The group watches as Lirassa leads Zeton to her cute, little car and then drives off in a hail of shrieking tires, once again only just missing the doors of the gate as it opens.
There is a chorus of sighs among the group, and then Ham says, "Now what?"
Mon'Fargret looks at Widjgleeby thoughtfully, stroking his mustache, and then he says, "I think Widjgleeby just might fit in the back of the van. It'll be tight, though."
Widjgleeby snorts irritably and goes on looking out the window.
"The problem is where to put everyone else," Mon'Fargret goes on. "The van is for hauling stuff. It only has one bench seat plus two in the front. We can put four, maybe five of us plus the driver in there."
"There are exactly seven of us here in addition to Widjgleeby," points out Nekshi. "There is also a matter of anatomy. Assuming your vehicle was designed with Yangae and/or Hergoth in mind, Granite Spear would require at least half of the bench seat. As for the other half..." She lifts her gaze to Ham's tall, stocky frame. Then she reaches over and pats Dabid's paunch.
Dabid immediately swats her hand away and brushes his belly off as if it were soiled.
"You must see the problem here," adds Nekshi, cradling her assaulted limb. "Assuming no one is left behind or forced to rely on podiatric transportation..."
"'Podiatric'?" snaps Dabid indignantly. "That's not a word!"
"There is other car," rumbles Widjgleeby.
Nekshi's bushy eyebrows almost merge. "I beg to differ! The Yangae language does in fact allow for the use of classic Sarkish terms with proper declension! For example..."
"She's right, purple," says Mey'Luskar quickly.
"What?" rails Dabid. "Tell me, scarlet, would any civilized Yangae ever say, 'podiatric transportation'?"
"There is other car," repeats Widjgleeby.
"No," replies Mey'Luskar, "but if they had a proper education they'd understand what it meant."
Dabid makes a very interesting (and very caustic-sounding) noise.
"What did you say, Widjgleeby?" asks Bina very deliberately.
Widjgleeby points with four of her hands. "Other car!"
"Now that is improper Yangae," says Mey'Luskar.
Widjgleeby uses one of her remaining hands to make a very unfriendly Yangae gesture.
"Actually, that is also an inaccurate assessment," retorts Nekshi. "In the standard dialect of the Labor and Soil Tender castes it is both common and acceptable to make statements lacking one or more standard grammar cases."
Widjgleeby's remaining hand echoes the gesture.
"Widjgleeby," says Mey'Luskar, "I think you want to say, 'There is another car.'"
Widjgleeby says, "There is another car," in Her-Galad. Then she belches.
"This is important!" says Bina. Then she looks at Mon'Fargret.
"Yes," he says, "I do have another car. It's a little Tuzero."
"Oh, how cute!" coos Mey'Luskar. "Why don't you let me drive it? I'll carry Bina and...one more? Maybe purple, here? You can drive the van with the others!"
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[
Red Tuzero
I strip away the old debris that hides a shining car
A brilliant red Tuzero from a better vanished time
I fire up the willing engine responding with a roar
Tires spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime
]
Mon'Fargret replies, "It sounds like we have our plan."
He grabs his rucksack and loads it into the van next to the driver's seat.
"Next stop, Wirgs. All aboard."
"Done!" chirps Mey'Luskar as she jumps up from the sofa, holding out her hand.
"Wait!" says Bina with both surprise and concern, moving toward her. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm all sparkle!" replies Mey'Luskar with a little dance as Mon'Fargret hands her the smart key. "How about you?"
Bina looks confused. "But...you just took..."
"Yeah," interrupts Mey'Luskar. "I know. That was weird but kind of cool at the same time! Shall we go?"
"But...what did you do with it?"
Mey'Luskar stops bouncing for a minute and looks at Mon'Fargret thoughtfully. Then she turns to Bina and says with a Yangae shrug, "I just let it go."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that!"
"But...how? I mean...you've never..."
"No, I haven't!" Mey'Luskar takes a deep breath and suddenly looks very serious. "But I think I'm starting to understand! I'm starting to understand a lot of things. Off?" Reassuming her carefree manner, she swaggers outside.
Bina stands and stares, mouth open.
Nekshi gives Dabid the 'eye' and climbs in the rear of Mon'Fargret's van.
"No need to worry about me or Granite, I happen to be a trained contortionist and know where most of Granite's envenomed spikes are. We'll be fine back here as long as you avoid most pot holes!"
She puts a small black tube in her mouth and whistles enthusiastically.
(I'm getting a bit confused here. Why are people suddenly phasing back and forth between being outside in the carport and being in the living room? Oh, well. I guess everyone's outside in the carport now.)
Dabid avoids Nekshi's glare, instead eying Bina warily.
"Let's not keep everyone waiting, Duna," says the Hergoth gently.
Dabid only scowls.
"What's wrong?" asks Bina, crossing her arms and cocking her head.
"Are you pretending you don't already know?" retorts Dabid.
"I'm not deep-reading you," replies Bina. "That would be rude."
"So how is it that you know my first name is Duna when everyone calls me Dabid?"
Bina gestures dismissal. "Shared knowledge. I learned all your names when you were at the Temple."
He nods toward Mey'Luskar, who is getting into the sporty, little Tuzero. "So what's her real name?"
"She broke with her name," replies Bina, "just like I did. She's Mey'Luskar now. It's all that matters."
Dabid harrumphs. "Is that so? Are you still Bina of the Temple?"
Bina grins solemnly. "For now just Bina."
Dabid smirks, chortles with contempt, and heads for the Tuzero (rather unsteadily). As he goes, he mutters, "Just me scrunched into a car with two branchless female outcasts. Why not?"
Bina winces slightly. Then she gives a quick bow to the rest of the party and hurries after him.
Hmmm Good sandwiches! Widjy says as she goes lolloping out to the carport. She opens the freight door and eyes the cargo area with some trepidation before carefully folding all her limbs and sliding inside. It is a bit tight but once she figures out what to do with her tail it isn't bad. It even smells nice, metal and wood and earth, none of that foul flower smell so many put in their vehicles.
Eventually Granite Spear comes (dripping wet) and climbs into the van along with the rest of the throng. The gates open, and Mon'Fargret starts to roll the van forward. At precisely the same time, Mey'Luskar activates the gravcushion drive on the Tuzero, lifts it about a meter off the ground, zips around the larger vehicle, and sets it down on its wheels just as it passes through the gate and directly into traffic.
Taken by surprise, Mon'Fargret instinctively veers to avoid and has to brake to keep from clipping the wall. With a sigh, he corrects his approach and pulls out onto the street a few cars behind the Tuzero.
Mon'Fargret just heads towards Wirg's hoping the Mey gets the Tuzero there in one piece. He drives around the block once to scope for evil eyes before parking.
Nekshi pipes up from the cargo area.
"I may not be an expert on Foldorian psychology, but returning to Wirg's may well constitute a challenge on our part. Do you agree Mon'Fargret?"
Traffic is a bit on the heavy side, so getting around the Square takes a while. On the other hand, the little municipal parking lot that Wirg's shares with a few other shops is mostly empty.
During the drive there, nothing looks out of the ordinary except the Peace Force presence, which still seems heavier than usual. A few cops on VTOL bikes can be seen buzzing about, and no less than three patrol cars come into view at some point along the way. None of them seems to pay any attention to the van, however.
There's no sign of the Tuzero at the parking area. The group waits for a few minutes, but it still doesn't show.
There is both impatience and worry in the group as they wait a few more minutes and still see no sign of Mey'Luskar and the others. There is some debate as to whether to go on in, wait in the van longer, risk communication, or head out in search. Some of the members disembark and mill about anxiously. Mon'Fargret turns on his wrister and fiddles with it a bit while going over the possibilities in his mind.
Then a text message comes in from Mey'Luskar:
Sorry. Got hung up. Be there soon. Go on in. Sorry. m'L
[Mon'Fargret starts shooting into the crowd until Ham finally wrenches the weapon from his hands.]
Mon'Fargret sighs and rolls his eyes. He says with a touch of annoyance, "I heard from Mey. They got 'hung up' whatever that means. I just hope the Tuzero is still in one piece. Let's go in."
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