5. The Wabbit and the Stick in The Sea

The sky lightened and the beach beckoned. A hop was in order so before retiring to a bar they made their way along the shore. "There was a bar, wasn't there?" asked Lapinette. The Wabbit hopped onwards. "I saw one."  They walked further. Lapinette pouted, "Surely it was closed?" The Wabbit laughed. "We can leave money." They headed further along the beach. There was a man on the edge of the water, digging in the sea with a stick. "Isn't that the man of whom we spoke?" said the Wabbit. "I hardly think so," replied Lapinette, "that's an old legend. This isn't the beginning of the world and the sky and the earth are far apart." The Wabbit shrugged. "Maybe he's doing it for fun." Lapinette nodded and they continued their hop. "Why do you think it's called the Island of Love?" asked the Wabbit. "It's a secluded spot," responded Lapinette. "Young courting couples come here and ... well ..." She paused and smiled. "Get flirty?" The Wabbit completed her sentence for her. They giggled and hugged. On their return they found the man had made a substantial hole, but he was nowhere to be seen. Only the stick remained. It was stuck in the sand,  pointing at an angle. "What do you think?" asked Lapinette. "I guess that's the way to the bar," grinned the Wabbit.  

4. The Wabbit and the Island of Love.

The shadow reached out and touched each of them. Both the Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves on an island - but where was it? "Not much of a place for a reception," scowled the Wabbit. Lapinette nodded in agreement. Then the Voice spoke to them once more. "This is the Island of Love. People have no shadow here." The Wabbit and Lapinette looked all around. "But who are these people?" The voice seemed to smile even though it was only a voice. "They come on boats and leave their shadows behind on their vessel. When they return, they get them back." The people picked their way around the island, looking for something that they couldn't find. Some were couples, some were alone. They drifted around aimlessly. Some picked up sticks, drew messages in the sand then threw the sticks in the sea. But the sticks always floated back to join the untidy heaps of other sticks. "This practice is of great antiquity," said the Voice, "and the sticks have a symbolic function who's meaning we cannot determine." Lapinette nodded gravely. "Perhaps an old man at Creation found himself trapped between Heaven and Earth. He used the stick to push the sky away." The Wabbit put his word in. "That's how sticks became bent." The Voice was silent. Then he said, "There you have it." The Wabbit pounced. "We'll have that drink now."

Thomas (1985), Paris, Chiron.

3. The Wabbit is followed on The Bus

The Wabbit and Lapinette took the bus from the Gianicolo Hill but the shadow of his ears was still there. "It's still there Lapinette," said the Wabbit, "and now it has eyes." Lapinette looked exasperated. "Where is it?" she asked. "Outside the bus, " replied the Wabbit. "What's it doing?" said "Lapinette. "Looking in, said the Wabbit. "It can't be!" said Lapinette. "We lost it when we got on the bus."  The Wabbit grimaced. "It hung on, I don't know how." It was the Wabbit's opinion that Rome buses jolted more than they had to. "It should have fallen off and been crushed under a lorry." Lapinette began to sing softly. "Me and my shadow. Bussing down the avenue." Passengers looked up. "It's not funny!" yelled the Wabbit. "Yes it is!", said a passenger. "Stay out of it, it's my shadow," grumbled the Wabbit. The eyes stared at the Wabbit. He stared back and made a face. The eyes jiggled. "You're not a real shadow," he exclaimed. "I am so!" replied the shadow. It was a bit muffled by traffic noise and sounded like "Yam Shochu." The Wabbit brightened. "Yam Shōchū?" He turned to Lapinette. "We're being invited for a Japanese drink." Lapinette nodded. "Don't mind if I Shōchū."

2. The Wabbit and the Frozen Prosecco

The Wabbit made for the Gianicolo Hill, but he kept glancing behind him. He sensed a presence but couldn't make out what it was. "Hello Wabbit!" Sometimes Lapinette could make him jump and he did. "Wanna drink, Wabbit?" The Wabbit couldn't resist prosecco, but he noticed the bottle Lapinette was carrying was frozen. Lapinette read his thoughts. "It says cold drinks, Wabbit" The Wabbit laughed. "Not frozen, Lapinette." Lapinette blew on the bottle and it gently lost its icy coating and the contents settled at drinking temperature. "Before I get glasses," she said, "What's that shadow following you?" The Wabbit looked behind him, then shrugged. "It looks like your ears, said Lapinette. "Just my ears?" asked the Wabbit, "Not my whole shadow?" Lapinette pirouetted. "Just ears." The Wabbit pondered. "That must mean something. The shadow represents unintegrated parts of myself!" Lapinette made to get the glasses. "Perhaps you should listen more!" "What did you say?" smiled the Wabbit. He watched her disappear behind the doors and could hear prosecco being poured. "Who are the four Romans?" "You think you're very funny," said Lapinette. But the ears appeared behind the Wabbit and spoke. "They're Galba, Otho, Vitellius and Vespasian - and they're not half as funny as me!" 

1. The Wabbit and a Ghost in the Machine

The Wabbit looked up at Lapinette from the floor of the Centrale Montemartini Museum. He was dwarfed by the machinery and knew it. A faint smile played around his face as if it didn't know whether to come or go. He shrugged. She shrugged back. Lapinette knew what he was thinking. He was thinking he didn't care about the next adventure. He was tired as the old machinery, and his limbs ached. At least the turbines were getting a rest. He waved to Lapinette and she waved back. "What shall we do now?" she called. The Wabbit shrugged again. "Paint the town red?" he quipped. She started down the stairs. "Got any red paint?" He blinked and she shimmered in the light and vanished. He'd been talking to himself again and he wondered if it was a touch of madness like the Mad March Hare. It was then that he heard it. A tinkering sound that came from the depths of the turbine. It seemed to be shouting "Let me out! I haven't been greased, and my system has seen no oil for eons." The Wabbit had quite enough of ghosts, either in or out of the machine. "Begone! You're merely a trope," he said. "A trope, am I?" said the voice, "Get me out or the trope will be on you." "Hah!" said the Wabbit and he made for the door. "Stop!" cried the voice and a shadow emerged - a shadow such as the Wabbit had never seen.

The Wabbit and his Adventure Caffè

A slap-up lunch was called for and the Wabbit said he would host it. Skratch was late as usual, but unapologetic. Wabsworth and Lapinette arrived first or so they thought. The Wabbit had concealed himself by the serving area and he called out, "Welcome everyone." Lapinette knew he was there all along. "I thought you weren't coming Wabbit," she smiled. It was a hot day, and the sun bleached the sidewalk. The Wabbit laughed. "Me? Miss the Adventure Caffè? Not likely ... Here's Skratch!" Skratch arrived late to make an entrance. "Ask me the question," he cried. "OK, Skratch my turn!" said Wabsworth, "What was that for a sort of adventure?" Skratch pretended to ponder. "It was about imagining the future." Lapinette pounced. "A future that's already here!" The Wabbit rapped his paw on a chair. "I don't think that matters. It's a design fiction. We created a narrative imaginary world. A map of sorts." Lapinette smiled. "A disarticulated form. It questions the narratological shape between fiction and reality." "If indeed we can speak of a reality," meaowed Skratch, "that Umberto Eco would have questioned in specularity." Wabsworth snorted. "Yet possible worlds have been around since Aristotle." Skratch grunted. "Maybe but possible worlds are stipulated, we don't need binoculars." The Wabbit's head was beginning to spin. "Does that stipulation get us a drink any quicker?" Skratch laughed. "You know Wabbit, it just might."

[I'm indebted to Mirko Gentile in 'Where are the flying cars? Exploring the role of SF in the construction of experiential futures.' Lexia Journal of Semiotics 45-46] 

6. The Wabbit and the Fresh Beach

Turbina's jet exploded with a blast that would awaken the dead. The blast included the extra odours at which Turbina was adept. He moved at the speed of light. The beach looked pleasant, but the cushion was still there. "I thought you were sending us back," said the Wabbit. The cushion curled into a shape that the Wabbit didn't like. "We wanted to make sure you were back and that you stayed well and truly back. Do not pester us with your maleficent odours again." The cushion began to dissipate and before long it had disappeared entirely. Wabsworth grinned. "What was that all about?" The Wabbit looked cheerful. "I don't rightly know, but here we are." He called to a beach bar for two proseccos. "This place looks familiar," observed Wabsworth. "Fregene," stated the Wabbit. "Quiet," said Wabsworth. "End of the summer," replied the Wabbit. Wabsworth looked at the Wabbit with horror. "It's 34 degrees, the sun is shining and the beach is sultry." The Wabbit merely shrugged. "It's the end of the summer and that's why no-one is here." Wabsworth leaned back and took in the scene. "I'm glad I'm an android, I'll never understand humanity," he murmured. "So what about me?" said Turbina, "I'm parked illegally on the beach." The Wabbit threw back his head and roared with laughter. "This is near Rome and frankly we don't give a damn." "I see our proseccos coming," said Wabsworth. "I want one too," said Turbina. "Non-alcoholic?" asked the Wabbit. "Have you lost all reason?" said Turbina.   

5. The Wabbit and the Smelly Kinkdom

Clouds billowed in! They found themselves surrounded by air cushions and they were none too happy. The one on the right had a ferocious expression and he smelled quite rank. "This is the Cloud Kinkdom and we argue all the time about how kinky we are," said the first air cushion. Turbina butted in. "Perhaps you could argue about how to reduce your smell."  They started to argue again. "That's the whole point," said the second, and he let out an enormous fart. "I'm getting out of here," said Turbina, but she couldn't make her wheels move. "I'm going to fire up all my gases, then have a right good clean up." Wabsworth covered his nose. She was as good as her word. All her turbine waste came pouring out. The first air cushion was aghast. He'd never smelled anything like it. "Styuck, yuk poo," he exclaimed. The second merely keeled over in a dead faint. "How do you manage!" he groaned. "Oh, we do, it's hard but we do," said the Wabbit. Secretly he gave a thumbs up to Turbina. Wabsworth encouraged her. "What about your second stage emissions?" he asked. Turbina emitted the ghastliest smell the Wabbit had ever known. His  fur curled like a snake stepped on it - but he didn't show it. "We're sending you back," said the cushion entities. The clouds cleared. They were sitting on a beach with clear air all around. "That blew me away," joked the Wabbit. Turbina erupted. Her wheels span and a sea of sand sprayed. "If it happens again, I'll blow you away, Commander!"

4. The Wabbit and the Air Kinkdom

The Air Cushion Entity took them across Rome and into a heavily guarded building. "Take no notice," he chortled, "This is all my domain. You are recognised as acceptable." Turbina made a comfortable landing. "What do we do now?" asked the Wabbit. "Nothing," said the Cushion entity. He settled into the waiting grooves. They seemed to have been made for him. The Wabbit noticed how kinky they were. "Are you always this kinky?" he asked, "I strive to be," said the Cushion. "Can you be kinky on your own?" asked Wabsworth. "I am many and we may take on whatever form we wish." The Cushion as adamant. "Would you like a refreshment?" "I thought you'd never ask," replied the Wabbit. The Wabbit was enveloped in a fine spray of Prosseco and so was Wabsworth. "This is kinky," said Wabsworth. He turned on his Prosecco enjoyment sub routine. "I'm all sticky," muttered Turbina. The Cushion responded by showering the car interior with a fragrant anti-static cleaning material. "What about a sandwich?" asked Turbina. "I only do liquids," laughed the Cushion. "I have a pulverised version." Turbina shuddered. The Wabbit fished in his fur and handed Turbina a salad sandwich. "Emergency rations," he grinned. The Wabbit looked around. "What takes place here?" "Very little," hooted the cushion, "it's a place to be." The Wabbit and Wabsworth got out of Turbina. The Wabbit struggled a bit, "Doesn't get any easier, does it?" grunted Wabsworth, "But would you like another prosecco?" The Wabbit leaped out with ease.

3. The Wabbit, Turbina and the Cushion

The Wabbit and Wabsworth didn't have time to visit any bar. Turbina coasted down and her doors opened. She yelled "Get in, get in." They were hardly settled in their seats when she took off. Her jet blasted - and inside seconds they were in EUR. "I've got to get your air cushion, Wabbit." The Wabbit knew things were serious if Turbina called him Wabbit and not Commander. "Why?" asked the Wabbit. "It's not what it seems!" replied Turbina. "What does it seem like?" asked Wabsworth. There was a silence as Turbina thought. "It seems like an entity." "An air cushion entity?" The Wabbit was curious. "It has properties," said Turbina," Look what it's doing! Attaching to my radiator. It might drain my precious liquids." Just then the air cushion detached from Turbina's radiator and started on the windows. "I don't need a wash and brush up," squealed Turbina. The Wabbit watched as the entity fixed itself to the air caps on the tyres. Then the entity spoke. "I have checked your systems and you are now deemed acceptable to enter the Air Kinkdom of Above. I will take you there." The cushion expanded and enveloped Turbina in a major cloud. The Wabbit shrugged and looked at Wabsworth. "Call it developmental research in fluid mechanics," he said. "Did he say Kinkdom?" asked the Wabbit. Wabsworth nodded gravely. "We could all do with straightening out," said the Wabbit. Wabsworth was inclined to agree. "All this moisture but no mention of a drink," sulked the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Air Cushion

The Wabbit and Wabsworth got to work on the new system and took it to a friendly shopping centre. They'd managed to persuade Turbina the Jet car to test it out and although she was reluctant at first, she saw sense in the enterprise. For a week's supply of salad sandwiches, she agreed to take part. Shoppers thought it was a raffle and tried to give Wabsworth money. He gave everyone a receipt and smiled nicely. At first all went well. They injected the air cushion and Turbina rose in the air. The Wabbit grinned and patted the hood. Wabsworth kicked the tyres and lit the fires. Turbina engaged her engine, and she floated round in a circle. "So far, so good," said the Wabbit. Turbina wasn't so happy. "I've no control of height, Commander." The Wabbit nodded. "We're working on that." Turbina could be bad- tempered. "Better work on it quick, I'm going to have to engage my jet with the new lattice drive." Wabsworth shook his head. "Not inside the shopping centre, please." Turbina powered up. The blast broke several windows and sent three men's suits spiralling into the air. Turbina continued to rise. An enterprising member of staff opened the sliding roof windows and Turbina shot right through them. "What next?" Turbina was remarkably calm. The air cushion began to disintegrate and disappeared into the atmosphere. Turbina flew in the sky above Valle Aurelia. Her voice crackled over the supermarket loudspeakers. "Your idea needs work, Commander." "Back to the drawing board," murmured the Wabbit. "I know a nearby bar," said Wabsworth. 

1. The Wabbit and the need for Tyre Sales

The Wabbit was passing the tyre shop in Via Gregorio VII. He always looked in with fascination and considered the continuing need for tyres. Couldn't vehicles just glide on cushions of air? There would be no wear and rear, he thought, no need for a tread, no blowouts, no inflation, deflation or any other kind of ation. The Wabbit considered it a little longer and came upon a problem. Without friction, how would the automobile stop? He wanted to ask the man in the garage but it was deserted and there was no-one there to ask. He thought for a bit and then he hit upon an idea. Hover cars. The cars would use anti- gravity technology and hover a metre from the ground. The Wabbit remembered an article in Popular Mechanics and a book by an Australian author. He determined he'd discuss it with Wabsworth and began hopping in his direction. As it happened, Wabsworth had a long-abandoned prototype in the back of the shed. Maybe they could dig it out and modify it. The Wabbit had some old bits too. Liberated from Denny Shipyard in the Clyde, they had lain about at the back of The Department of Wabbit Affairs for years. They were highly usable, at least on water. Why not on land? With a spring in his hop, the Wabbit made his way to see Wabsworth. 

The Wabbit goes to his Adventure Caffè

The team assembled at a shopping centre before going on to an Adventure Caffè. It was nearly lunchtime and the Wabbit felt peckish. He turned in the direction of the bars - all of which were outside. Restaurants within were far from good. He had no wish to indulge in the young people's passion for fake tapas, nor indeed a glutinous hamburger from the Wild West Emporium. "You don't want a bam-bam burger?" asked Wabsworth. "I'd rather Tom Mix shot a cigarette out my mouth," replied the Wabbit. Skratch guffawed. "The Wabbit is old enough to remember Tom Mix as a boy!" The Wabbit drawled. "I recall the day when Tom and I helped Wyatt Earp at the OK Canal." "That's Corral, Wabbit," grinned Lapinette. The Wabbit sniggered to himself. "What was that for a kind of adventure you had with Lapinette," asked Wabsworth. Lapinette sniggered too. "It was one of these filler adventures where no-one knows quite what to do." Skratch meaowed furiously. "I found it rather pleasant. Filler stories can subtly explore social issues through allegorical or symbolic means." Wabsworth laughed. "That sounds like artificial intelligence material, Skratch. I could have invented that for your good self." Skratch was delighted. "That's delightfully reflexive of you, Wabsworth." The Wabbit smiled. "If you're reflexing, Wabsworth. it's time for you to buy the drinks."

7. The Wabbit and the Pleasant Bar

There was little in the way of impact. The Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves in a pleasant beach bar. It was more than pleasant. Lapinette had to admit that. A voice hailed them from the Lepus. "Ahoy there!" called Jenny, "This be a deserted bar in the Med. It be having all mod cons for a holiday destination." Lapinette smiled. But she had not forgotten. "Where the market?" The Lepus answered. "There be an African gentleman along in a second carrying all your market needs upon his back." The Wabbit grinned. "Such as?" Jenny's voice echoed out. "Things for threading things to other things." The Wabbit laughed. "I need one of these things." Lapinette called out. "Anything else?" Jenny answered. "You may purchase any of the furniture before it be washed away. " The Wabbit was quick. "I want that table with all the drawers in the side." Lapinette hesitated. "Where will you put it?" "In my shed," came his reply. "Before it becomes driftwood," he added. "How much?" asked Lapinette. "Be making an offer," called Jenny. "Five euro," said Lapinette. "It be for charity," called Jenny. "Six euro," said Lapinette. "You be driving a hard bargain," said Jenny, "But how do you propose transporting it."  Lapinette made a tutting noise, "On your ship." Jenny 's voice was soft. "There be shipping costs." The Wabbit put his oar in. "We wouldn't want to rock the boat." Jenny's voice came back at once. "These jokes be so fishy that I'll do it for free." "More than we can afford," quipped the Wabbit. 

6. The Wabbit and the Torpedo Bar

The Wabbit and Lapinette found themselves coasting at speed. just above the water. They were between the line laid out by timbers and heading straight for a dilapidated structure. "There it is!" Lapinette was excited. The Wabbit wondered when he was going to get a prosecco. "It looks like something left over from yesteryear," commented the Wabbit. "There will be a bar, I know there will!" Lapinette always seemed to be cheerful. The Wabbit desisted from being grumpy. "The voice said there was only vodka, and I expect it will be the very best." Lapinette proclaimed it would be yummy and ice cold. The Wabbit could confirm that from the temperature of the water. "Baltic cold," he nodded. They skimmed along grazing the timbers. "Maybe there will be a welcoming party," murmured Lapinette. The Wabbit could only imagine. "It looks wartime," said the Wabbit, "Maybe we came back in time and the party will be composed entirely of frogmen." "And women," added Lapinette. They were getting closer and could see that not much remained. "Just enough to make bijou dwellings," snorted the Wabbit. "What's the opposite of bijou?" asked Lapinette. "Gargantuan," said the Wabbit. Suddenly they were being pulled by a giant force. "We're about to find out," said Lapinette, "Brace for impact."