of blue and that's my weakness now."

1. The Wabbit and the Damp Sunday

The day was damp. Wet leaves lay on the street. The Wabbit hopped aimlessly along Via Gregorio VII. It wasn't so cold, but the weather lay on his shoulders like a soggy towel. The Wabbit didn't like days like this. His fur was humid, which put him in a bad a bad mood. He was passing a tobacconist when a voice spoke to him. "What?" grunted the Wabbit. He didn't want to be rude, but he was quietly minding his own business. "How are your adventures?" Now the Wabbit paid attention. "Who are you?" He stared for a while at the closed shutter. "I am the smoking shutter as befits a tobacconist." The Wabbit looked displeased. "Smoking is bad for you!" The shutter smiled. "I'm what you might call a campesino." His shoulders seemed to shrug. "Besides, lots of things are bad for you." The Wabbit was in no mood for idle chitter-chatter and he breathed a sigh. "Please come to the point." The campesino took the cigarette from his mouth. "Come back and see me when I'm open and I'll advise you of an adventure you might have. I'll sell you a lotto ticket too." The Wabbit brightened. In the summer, he'd bought a lotto ticket on a whim and won a hundred euro. Then he'd bought another and won a thousand. He shrugged. "When I come back, the shop will be open - but you'll be closed." The campesino roared with laughter. "Just listen. Put your paw on the lotto ticket you want. If it's a winner I'll rattle in the wind." The Wabbit grunted and hopped on down the road. "Joke, rattle and roll," he murmured. 

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team gathered at a Caffè they knew. But when they arrived it looked different. It was under new management, so they hesitated. "Looks safe," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit nodded. It was near various embassies and was likely secure enough. He nodded to an officer from the Carabinieri and received one in return. Skratch rolled up behind them. "What's everyone waiting for? Let's order." Lapinette simpered. "We were waiting on you, Skratch. Tell us what kind of adventure we just had." Skratch miaowed. "Your Lapinette was a real double, otherwise you wouldn't be wearing a version of your dress. Most fetching by the way." Lapinette curtsied. The Wabbit frowned. "In that case, the other Lapinette is not a dark and unacceptable part of your ego." "Much too Gothic," chortled Wabsworth. They all laughed. "At a sub- atomic level, atoms and molecules might know their own properties," commented Skratch. "So the other Lapinette knew who she was?" Lapinette was intrigued. "Now that's Gothic," said Wabsworth. Skratch let out a blood curdling growl that astonished passers-by. "The realm of the subatomic may be governed by principles that are not unlike semiotic ones." The Wabbit leaned forward. "The other Lapinette did have quantum coherence. Momentarily frozen and unfrozen in knowing and unknowing." Wabsworth was intrigued. "So where is she now, without her frock." I think she seized the possibility of another frock," purred Skratch. Lapinette's eyes widened to an impossible size. "We shouldn't really give a frock," said the Wabbit, "I'm ordering drinks!" 

6. The Wabbit and the Realm of Possibility

Lapinette bounded along the car park ramp at enormous speed. "Leave my Wabbit alone," she yelled. The figure turned. Lapinette faced what seemed to be herself. She lifted her snazer and took aim. Quiet fell and the car park lights flared. Silence froze them both. The Wabbit broke it with a shout. "Don't shoot. She's one of your possibilities." The figure's paws flailed. Her mouth opened. She seemed to say something, but the words were indistinct. "Give me back my frock," screamed Lapinette. She waved her weapon. The Wabbit caught them up and stood in front of the figure "She's you from an old adventure." Lapinette was furious. "She's an imposter and I want my frock back." The Wabbit shook his head. "You'll rupture the space time continuum." Lapinette finally let the snazer drop, but she kept her paw on the trigger. "Explain!" The Wabbit gave a lengthy talk on relativity. He knew Lapinette would be aware of it, but he had to calm her down. The car park echoed to her voice. "She could be dangerous. What about loop quantum gravity?" The Wabbit shrugged. "Probably. Remember you jumped on that underground train?" Lapinette nodded. "Spinfoam formed multidimensions in the tunnel and there were many possible Lapinettes. This one must have generated a topography of its own and remained behind." The alternative Lapinette's mouth moved. This time the Wabbit heard her speak - like the tinkling of tiny bells. "None of this is proven. I'm moving outside the realm of possibilities." She gave a wave and began to fade. Soon there was nothing, except for a tartan kilt that lay on the shiny tarmac. Lapinette picked it up and examined it. "That's possibly mine to keep."

5. The Wabbit and Lapinette's Possibilities

The Wabbit retraced his hops to the car park. It was where he'd first seen Lapinette and he thought he'd pick it up from there. He stomped along in the manner of a detective he'd seen on television. Then he saw her. She was gliding though the car park on electric air. But she was different. Her face shimmered in the harsh glare of the lights. Her frock hung lazily. Not to mention her position - as if she were about to jump onto a moving train. It was then that he realised he seen this before. It was on the Ghost Inspectre subway. A daring Lapinette had dived on the train and he remembered for a second she was transfixed, pixelated by the carriages as they shuttled along. Then it passed. What had she said at the time? A possibility dimension? He tucked his paws in his fur and followed. If she was a ghostly spectre from the past - and it was a possibility - he'd better act like a spectre and haunt. He flattened against the wall and moved stealthily. His ears pricked up. She was humming a tune. "Ghostly, ghastly, ghostly, ghastly. Don't touch the walls, the walls, the walls." The Wabbit stepped away with speed. But not before he felt the clammy gasp of possibility on his shoulders. "I can't possibly put up with this," he gasped. He shrugged off possibilities and kept on the trail. He decided to chance it. "Lapinette!" His voice scraped down the walls. Possibilities squealed. The figure turned, waved at the Wabbit, mouthed "impossible" - and vanished.

4. The Three Fates at the Whisky Bar

Wabsworth was master of the keys and he tinkled the ivories as Tipsy, Mitzy and Fitzy swayed to the rhythm of Brecht. "There's no whisky in this bar," yelled Tipsy. Mitzy moved from left to right. "Wabsworth has whisky and he doesn't even like it." They swayed in unison like the Ronettes. "He has an algorithm for Scotch," they sang. Wabsworth hit a discordant note. "There's no Lapinette in this bar! She can't be far; she can't be far." They changed positions. Tipsy stepped to the front. "No-one knows anything about this adventure. So pass me. The whisky. I must have it, it inspires, you know why." "Pass it. Pass it. We know why," echoed Fitzy and Mitzy. Wabsworth his paws flying across the keys, shifted chords and played Alabama song like the Doors. "Where is the Wabbit?" slurred Tipsy. "At the next whisky bar," said Fitzy. "It's not far," said Mitzy. "It's round the corner from the Spar," chanted Tipsy. Fitzy crossed her legs at an impossible angle. The scent of whisky hung in the air. Wabsworth paws flew and suddenly he sang. "Show me the way to the next lovely girl." Mitzy's eyes flashed. "Your good old Mama. That's me!" She lurched sideways into Tipsy's paws and was propelled across the dance floor. "And now we say goodbye!" Tipsy, Fitzy and Mitzy swayed through the nearest exit. Wabsworth grinned and stood. He swept his fur back, closed the lid of the piano, turned to an imaginary audience and said, "If you enjoyed that, tell my agent." Ghostly applause filled the room. Then to the accompaniment of ethereal cheering, he hopped through the same exit.

3. Lapinette and her Personal Guard

Lapinette gathered her personal guard and headed out to help the Wabbit. They crowded beside her as they'd been instructed to keep away from the side windows. "Keep your weapons inside the truck," yelled Lapinette, "We're in the centre of Rome, don't get mixed up with any tourists." They resembled a mass of darting eyes, looking for prey. The truck hurtled from the doorway of the building they had on loan for a few months until they were ready to make a permanent transfer. When Lapinette drove, the truck seemed to fly. The wheels hardly touched the ground as they coasted the streets near the castle. Fast as a magnet, they scorched a route across the tarmac and the short distance to the market where the Wabbit was last seen. "What the fried fish happened here?" gasped Fitzy. "Flirk, flack, fluck a tluck," lisped Mitzy. It was the closest to swearing as Lapinette's personal guard ever got. All except for Tipsy. "Mosquitos buggered shitweasel!" Lapinette was turning red as she threw on the brakes. "Split up, you strump muppets. Find the Wabbit!" They all leapt out. Brandishing weapons high in the air, they vanished. "Strewth. That felt like herding cats," said Lapinette. She grabbed her automatic, dropped down from the truck and headed into the market. 

2. The Wabbit at San Silverio Market

His radio calls were futile and the Wabbit searched all night. Evening turned to morning and still there was no sign of Lapinette. The walkie talkie maintained an obstinate silence. He circled round. He walked the length and breadth of San Silvario Market and went all the places where Lapinette might go, but still no luck. He was about return to HQ when the radio burst into life. "Commander?" asked Wabsworth, "Where have you been? We've been trying to get you." The Wabbit growled into the mouthpiece. "I've been here all the time. Via Gregorio VII." The radio crackled. "We swept by there and there was no sign of you. But I have Lapinette here," said Wabsworth. "She's been looking for you." Lapinette breathed into the radio. "Where are you now, Wabbit?" The Wabbit was getting annoyed. "San Silvario market, where we were the day before yesterday." Everyone sounded puzzled. "Sounds like you're in a time shift sort of thing," suggested Lapinette. "It's certainly some sort of thing," replied the Wabbit. "Were you in the supermarket yesterday evening?" Lapinette sounded miffed. "No. I was here until late, working on your Dinosaur Fund accounts." The Wabbit was astonished. "Well, your double was over here, laden down with Christmas shopping." "The devil's in the retails," laughed Lapinette. "I hope she got something nice." The Wabbit had to smile. "Put the team together, Lapinette. Is your personal guard available?" The Wabbit heard gunfire at the other end. "They're troubleshooting," said Lapinette. 

1. The Wabbit and the City

On his way to the supermarket, the Wabbit scurried across Via Gregorio VII. This he accomplished at great speed, thinking it was the most dangerous thing he did. Even facing the Agents of Rabit armed with the latest weaponry couldn't inspire the tension he felt. He dodged SUVs, vans, mopeds. bicycles and e-scooters and thought if he stayed still long enough, someone would probably park on his head. He hopped out of the way as a vehicle backed up, and felt under his fur for his automatic. But it was just an elderly lady with a too-big vehicle. He reached the ramp for the supermarket and was halfway down before he realised it wasn't the pedestrian entrance. He forged on and made his way through the parking area. Up ahead he spotted a familiar figure, laden down with Christmas shopping. It was Lapinette. "Lapinette, let me give you a helping paw!" His shouts were drowned by noise and bustle from above. He quickened his pace, to no avail. He took a short cut, but lost sight of her. "Where the binky did she go?" Another SUV moved across his path, blocking his vision. He thought he saw her again, but it was someone else entirely. He turned a corner. Lapinette was gone. He took out his radio but the signal was weak. He retraced his steps, glancing from right to left. When he was at street level he put in an urgent call ... 

The Wabbit goes to his Adventure Caffè

The team walked through the market in search of a snack bar, because the Wabbit insisted it was there. He jumped on a bench and executed a perfect a Highland Fling. Lapinette thought he looked precarious and held out her paws for safety. Wabsworth laughed and imitated the Wabbit as only an android could.  Skratch prowled at the back, gesticulating as usual. "What was that for a sort of adventure?" His tail flicked in anticipation. Visitors to the market disregarded these strange activities. Wabsworth took in the sights and smells, trimming his algorithms appropriately. The Wabbit jumped down, much to Lapinette's relief. Skratch meaowed mightily and caught up. "What was that for a sort of adventure you just had?" Wabsworth held up his paws and did a jig. "What lies in the semiosphere for us, Skratch?" Skratch purred. "Anything set in a cave deals with the unconscious." The Wabbit stopped clowning. "Caves and tunnels illustrate the lived experience of the psyche and the transpersonal." Wabsworth knew the Wabbit was trained in Zurich. "Ha! It puts the depth in depth psychology." Lapinette identified the book at once. "That's The Illustrated Dark by Christopher Lee." Skratch's nose twitched. "The actor or the author?" Wabsworth fell about laughing. His database was big enough to reveal the answer. Lapinette addressed the Wabbit. "Since leaving the cavern brings us to enlightenment, are you enlightened enough to find this Caffè?" The Wabbit jumped on the bench again. He pointed, shading his eyes in the manner of an explorer. "Over there."

[Thanks to: The Illustrated Dark: Cinema Soul and Shadows. Christopher Lee Miller]

10. The Wabbit and the Aftermath

They were just coming back through one of the tunnels they'd found. They left the Agents confused. Wabsworth had administered a serum he'd been developing in the Wabbit's shed. He assured the Wabbit they wouldn't remember a thing - not their organisation, not why they were there, nothing. It would take an army of shrinks to get them back to normal. As they rounded a corner, Lapinette noticed the Wabbit's double agent, Major Spitlove, standing in a corner. He wasn't pleased. "Do you know how long it took me to train these Agents?" Wabsworth laughed. "As long as it will take you to put them back together." Spitlove stamped a foot and howled in protest. "It's no good moaning, Major," said the Wabbit, "That's how it works in the trade." Lapinette smiled. "It's a good thing your space-time machine only worked as long as it did, Wabsworth. It probably turns their brains to scrambeloni." Spitlove looked puzzled. "What's scrambeloni?" The Wabbit grinned. "What I ask for in fancy restaurants to wind up the waiters." Major Spitlove was sick and tired of being the Wabbit's double agent - and he said so. Lapinette nodded. She knew the Wabbit was hard work. But Wabsworth chimed in. "Oh, he's quite good fun!" Lapinette snorted, waved her paws and mouthed, "quack quack quack." Spitlove looked at Wabsworth for explanation. Wabsworth shrugged. "Lapinette is saying the Wabbit quacks us up."

9. The Wabbit and Trouble in the Tunnel

Several rough Agents herded them into a tunnel. They were small of stature, but unlike other Agents, they seemed to have a modicum of intelligence. And they were none too gentle. The Wabbit saw blood on the tunnel floor. Wabsworth gave him the nod. "Fake," he whispered. The Agents had their weapons and for the first time in ages, the Wabbit wasn't quite sure what to do. But Wabsworth had more than a clue. "Lie doggo," he whispered. "I have a plan." The Agent gave Wabsworth a vicious kick. Wabsworth let out a fake cry. But Wabsworth had something up his sleeve. The electric shock machine was all but forgotten but Wabsworth remembered its effect when he'd connected it through his positronic memory. He touched an Agents foot. The Agent gasped then fell. The others gathered round and tied to drag him to his feet. They got a shock when they did and soon, they all lay prone. Lapinette and Wabsworth got to their feet. Lapinette tried not to slip in the fake blood. "Mind the fake blood," shouted Wabsworth. But it was too late. The Wabbit fell in it. Wabsworth grinned. "How ethical was that shock?" The Wabbit shook his head. "I think the spark between us has gone." Lapinette snorted. "The Wabbit thinks he's very funny. What are we going to do with these fellows?" "More of the same?" suggested the Wabbit. Wabsworth giggled. "They'll be ecstatic." Lapinette grinned. "Shocks ain't what they used to be."

8. The Wabbit and the Agents in Disguise

Wabsworth hopped out into the dimly lit cavern. He looked ill at ease - or that's the way it seemed to the Agents of Rabit, The Agents were dressed as the Wabbit's personal guard and they'd made a fist of it. But they couldn't replicate the drunken charm of the originals. Wabsworth stuck his paws in the air and made as if he was shivering wreck. "Please don't hurt me," he whimpered, "I'm only an android." That was the signal. While the lead Agent was distracted, the Wabbit fished out a cache of C4 he always carried in his fur and launched it over the heads of the Agents. The lead Agent dropped his pistol and tried to catch the explosive, but it landed behind them. It sent a shock wave designed to stun and the Agents fell senseless to the ground, all except for the chief. He hopped back a little, then a little more. The Wabbit stepped out. "Where are the rest?" The Agent froze. Wabsworth picked up his automatic and shoved it in his coat. "Tell us now or we'll squeeze it out of you." Lapinette emerged and played Ms Nice Wabbit. "Leave him alone, Wabsworth, I'm certain if we give him biscuits, he'll tell us all he knows." The Agents nearly smiled. "The rest are a level below. Can I have my biscuits now?" Lapinette grimaced. "I lied." But the Wabbit dug in his fur and produced a biscuit, which was rather the worse for wear. " How many?" The Agent munched the biscuit. Crumbs scattered on the floor. A door opened and several armed Agents stepped into the cavern. "Paws up!" They marched forward. "Quite a few," smiled the Agent.