Which reminds me, Bitsy. Every time I see you, you look like you need intensive care from the Fashion Resuscitators. Look at you now! Everything you’re wearing is black or drab colors and loose and shapeless. And hightop gym shoes with black socks? Bitsy! Has the FBS Catalog lost your address, or what?
Never mind. I looked at this Luke Floorwalker and I figured it was time for an exchange of interplanetary greetings. I stepped forward and raised my hand in the universal sign of peace. “I come from a planet not unlike your own,” I go, real solemn. “I am Maureen Danielle Birnbaum. Do not call me Muffy.”
This dweeb just boggled at me with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish or something. Finally he figured out how his mouthparts were connected, and he goes, “You’ve come much sooner than we expected.”
“Excuse me?” I go. I hadn’t fully realized that my reputation was spreading all through the universe.
“We didn’t think there’d be any serious trouble until after totality,” he goes.
“I’m no trouble,” I go. “I come in peace for all mankind.”
He took a couple of steps forward and looked a little closer at my garb. He reached out with a finger to boink my chestal covering. Guys are always trying to do that to me. “Whoa, like men have died for less,” I go, in my Command Voice.
“Forgive me, my dear girl. Your fall into barbarism was also more immediate than we predicted. “
This goober rapidly needed straightening out. Old Betsy sang as I whipped her from her scabbard. “I’m not your dear girl, like I’m totally sure,” I go. “ And it’s not barbarism or anything. It’s like being fully wild and free.”
“Whatever,” he goes. “But let me introduce myself. I am Segol 154. “ He cocked his head to one side, so I was supposed to be impressed or something.
“Segol 154?” I go. “Is that like a name you spraypaint on subway cars? You live on 154th Street, or what?”
Now it was his turn to look bummed out. “I am Segol 154. That is my cognomination.” He said it with this little grisly sneer.
“Well, forget you, “ I go. I just didn’t like his attitude, you know?
He paid no attention. “May I ask you, how long have you been under this delusion?”.
I go, “What delusion?”
He goes, “This belief that you’re from another planet?”
Now, see, in everyone of these doggone exploits there comes a time when I have to prove I’m from another planet. Sometimes it’s hard and sometimes it’s easy. So I go, “Why can’t I be from another planet?”
Segol 154 just shook his head sadly. “Because there are no other planets. Lagash is all alone, circling Alpha. There are five other suns, but no planets. Although in the last ten years, the work of Aton 77 and others has deduced the existence of a lesser satellite, we’re equally certain that no life could exist upon it. “
“No other planets? Oh yeah?” Okay, so maybe I could’ve come up with a stronger argument.
“Yes, that is the case. So you see, you can’t be from another planet. You were born on Lagash, just as I was.”
“I never even heard of Lagash until a minute ago! I came from Earth, that beautiful sapphire-blue world my people so sadly take for granted. “
“If that is the case,” he goes, smirking like an idiot, “how do you explain the fact that you speak English?”
Well, I’ve told you before, it’s just amazing, huh? No matter where my adventures take me, they speak English when I get there. Prince Van spoke English on Mars, and the ape-things in the center of the Earth spoke English, and they were still speaking English in the far distant future. So I guess it was no biggie to find out they spoke English on Lagash, too. But I wasn’t going to tell Segol about all that. “I have studied your language,” I go. “We’ve picked up your television programs on Earth for some time, okay?”
His eyes kind of narrowed, and he looked at me for a little while without saying anything. Then he goes, “What is television?”
Omigod! Like I’m on a weirdo planet with no TV! “Your radio broadcasts,” I go, “that’s what I meant. We’ve studied your language and learned many things about your culture and all.”
He nodded. “It’s possible,” he goes. “There are many questions I must ask you, before I can be sure you are speaking the truth. But we can’t talk here. You must come with me. I was on my way to the Hideout.”
Now, believe me, at first I thought he was a complete dudley, but I’ve learned to give guys the benefit of the doubt. You never know who’s got like, you know, a cute little ski shack in Vail or something. So I didn’t bail on this guy just ‘cause he looked like he probably bit the heads off chipmunks in his bedroom or something, and anyway he’d just invited me to cruise the local Lagash nightlife.
I turned around in front of him and I go, “So am I dressed for the Hideout, or what? Is there dancing, or are we just going to like, you know, sit there and drink all night?” Which would’ve been okay, too. We warrior women can party till our brass brassieres turn green.
Segol looked at me like I was whoa nelly crazy or something. “What are you talking about?” he goes. “We’re in terrible danger here. The Hideout is our only chance of survival. We have to hurry!”
Okay, I’m not as stupid as I look: I finally figured out that the Hideout was like a hideout or something. We started hurrying back down the road. “Where is this place?” I go. “ And what are you so afraid of!”
“It’s going to be dark soon,” he goes, as if that said it all.
I laughed. “Your mama wants you home by suppertime, huh?”
“My dear girl-” He saw the grim look in my eyes and caught himself. “Maureen, perhaps you haven’t heard Aton’s ideas explained clearly.”
I go, “So who is this Aton dude when he’s at home? You mentioned him before.”
“Aton 77 is one of the most brilliant scientists on all of Lagash. He is a famous astronomer, and director of Saro University. He’s predicted that the entire world will go mad tonight when total Darkness falls.”
It sounded mondo dumb to me. “That’s why God gave us nightlights,” I go. “I mean, I even had this Jiminy Cricket lamp when I was a kid. Wouldn’t go to sleep or anything until Daddy turned it on for me.”
His voice trailed off. I don’t think he even heard me, you know? He goes, “ And then after the insanity starts, the fire and destruction will begin. Nothing will be left. Our entire civilization, every vestige of our culture, all of it will be eradicated. And the Observatory will be the first target, thanks to the Cultists. Our only hope is the Hideout. “
I slid Old Betsy back into her scabbard while I thought about what Segol had said. “You’re not kidding about this,” I go. “You’re like really scared, huh?”
He dropped his gaze to the ground. “I admit it,” he goes, “I’m terrified.”
Well, jeez, Bitsy, he was like such a little boy when he said that! I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, even though I still figured he was maybe stretching the truth just a teensy bit. “That Aton guy is still up there at the Observatory, right?” I go.
Segol looked up at me sort of mournfully. “Yes, along with a few of the other scientists who volunteered to stay behind and record the event.”
“And you were supposed to be there, too?”
He looked ashamed, but all he did was nod his head.
“And instead, you’re just zeeking out and lamming it for the Hideout. “
“We’ve got to move fast, because they’ll be coming from Saro City. They may kill us if they catch us here!”
I had this picture in my mind of those clearly freaked villagers waving torches around in Frankenstein, you know? I knew I could save this guy from a dozen or two rousted locals, but if the whole city turned up, whoa, like see ya bye! So the Hideout sounded like a maximum cool idea.
We followed the road downhill, and I had more time to think about what Segol had said. I mean, either the deadly cold of deep space had frozen my brain, or I was like really missing something. All I knew was that a lot of irked people were going to shred the Observatory, because they’d be driven loony by the darkness. See, I hadn’t noticed the capital D Segol had put on “Darkness.”
“Mr. 154,” I go, “or may I call you Segol? Can I like ask you something?”
“Huh?” he goes. He was way spaced, and he wasn’t even paying attention to me or anything.
“What makes this night different from all other nights?” I go. There was this moment of quiet when I realized that I sounded just like my little cousin Howard on Passover at my Uncle Sammy’s. Maybe I’d heard Segol wrong. Maybe he said the threat was coming from “Pharaoh City,” not “Saro City.”