“APOLOGY ACCEPTED,” EXFLIBBERAGUIL REPLIED NONCHALANTLY.
Nick looked at him expectantly.
“What?”
“You’re supposed to apologize too! Did you know how hard it was to destroy what little pride I had to apologize?”
“I don’t want to hurt my pride,” Exflibberaguil replied, “is this whole ‘apologizing’ thing Sodriew etiquette?”
“Yes!” Nick shouted, exasperated.
“Well then, I still refuse to apologize. It is not Mustela etiquette.”
“I think I remember why I was mad at you now,” Nick groaned.
“Yes, I know. I was just too infuriatingly perfect.”
“I’m leaving. Tell me when the ship’s about to take off.” Nick shuffled off.
Exflibberaguil bit his lip, a Sodriew action he had been trying to learn. “Er, about that,” he began, “there may be a slight delay. You see, my careless ferret brought another specialist, and I have to memory wipe her before we can take off. I also need to memory wipe myself.”
“I told you we should have taken off earlier! Now look at the mess you created!”
“Oh, it’s not too bad. I’m sure with Odriew curiosity, she’d eventually come back.”
“Yes, but she’d bring a dozen people with her?”
Exflibberaguil blinked. “Now why should she do that?”
“Well, to confirm that she had really saw this ship,” Nick explained.
Exflibberaguil’s brow furrowed even more from confusion. “But she already saw the ship. What is there to confirm?”
“I guess,” Nick stopped, trying to think of the right words, “I guess we’re just insecure. We see a lot of things, but we don’t believe what we see. Does that make sense?”
“So what you mean is, I don’t actually have to wipe all their memories. As long as they don’t see this ship when they come back, even the woman wouldn’t have believed herself,” Exflibberaguil mused, “You are actually pretty helpful.”
“Exactly! I was trying to say that yesterday!”
“Yes, but the problem is that there is photo evidence.”
“Oh. That’s a problem.” Nick sighed, deflated.
“Yes. But now that I think about it, I can’t memory wipe a dozen people. I have enough fuel, but unless Sodriew have a brain of a skunk, sooner or later they’d figure something was wrong. Having so many people lose their memories at once is way too suspicious,” Exflibberaguil rambled, “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to delete the photo the woman took. The device is simple enough. I saw the same thing on the man we wiped yesterday. And box could probably get into it easily. However, some photos are very loyal to their capturer. Especially photos of significant importance. It would be hard to delete those.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“But wait,” Nick interrupted, “what would the photo show?”
“My ship, of course.”
“Yes, I know. But your ship is completely black. And the forest is also very dark.”
“That’s right.”
“So,” Nick continued, “The photo would just be a dark spot in a dark setting.”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s easy! I’m sure humans are stupid enough to believe that the dark spot was just a finger that accidently covered the camera hole.”
“You wouldn’t believe that! No one will ever believe it.”
“Yes, but you forget. I’m a kid, and kids have a greater imagination. We want to believe the impossible. But grown-ups want to understand everything that doesn’t make sense. And so they’ll invent these stories and think they’re so smart.”
“Are you sure this will work?”
“Almost positive.”
Exflibberaguil considered.
“Well, what have we got to lose?” he said at last, “You know, I remember why I hired you in the first place.”
“Why?”
“Only you can understand the idiotic brains of your kind.”
----------------------------------------
“I SWEAR I SAW SOMETHING HERE LAST NIGHT.”
“Oakley, that’s enough. I never expected you to find the standing cat anyway,” Z said soothingly.
“No, I took a picture of it!”
“That’s just a dark smudge. You must have covered the camera by accident.”
“No! I know what I saw!”
“If you insist,” Z sighed, “But there’s obviously nothing here.”
“But…” Oakley trailed off, “…you’re right. I’m sorry for dragging you out here. I must have been tired. Maybe it’s the medication I’ve been taking.”
“Medication? Are you sick?”
“No. It just helps me digest easier. I recently had a tapeworm extracted from my intestines.”
“Ah,” Z replied, no longer so interested, “I see.”
“I have to go to my doctor today anyway. Let’s head out.”
Z had been a little put off by Oakley’s cold demeanor. All his attempts at conversation had been met by cynical and sarcastic replies. Eventually, he gave up, walking in silence until he reached the edge of the forest. They bid goodbye, and both set off in different directions.
Oakley, still deep in thought, began driving to her doctor.
She was met by the pretty nurse, Donna. “Hello. I made an appointment.”
“That’s right. The doctor will be here in a moment.”
“He’s not here?”
“No. He will be in a moment.”
Soon enough, the doctor bustled through the door, pulling on his white coat. “Donna! You told me there were no early appointments!”
“It is one in the afternoon, doctor.”
“Still!” the doctor huffed, “Oh, hello Oakley. Here for your checkup?”
“Yes, that’s right,” she replied robotically.
“Well, come right in then.” The doctor held a door open, and Oakley stepped inside.
Oakley continued to frown, as the doctor asked questions. She replied in a monotonous voice. “Yes. No. No. Yes.”
“Oakley, is something bothering you?” the doctor asked.
“Oh, it’s just,” Oakley poured the story out, “…but when I went an hour ago, it was gone! Nothing. Really, really strange. I have a picture of it, but it was so dark. Like, I couldn’t even tell it was three-dimensional. So the picture just looked like a black smudge. Z says it was only my finger blocking the camera. But I know what I saw!”
“Interesting,” the doctor commented, as if he had been treating a patient who was describing a long history of headaches—something easily curable by drinking more water.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Oakley sighed.
“Where was it?” The doctor purposely ignored the direct question.
“Oh, just at some tailor’s backyard.”
“Tailor?”
“Yeah. Funny man with this oval-shaped head. Has a cat. I think he lived on Tunnel street? Kernel street? Something like that.”
“42 Funnel street?”
“That’s it! A patient of yours?”
The doctor sat down, barely able to contain his excitement. “Please repeat your story.”
Oakley raised an eyebrow, but obeyed. “Alright. So yesterday…”