LJ Idol // Round 2 // No Man is a Hero to his Valet
Days at the Edge of the Universe.
An extract from the Diary of Percival Mulligan, manservant to the Archduke of Andromeda 4.
We came upon the cracks quite by accident, and took anchor for a while between the stars and the supernova. All were steeped in turquoise and sunlight, and the more we tried to count them, the more they multiplied. On the first day I reached one thousand before I stopped counting, but even as we watched, four cracks became eight, became sixteen and more: shafts of iridescence in the silent sky.
“I think, sir,” I said, after a long silence, “We may have reached the edge of the universe.”
The Archduke took to his bed immediately and has not emerged from his cabin since. I have provided him with endless cups of freshly-brewed sugary tea in the interim, but he seems determined that he will remain exactly where he is until the Captain decides that we should return to civilisation. Unfortunately for him, however, it seems that the longer we remain within striking distance of the cracks, the less inclined the Captain has become to escape them.
So much less inclined, in fact, that on the evening of the fourth day, the Captain sat down beside me whilst I was still drinking my afternoon tea.
“Percival,” he said. “It is Percival, is it not?”
I nodded once, and the Captain gestured towards the back of the ship.
“How is the old fellow doing?” he asked. “He seemed a little... overwhelmed.”
“The Archduke is quite well,” I replied, taking another sip of tea, “He is merely engrossed in his studies.”
The Captain made a suspicious sound, but did not question me further. He, like everybody, knew that the first test of a good valet is how well they may lie with absolute decorum and a straight face. There was almost a full minute of silence before the Captain spoke again.
“What do you think is out there?”
I put my teacup down on the floor. “I think, Captain,” I replied, “that some things are best left unknown.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” I stood and walked across the deck to the window: three cracks became six cracks before I became aware that I was counting them again.
“Ah,” said the Captain.
“Why do you ask?”
There was a long silence. Outside six cracks became twelve.
“You are not afraid of the cracks, however?” The Captain leaned forwards slightly.
“It is not my place to be afraid, Captain.”
“I thought so,” was his response.
Bollocks, thought I, because I could see now exactly where the Captain was leading.
And so, here I am, at the beginning of the fifth day, waiting to board the one-man Explorer Pod. I have been given my instructions, but I have not told the Archduke where I am going. I surmise that he will remain in a stupor for long enough that he will be unlikely to notice my absence. And let’s face it; if I do not return then it isn't going to be my problem.
An extract from the Diary of Percival Mulligan, manservant to the Archduke of Andromeda 4.
We came upon the cracks quite by accident, and took anchor for a while between the stars and the supernova. All were steeped in turquoise and sunlight, and the more we tried to count them, the more they multiplied. On the first day I reached one thousand before I stopped counting, but even as we watched, four cracks became eight, became sixteen and more: shafts of iridescence in the silent sky.
“I think, sir,” I said, after a long silence, “We may have reached the edge of the universe.”
The Archduke took to his bed immediately and has not emerged from his cabin since. I have provided him with endless cups of freshly-brewed sugary tea in the interim, but he seems determined that he will remain exactly where he is until the Captain decides that we should return to civilisation. Unfortunately for him, however, it seems that the longer we remain within striking distance of the cracks, the less inclined the Captain has become to escape them.
So much less inclined, in fact, that on the evening of the fourth day, the Captain sat down beside me whilst I was still drinking my afternoon tea.
“Percival,” he said. “It is Percival, is it not?”
I nodded once, and the Captain gestured towards the back of the ship.
“How is the old fellow doing?” he asked. “He seemed a little... overwhelmed.”
“The Archduke is quite well,” I replied, taking another sip of tea, “He is merely engrossed in his studies.”
The Captain made a suspicious sound, but did not question me further. He, like everybody, knew that the first test of a good valet is how well they may lie with absolute decorum and a straight face. There was almost a full minute of silence before the Captain spoke again.
“What do you think is out there?”
I put my teacup down on the floor. “I think, Captain,” I replied, “that some things are best left unknown.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” I stood and walked across the deck to the window: three cracks became six cracks before I became aware that I was counting them again.
“Ah,” said the Captain.
“Why do you ask?”
There was a long silence. Outside six cracks became twelve.
“You are not afraid of the cracks, however?” The Captain leaned forwards slightly.
“It is not my place to be afraid, Captain.”
“I thought so,” was his response.
Bollocks, thought I, because I could see now exactly where the Captain was leading.
And so, here I am, at the beginning of the fifth day, waiting to board the one-man Explorer Pod. I have been given my instructions, but I have not told the Archduke where I am going. I surmise that he will remain in a stupor for long enough that he will be unlikely to notice my absence. And let’s face it; if I do not return then it isn't going to be my problem.