Joe and Flashtease

Flashtease ran beaming down the steps of the sports-complex and joined Joe, who was waiting for him outside. The friends set off together along the walkway, passing columns and domes on either side while overhead trawling starships dotted the space-conurbation’s artificial pink sky.

What Joe gathered from the first excited flurry of report was that everyone was talking about the disturbance of the previous evening, and the valiant if unsuccessful part played by the pair of them had been highly praised, but by and large nothing had prevented business as usual from characterizing the morning so far. Even Flashtease’s own account frequently strayed from what Joe regarded as relevant information, veering instead into which particular female Mini-Flashes had commented approvingly on their heroics, or how the Flashball game had gone, or who had caused a fashion-stir by showing off new pants. Joe however, who was already resolved to try and understand as much as he could from the perspective of Flashtease’s culture, believed he might just be making inroads. This galaxy was no stranger to violent incursion, and although its residents had been enjoying a momentary peace, the norm for them up to that point had been never-ending conflict and incident sparked by the proximity of numerous opposing factions which crowded this corner of the cosmos. The Flash Club, Grindotron, Toothfire, Space-Screamer, The Back Garden…thinking of it that way, Joe suddenly felt almost arrogant for supposing the kidnap of four soothsayers by his renegade son would appear shocking or even out of the ordinary here.

“There’ll be plenty to talk about at tonight’s meeting, anyhow,” Flashtease concluded, though there was an extremely knowing look on his freckly features, and something else less-than-relevant seemed to be bubbling enthusiastically to the surface. “Everyone should be there. Including Petunia…!”

At which he proceeded to dance ahead in his short grey Mini-Flash tunic while singing at Joe a song, consisting exclusively of the girl’s name already stated, though its second syllable took up about three-quarters of the total runtime. Our hero however couldn’t help smiling. This was the Flashtease he had first met, and in the face of every good reason to become more serious that had since been foisted on the boy, Joe was happy to know the old Flashtease could still be there every now and then.

“All the joys of associating with you directly after a match,” remarked Joe at length. “She is single, Flashtease. A charming young lady of your own age. Maybe you should be considering what that might import for you, instead of coming to the drive-in with me every night.”

The other laughed merrily. “Oh, like I could compete!” he cried. “Cute sidekicks are just stepping-stones to girls like Petunia. I sure can’t offer the kind of personal explorations into The Four Heroes’ cause that she’s got in mind…!”

They had reached the elevator to the launch-bay. Joe gave a small sigh as they stepped inside, and in a very different tone of voice to before, replied: “Then I suspect she is wasting her time, for more reasons than one.”

The doors slid shut, enclosing Joe and Flashtease in a suddenly awkward hush.

“Um,” the latter ventured. “Are you thinking about Neetra?”

They were alone, and Joe could think of no-one better these days to share his worries with than Flashtease. It was just that he had never talked about this.

“Afterwards,” our hero began slowly, “we did not have the opportunity to…discuss, how it went.”

“Oh,” returned Flashtease. Then, after a pause, he continued delicately: “So, um, how do you think it went?”

“I think she was better at it than me,” Joe admitted at last, all too aware how lame and feeble his words sounded in the confined space. “Even though I had had more practice.”

“Well, that’s girls for you,” Flashtease put in at once, sagely. “It’s just like that here. You should see how hard Flashthunder trains at Flashball, but it doesn’t do him any good at all when we’re playing against them. Actually, not to boast but I’m the only boy Mini-Flash I know who’s really coping with the new gender, at least when it comes to gym class.”

“Flashtease,” commenced Joe in response. “It may be that we have discovered a field in which I am lamentably unskilled. What, then? I am the first of The Four Heroes. Together we saved our world on more occasions than I am now able to count. It will scarcely detract from my other credentials and accomplishments, should it indeed transpire I happen to be among the individuals who struggle with this unrelated area. So wherefrom, Flashtease, these wracking doubts that somehow it must? Is there some arbitrary trans-galactic societal expectation heaped upon those who assume the name of hero? Or is it that I demand too much of myself? Why do so many perceived obstacles stand in the way of my accepting the possibility I am simply not very good at that one thing?”

The question in all fairness was a little beyond Flashtease, and as it was posited more to the universe in general than to him personally, Joe was unsurprised when no ready reply came back. Just then the doors slid open, and he gave his companion a fond shove out of the elevator.

“The Foretold One on the rampage, and you have me dwelling on this subject,” Joe declared. “Come, Flashtease. We have business on Eshcaton.”

They crossed to where their interplanetary two-seater was parked and climbed inside, Joe opening his door and Flashtease jumping straight over the other with typical disregard for what his tunic did. Engines roared, and the duo blasted off from spaceport.

A planetwide cordon had been established around Eshcaton, and the stormy sphere of that dark mysterious world was surrounded by an orbital sensor-ray net at whose intersections sat small checkpoint-satellites. Joe dutifully steered the racer at the nearest of these.

“My son’s motive for this kidnapping remains unclear,” our hero explained to Flashtease, “and though the Alliance is wise to maintain strict security, they do not know Harbin as I do. Doubtless some clue as to his diabolical design remains on the planet’s surface, in the temple perhaps, awaiting those of sufficient insight to detect it. If we can render assistance to your galaxy’s authorities in determining the reason these most venerable citizens were abducted, it should speed us all to locating them and so bringing about their rescue.”

The inspection-post was manned by Mini-Flash Crimsonhead, so named for the vivid colour of her hair, while her beige tunic and boots were those of an entry-level neophyte one stratum of seniority below Flashtease. He, as they pulled up alongside, sketched in the purpose of their visit and masterfully instructed the girl to let them through.

“Oh, Flashtease, wait a moment,” said Mini-Flash Crimsonhead, and began to flick quickly through her holo-monitors as if in search of something specific. She seemed oddly flustered. Finally finding what she was after, the novice whipped back around to her window and proceeded to recite directly from the screen:

“The Flash Club-Toothfire Alliance thanks you again for your efforts during last night’s crisis. Flashtease, a special note has been made on your permanent record, and Joe of The Four Heroes, we commend you for your public-spiritedness. However, as the investigation will be carried out through official channels only, we regret to inform you that all unauthorized access to Eshcaton is suspended at this time. The Vernderernder High Command and Flash Club leader Storm-Sky apologise for any inconvenience.”

Flashtease’s freckles were rapidly turning into sunspots on a supernova. “Do you mean to say you’re not going to let us pass?” he spluttered. “Us? After we practically saved the day singlehanded? Or at least, we would have done if anyone did! Some of us were fighting for our lives while those top-brass Vernderernders were enjoying an after-hours lube job, and you were back at the drive-in probably getting your tonsils inspected!”

Joe however had been attentive enough to mark the fitful glance, almost a downright frightened one, which Mini-Flash Crimsonhead had darted not at her indignant peer but rather in his direction alone. “Please, Flashtease, I’d get in trouble, those are my orders,” the little girl begged.

“Why, we ought to yank your prissy pink knickers up over that crimson head of yours and drive straight by, maybe only stopping to run you over a bit!” flung back Flashtease, unmoved by her plight. Joe rested a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Conduct not quite suitable for defenders of The Four Heroes’ cause,” he reminded him, and then to the other continued: “We shall, of course, abide by the Alliance’s ruling. Carry on, Mini-Flash Crimsonhead. Flashtease, let us depart.”

So saying Joe did the only thing possible for him to do, which was reverse the racer and set off back the way he and his companion had come.

They sought the space-lounge where Joe hosted his nocturnal gatherings. Arriving early, and waiting in an afternoon lull for others to show up, was not the best way to put their disappointment out of mind. Indeed, what they had been told in Eshcaton-orbit remained an oppressive presence hanging over the dull room, and though Flashtease was still some distance from cooling off, Joe’s reasons for being troubled went considerably further than the flurry and hormones of his young companion.

“Well, I still say it’s just the purple pim!” that one declaimed, not for the first time. “Acting as if they don’t need The Four Heroes’ cause to fight The Foretold One! I suppose Mini-Flash Crimsonhead would like it if we never found out what he’s up to, and he got away with it!”

“That must not be allowed to happen, my friend,” Joe reassured him. “And yet, we must abide by the laws of your sector. The Four Heroes have no official status here. It is not as it was back home in Nottingham, where…well, we had no official status either. But we had saved that world.”

“You saved this galaxy!” Flashtease erupted. “I don’t know why they’re ignoring that!”

“Perhaps it is because we also brought our war here,” Joe replied solemnly. “That much was written on your small friend’s lineaments, Flashtease. I saw it was so when she looked at me. She had been warned that I am dangerous. Do not neglect that of your heroes of the hour, one is father to the man who has committed this violation against your society.”

“So you reckon The Foretold One’s just a Planet Earth thing?” Flashtease responded in plain terms. “A Four Heroes thing? Joe, my galaxy’s been living with him for thousands of years! Our oldest belief-systems only came about in the first place to prepare us for what he’s starting to do right here and right now! You and Harbin aren’t some menace that came from outside – you’re both part of this quadrant’s destiny. If the alliance can’t or won’t see how you fit into it, that’s their lookout. But you know that big crowd of tunics and petticoats that fills up this lounge whenever you throw a meeting? We see. I mean, why do you think so many of us Mini-Flashes get our pants over to this space-rock every single time?”

Joe, having no counterargument to this, patted his friend on the hand.

“You are, of course, correct,” said he. “Indeed, you hit upon the very reason I am sorely distressed by these events.”

This time the Mini-Flash did not understand, so Joe explained:

“Those who witness my son in action, Flashtease, are seldom in a position to appreciate his cold scholastic intelligence. He is a born researcher, like his mother,” Joe added ruefully. “It is in his nature to learn all that is possible about the epochs to which he time-travels, and when he acts, every outcome pending to that deed has already been meticulously considered and evaluated. As you and I have been forced to acknowledge this day.”

Still Flashtease didn’t quite see his point. Joe went on:

“Blockades and exclusion policies are indubitably representative of Vernderernder thinking, my friend. But Storm-Sky? He is known to be a man of wisdom and discipline. Surely he might have been expected to introduce a note of moderation into alliance proceedings? And yet, he cannot be blamed. Among the taken was his own master, Manual. Such dishonour has driven good men to extreme measures before.”

Here Joe’s tones became intent, as he continued:

“Harbin’s goal, Flashtease, is the eradication of The Four Heroes’ cause. And at a time when I am striving to propagate that cause amongst a following made up largely of young Flash Club members, my son in one decisive move turns the leader of that body against me. How many of our circle, and how many potential new recruits, will now be deterred by Storm-Sky’s interdictions as Mini-Flash Crimsonhead has already been? I have no illusions that this was Harbin’s only objective. But it was intended. He is exulting in this first triumph even as we speak.”

Our hero’s expression was resolute.

“We must gain the temple on Eshcaton somehow, Flashtease,” he declared. “All the answers we seek are there.”

The two friends sat back, and for some moments observed the weighty silence that this pronouncement commanded. Then, suddenly, both started in their seats as one. This was forgivable, as it would have made anyone jump if a girl had been sitting at the table listening to the whole of their conversation, and they had not noticed her until now.

“Flashshadow,” said Flashtease, trying to catch his breath. “I’ve asked you to stop doing that!”

The slim misty Mini-Flash, hued all over in the shades of summer dusk, was murmuring something inaudible while she stared fixedly down with her great mane of evening-cloud hair obscuring most of her face. Joe and Flashtease leaned in to her, concentrating hard, for even under these circumstances it was all too likely the sight and sound of Flashshadow might slip unregistered from their perception.

Flashtease, who was more accustomed to her than Joe was, presently translated in a whisper of excitement:

“She says she knows a way to get us into the temple!”