Analgesia by Mirriyuula

“When space and time are curved, telling a story non-sequentially hardly matters” …….. incompetent PA editor

I walk into the Bats Droppings. It feels soft underfoot and aromatic, er, um, the pub that is. Michael the publican gives me a warm greeting “Welcome Father, pint?” “Thanks Michael, where’s that accent from?” I ask. “It’s Welsh Father. It’s a Welsh publican’s voice from the village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” “Pardon!” I exclaim foolishly, “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch” says Michael, “It means St. Mary’s Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the red cave.” Oh for fuck sake, some people just can’t grip reality, I mean wouldn’t something like Woodville be easier on all an sundry.

There’s a poster on the wall, ‘Playing Saturday nite Dave Oarsfield, singer, songwriter, historian and anthropologist’ “So what’s this Dave guy like?” I ask Michael. “He’s good Father, plays a few tunes and will have a chat to anyone willing. Does all of the good Beatles songs” says Michael. Oh well that will take all of two minutes. “Yes, Belinda and I will have to come over, but Michael, you’re all droids aren’t you? I mean how long are we in space for? The food and stuff how do we get that?” “So many questions, so little time” jokes Michael. “Now let’s see. The ship is self-sustaining. We need to get water sometimes but virtually everything is made on board. I’ll get one of the droids to take you to the farm bio, it’s up the river. Yes, all droids last time I looked” Michael laughs heartily as he feels his crotch. I like this droid, er, um, guy.

“B, b, but?” I stutter trying to take in the enormity of it all. “Well” injects Michael “ We have evolved over millions of years. Gordon brought in the basic building blocks and programmed us to evolve into what we are today. Each generation of droid builds the next generation and so on. The droids are programmed to respond to your movements as part of the SNAP program, you know to make you feel as normal as possible.” Acronyms Jesus Christ I am sick of bloody acronyms

So after a few pints and a lot of thinking time I head back to the manor. George answers the door “Dinner will be at 1930 hrs Sir, oops Sandy. The ladies are in the sitting room”. “Wow Belinda, you look fabulous, well done Helvi” I spurt. “It’s easy when you have someone wonderful to work on Sandy” Helvi says. “Helvi?” “Yes Sandy” “Look George said before that the ship had 299 droids on board, I mean why not go the whole hog and add one more for 300?” I muse. “Well there is a 300^th droid Sandy but we left him on Earth.” Helvi replies. “Why is it so?” I ask doing my Jules impersonation. “Well, if I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone” Belinda and I nod impulsively wanting to know more. “Well” Helvi continues “The droid is filling in for a person while that person is carrying out some very dangerous work”. “And who and what is that?” Belinda prompts. “Come close you two and I’ll whisper it to you” Helvi says as she draws us in and her eyes narrow. “It’s psst psst psst psst and he is doing psst psst psst” “What? You’re joking” I exclaim unable to control myself. “Merv is a droid and the real Merv is Malcolm Turnbull’s image consultant…..”. And so the plot thickens.