4. The Wabbit and the Factory Doors

It was only a hunch but the Wabbit was drawn to the old factory doors. He could smell the distinctive odour of WD40 that he used in copious quantities. Followed by Lapinette and Mo he crept up to the door and gently slid it to the side. He looked inside. In the stygian gloom he saw nothing. They drew their automatics - all except for Mo. He didn't have one, having nowhere to put it. "Can you see anything?" whispered Lapinette. "Not a thing," said the Wabbit. Even his special powered glasses couldn't penetrate the darkness. But his ears twitched at the slightest sound. He could hear a faint drilling noise. Wheee wheee wheee. The Wabbit had retro-fitted To so he knew the sound of a drill biting into To's titanium shell. "He looked at Lapinette. "It's them," he said softly. Lapinette put her automatic away and fished in her frock for her edged weapon. "Stealth?" she whispered. The Wabbit pushed his automatic into his fur. "You do stealth and I'll do head-on stupidity." He turned to Mo. "What's that whistling noise you make?" Mo grinned. "You mean ..?" He put his lips together. "No not now," hissed the Wabbit, "Only when I give the word, whistle loudly." Mo was delighted. "I'll whistle like ... Ronnie Ronaldo." Lapinette stifled a giggle. "Here we go!" said the Wabbit. He thrust the door fully open and it made a mighty clang. "Health and Safety Inspectorate!" he shouted. The drilling stopped. Everything went quiet. "Reports of noise pollution," cried the Wabbit. He signalled to Mo, who launched into If I were a Blackbird with enormous gusto. Lapinette slipped into the building, melting into the walls. "Imitating a bird without due authority," shouted the Wabbit. He strode through the door ...

[Background image by Dimitris Vetsikas of Pixabay. Song: If I were a blackbird by Ronnie Ronaldo.]

3. The Wabbit and the Joking Passengers

One passenger dropped in beside him and there was another on the way as Wabsworth and Lapinette launched from a high building. "Hello," said Wabsworth as if that was the most normal thing in the world. "Good of you to drop in," said the Wabbit. Lapinette summersaulted into the seat beside the Wabbit. "We've come to search for Mo!" "To!" yelled Mo, "we're differentially different if you don't mind." Lapinette was just winding Mo up. She smiled and gripped on tight as the Wabbit swung round and headed back across the city. "Where are they, where are they?" muttered the Wabbit. "Have you tried Borgo Dora?" said Lapinette, "there's plenty of grotty workshops down there. They pack heat." The Wabbit thought that a little unkind. All the same, it was true. He wrenched the wheel to the left and roared down Corso Giulio Cesare. "Did you put the jeep in for a service like I said?" asked Lapinette. "No, they ran out," said the Wabbit. "Ran out of what?" sighed Lapinette. "Ran out of brake fluid," said the Wabbit. "Was the mechanic on his break?" continued Wabsworth. "Mo was getting tired. "The badinage is bad," he yelled, "let's find To." The Wabbit turned left on Via Dora and hurtled along the grass to avoid pedestrians. Then he swerved into the Railway Museum (where he was forbidden to go) and headed up the old abandoned railway track. "This doesn't go anywhere, Wabbit," said Lapinette. The Wabbit turned left then right then left again and screeched to a halt. Mo slid into his back. "Confused?" asked the Wabbit. "And dazed," replied Mo...

2. The Wabbit and the City Drive

The Wabbit was enjoying himself. He steered his jeep through Torino as if the Hounds of Hell were on his tail. But it was Mo that was on his tail. Mo's shell spun wildly and gave him more than enough speed to follow the Wabbit. A smile creased the Wabbit's face. He hoped his mad driving would bring the culprits out from the shadows. If they'd taken To, there was every chance they'd try for Mo as well. He found himself by Crocetta market, which he had on his list. "Oi there, Wabbit," yelled Mo, "what you usin' for brakes on that thing?" The Wabbit didn't have anything much in the way of brakes. He'd meant to get them fixed but that was yesterday. He contented himself by using the engine, which had the advantage of being very noisy. Squeals and roars bounced from buildings and flew high into the rooftops. The Fiat Campagnola also had massive torque and the Wabbit used all of it as he swerved round market stalls. He cut a corner a bit fine and a letterbox flew into the air. "Cool," yelled Mo. The Wabbit mentally prayed the box been recently emptied. He span the wheels. "See anything suspicious," he yelled. "Every bleedin' thing's suspicious," shouted To. The Wabbit grinned and shot into the air. "Illegal chop shops!" he yelled. "I ain't hungry," screamed Mo. The Wabbit slewed past a gaggle of teenagers and he heard them cry, "There's the Wabbit with his retro-fitted snail." That pleased him because he knew it would draw interest. "Now we'll find them," he shouted. Mo slowed a bit. "Over there! Look!" The Wabbit glanced to the left as a familiar figure leapt into the passenger side. 

1. The Wabbit and the Missing Snail

The Wabbit was surprised to see Mo on the bridge. Mo was in search of the Wabbit and he looked frantic. Leaving his jeep to block the traffic, the Wabbit jumped out. "What's up Mo?" he asked. Then he added, "Where's To?" The two were always together and it was seriously unusual to see just one on his own. "Wabbit, thank goodness I found you!" said Mo, "To's gone missing." The Wabbit rocked back. "Missing? How long for?" Mo was very agitated and his shell spun round. "Twenty-four soddin' hours," he yelled. The MoTo snails were punk snails, retrofitted by the Wabbit to go very fast indeed. "I've looked everywhere," said Mo. "I've looked all over Pluto Park and up and down the rivaaaah. He's nowhere to be seen." The Wabbit thought for a minute. "He's been bleedin' taken," yelled Mo. "Hang on Mo, let's think," said the Wabbit. The only reason for a punk snail to be abducted was for its technology. The Wabbit had personally supervised the installation, but hadn't bargained for it falling into the wrong hands. Now his jeep was causing traffic problems and drivers were hooting horns and getting angry. So the Wabbit jumped back in. "Follow me!" he shouted. He executed a daring handbrake turn and shot down the road at great speed. Mo followed close behind. "Where are we going?" shouted Mo. "To get some bleedin' 'elp!" yelled the Wabbit. He found Mo's cockney swearing infectious and couldn't help matching it. On the way, he tried to think who could possibly be interested. He went through a plethora of possibilities. Agents of Rabit were at the top of his list, but it didn't seem like their style. "Put your foot on it, Wabbit!" shouted Mo. The Wabbit did exactly that and knocked down rows of cycling racks, traffic bollards, planters and poles as he whizzed through the city. "Ah-mazin'" chuckled Mo.

The Wabbit at his Adventure Caffè

The team assembled as usual. Wabsworth arrived first and was already tucking into croissants and coffee. Skratch was late was usual and hove up from behind. Lapinette arrived from ballet class. The Wabbit stood up to offer her a seat - but not before his paw snaked out to nab the croissant. "We should have arrived in a different order," meaowed Skratch, "but perhaps that Dark Matter Adventure affected everyone." The Wabbit choked on his croissant. Lapinette sat down with the grace of dancer. "Now that you're here Skratch, you can tell us what kind of adventure we had." Skratch purred mightily and everything shook. "Simple. You had an eco-space adventure." Wabsworth nodded his head. "Such a story is about the unconscious and hidden objects." Lapinette squealed with delight. "Dark Matter is so hidden we can't see it." The Wabbit chipped in. "A primal scene wish-fulfilment fantasy in which the obsessive quest for origins is demonstrated." Skratch nearly howled with delight. "In that sense, all our stories are of the unconscious! But it's a purposeful look at what is there, rather than what is absent." Lapinette pulled herself up to her full height. "Not to mention the penetrative aspect of space voyages. The infant is conceived and separated from the mother. All is revealed." Skratch became contemplative. "Yet at the same time, what the story is about - is repressed. What it is represses What am I?" Wabsworth chuckled. "That's deep, Skratch." Rumbling sounds came from deep inside the Wabbit's tummy. "I'm hungry!" he yelled.

[With thanks to : Annette Kuhn, ed. Alien Zone: Cultural Theory and Contemporary Science Fiction Cinema. London: Verso; NY: Verso (Routledge, Chapman & Hall), 1990]

8. The Wabbit and the Dark Matter Smell

The journey home was uneventful, but the achievements were great. So said Lapinette anyway. The Wabbit still had heartburn even if he had saved his planet. Orni the Ornithopter sailed into the Earth's atmosphere with some satisfaction. Lapinette started to wave and the Wabbit tried to look round - but his neck was stiff from the journey. The engine note was unmistakeable. "It's Wabsworth and Susan!" shouted Lapinette. The Wabbit waved too, although his neck was cricked. Susan wheeled into position to guide Orni in, and together they headed for Torino. "How's your fur, Wabbit?" Lapinette tried to find a comfortable position on the struts. "It's still slightly singed and smells of dark matter," said the Wabbit. He dusted what looked like soot from his fur. "I'm not sure dark matter has a smell," said Lapinette. The Wabbit crinkled his nose, "It smells of sulphur." Lapinette sniffed and nodded. "You're right. It does." Orni laughed. "It's thought to be bare sulphur ions." Lapinette thought that was very funny. "Evil smells like sulphur and venom." The Wabbit shrugged. "That's about 85 per cent of the atmosphere." "Explains all your enemies," laughed Lapinette. "I don't want to go home smelling of rotten eggs," sulked the Wabbit. "The planet will forgive you!" smiled Lapinette. Orni followed Susan on the long flight path that took them closer to Earth. "What do you call that thing your friend is piloting?" The Wabbit grinned. "It's a biplane." Orni dipped his wings, just like Susan. "Maybe I could have a whirling thing at the front?" The Wabbit held his sides and shook with mirth. "You'll need a rubber band!"
[Background image: NASA]

7. The Wabbit and the Tiny Red Giant

Orni the Ornithopter took off once more and they hurtled through space. The Wabbit was relieved there was only one of him and Lapinette, but that was the least of his worries. Orni steered a course towards a star. "U Cam is one bright star," said Lapinette. She shielded her eyes and so did the Wabbit. " It's a Red Giant," he said. He cringed because he knew what was coming. "Get ready," said Orni. "That gas shell is going to blow," yelled the Wabbit. Orni swooped closer. "Your suit will channel it - and the dark matter." The Wabbit's fur stood on end. It was exactly what was needed because his fur acted as both a shield and a magnet. Dark matter poured through the Wabbit and into the space of Camelopardalis Galaxy. The Wabbit flinched. He felt the energy. It gave him heartburn. "Is Camelopardalis short on dark matter?" he breathed. "Far too bright in my opinion, even if the star is tiny." Orni gave a sarcastic sigh. Lapinette was stunned but knowledgeable, quite aware of where they were. "This galaxy has a double star, Cam," she said. "Has it indeed?" said Orni, "shall we double down?" "No," said the Wabbit, "there's such a thing as gilding the lily." He still had heartburn and his fur gave off a faint smell of cordite. He pointed. "What's that stop sign?" Lapinette grinned. "I imagined it." Orni was most impressed. "The power of thought." He laughed so hard they nearly fell off. The Wabbit was miffed. "This galaxy doesn't look like it's supposed to." His long explanation ended in, "It's not a giraffe or a camel. Nor is it a leopard." Orni chortled. "The Chinese call it Purple Forbidden Enclosure." "I prefer giraffe," shrugged the Wabbit.

[Credit: Background:  ESA/Hubble/ NASA and H. Olofsson (Onsala Space Observatory)]