5. The Wabbit and the Reclamoids

The robots looked twee but were far from that. The Chief Robot ticked off every item and barked in a stern voice. "I am Uberclerk Zzorp. Please clear your belongings in the shed provided." His underlings scuttled around, carrying their discarded objects to an unknown destination. "These are the Reclamoids. Do not impede them." Wabsworth looked at Zzorp with utter disdain. "Do you call yourself a robot, Sir?" Your demeanour is objectionable." He thumped a foot and turned to look at the Wabbit. The Wabbit shrugged in exasperation. Zzorp continued. "These objects have been discarded and are circulating without authorisation in controlled airspace. They are escaping our synergised memory audits. This is impermissible." The Wabbit shook a fist. It was all he could think of. "It's just old junk." Uberclerk Zzorp shook his head in a bumbling bureaucratic fashion. "Immaterial. Sentimental salvage tax applies. A thousand QUIDs each item." He stomped and cavorted. Lapinette batted her eyelashes. "Tell him." "About the reverse map?" snorted the Wabbit. Zzorp changed his tune. "You have a reverse map?" Reclamoids stopped scurrying. "Oh. You're interested, Zzorp?" Wabsworth's commanding tone was a sneer. Skratch had been a bystander but now he effected interest. "We could make a deal," he hissed, "But the maps are scarce as feathers on a fish." Zzorp grunted. "We'll only pay 15 QUID per item." Lapinette pirouetted. "Then we'll make an arrangement with the next reclamation plant on the next chunk of rock." Zzorp responded without thinking. "You know Uber Teller Tonk?" "Tonk has already offered TerraQUIDS," pouted Lapinette.

4. The Wabbit and the Nostalgia Zone

The three crowded into Quantum's cab as he whooshed through whatever substance it was. It looked like entrails of a sort but then lattice drive was a curious phenomenon. No-one really knew how it worked but work it did. Stringy things flashed by like worms on acid. Soon they found themselves in a strange and blurry world that cleared to reveal a curious structure. The reverse map had done its job, and they hadn't even used the magic pin. Random objects coasted by. Some things they recognised as things they had chucked out. The spark plug, the Wabbit has thrown over a fence because it hadn't worked once too often. The coffee pot was a cast off object which Lapinette had given up as a bad purchase. It stuck for the last time and filled the kitchen with burnt fug. Skratch recognised old toys which he's rooted out of a toy box and given to charity because he was tired of them. But the structure itself was worthy of consideration. It bulged and wallowed. Looking at it was somewhat difficult since it induced a mild nausea. "I have no idea where we are," said Skratch. "I feel sick," moaned Lapinette. "Don't look at the structure," said the Wabbit. Quantum boomed through his loudspeakers. "This is nostalgia world. It induces a sickly clam." The Wabbit laughed. "Don't you mean calm?" "No," replied Quantum. They heard a voice from the direction of the engine room. "Will someone let me out?" It was Wabsworth. "I'm stuck here with a soldering iron and more circuit boards than I care to remember." The Wabbit grinned. "If it smells like chicken, you're holding it wrong."

3. The Wabbit and Quantum's Big Take Off

With the map safely tucked away and stopping to collect Lapinette on the way, the Wabbit arranged for Quantum to make an appearance at the Coliseum. Tourists thought this was one of the mayor's shows. The three jumped aboard and the Wabbit gave the signal for take-off. Quantum was up for it and put on a show. He shimmered and rippled and twisted until the audience applauded with wild abandon. Skratch turned and pinned up the reverse map on a control panel. "Look at the sky," shrieked Lapinette, "The map is working already." "Wait until I get the magic pin out," meaowed Skratch. Quantum was a Time Travelling Train and proud of his prowess. "I can't wait until it shows us our destination," he boomed. "In the meantime where would you like to go?" The Wabbit was enjoying himself. "Take us on a tour of the city, Quantum." The big train wheeled round and at impulse speed, toured across Rome. He buzzed the Forum, shot across the Vatican, and skimmed the Pyramid of Cestius. The Pantheon swirled and blinked at him with its single eye. Skratch fumbled for the magic pin and with a growl from his engines, Quantum rolled back in time. Dinosaurs roamed; the Punic Wars passed in a second. Lapinette watched gladiators march. They caught a glimpse of Caesar as he met his doom. Skratch brought the magic pin level with the map. Quantum's lattice drive fired. Everything span. "Commander, I'm not in control," said Quantum. "It's the map!" hissed Skratch. "A bit more exciting than Google," shrugged the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Myriad Objects

The Chinese shop was, as usual, full of stuff. The Wabbit and Skratch the Cat ferreted around like ferrets. The Wabbit spotted something interesting. "That's a Mouse Mat, Wabbit," purred Skratch. "It's a reverse map mouse mat! It will do," replied the Wabbit. "Try and say that quickly," said Skratch. In his paw he clutched a box of bolts. He reached up for a large pin. It tingled when he touched it. "This might be magic," he said. "Ippety pippety pow," said the Pin. Skratch nodded. "This is the one." The Wabbit grinned and took the mouse map. "Let's pay for our purchases and be on our way." "Who's paying?" asked Skratch. "The Dinosaur Fund," said the Wabbit. "That still buoyant?" asked Skratch. "Euro hedged global short-term bonds," said the Wabbit. "Very fancy," growled Skratch. "Until last week," said the Wabbit. "Half our funds shifted briefly to real estate. Then back. Shaky foundations." Skratch shook his head. He believed all that was dangerously risky. "I'll stick with Mouse Investments." The Wabbit swept several more items into a basket. "What does the Magic Pin say." Silence fell. You could have heard a pin drop. "I wanted to be a banker," said the Pin, "But I kept losing interest." The Wabbit scowled. "I make the jokes around here." They all turned to go, but the Wabbit wanted one more thing. He grabbed a tube of glue. When Skratch looked at him he shrugged. "For when things all fall apart."

1. The Wabbit and the Chinese Shop

"Hey there, Commander!" Skratch the Cat could see the Wabbit heading across Via Leone VIII. He was displaying a determined walk, with his face set forward. He could be going to any number of interesting places thought Skratch. The Wabbit reached the other side of the road and Skratch pounced to his side. "Hello Skratch," said the Wabbit, "I'm heading to the Chinese shop for an unobtainable item. Then I fancy a prosecco. Join me?" Skratch never said no to such an offer. He meaowed. "What type of object do you fancy?" The Wabbit hopped speedily on. "I've no idea," he said. "They have everything." Skratch nodded. He knew the Wabbit collected odd bits and pieces and concealed them in his fur. "Are we between missions?" he asked. "We certainly are," replied the Wabbit, "I was wondering if we could fill in the time by making something impossible." Skratch thought for a second. This could go a number of ways, all of them fraught with dangerous outcomes. "Were you thinking of a bolt-on accessory for the control board of Quantum the Train?" The Wabbit's mouth dropped open. "I was, as it happened." Skratch's tail quivered with delight. "Something that could take us to uncharted territories where's there no need of a map?" The Wabbit smiled. "I was thinking of a bolt-on reverse map that might take us somewhere we never heard of - or even wanted to go." Skratch scurried forward. "It will require a magic pin!" The Wabbit made a mental list. "One reverse map, one magic pin. some bolts. Anything else?" "Sandwiches," purred Skratch. 

The Wabbit's famous Adventure Caffè

The team headed for Palombini's in EUR for their customary drink but were distracted by the market. "I didn't know there was a market here," said Wabsworth. "Every second Sunday," responded Lapinette. "I see a trader I know," remarked Wabsworth. "They go around," shrugged the Wabbit. The trader was a Calabrian with a special line in hot peppers that the Wabbit especially liked. They hopped a little farther. "Skratch, do the usual!" The Wabbit couldn't wait for Skratch to pronounce his special wisdom. "What was that for a special sort of adventure?" Skratch thrashed his tail. "It provided a means of commenting on society and its current mores. I'd say it does not fall into a genre." Lapinette grinned. "Maybe they all do. It's not new." Wabsworth wanted his word. "Strictly speaking they are folkways. Everyone agrees that they are so." The Wabbit groaned. "That doesn't mean they are. This was counter-hegemonic." Skratch hissed. "Counter hegemonic you say?" Lapinette was fast to offer her critique. "Perhaps the zombies as tourists do eat the flesh of society. Weighing down planes, polluting the atmosphere, using up any available accommodation. Turning our varied cuisine into pizza, pasta, tiramisu. They devour capacity and invert our world. Everyone carries two trolleys and does the same everything on the cheap." Skratch stepped back. "That's very sage, Lapinette." The Wabbit nodded his head. "Let's head to Palombini's." "What shall we have?" asked Wabsworth. "Prosecco Rosé?" quipped the Wabbit.

7. The Wabbit on Movie Location

The film was nearly finished and the Wabbit and Lapinette joined Wabsworth on location. "Just a few pick-ups," murmured the Wabbit, who was producing. Some of the cast cavorted around in their costumes and make up. Everything seemed chaotic but was all going ahead according to plan. "Where's our director, Skratch?" asked Lapinette. "He's with the second unit," smiled Wabsworth, "He couldn't bear to leave it alone." Lapinette giggled. A zombie touched the Wabbit on the shoulder and he jumped. "Do you think the audience will get the inference that it's the tourists who are the zombies?" he said. Lapinette advised him not to care. "Leave that to Skratch to analyse." Wabsworth waved to the camera crew. "Do you think it will win any awards?" The Wabbit was horrified. "I certainly hope not." Silence ensued. "That's the spirit Commander," shrugged Wabsworth, "That's for the cinephiles." The sun beat down on Rome. It was only May but the Wabbit considered changing his fur for something more tropical. "I know a bar near here," he said. "Wabbit it's only 9.30 am," gasped Lapinette. "I'm Scottish," said the Wabbit. "We don't have rules about drinking." Wabsworth shrugged. "I'll join you." Being an android, he had tuned his algorithms to synthesise alcohol at any time. "Where is this bar?" asked Lapinette. But the Wabbit was already on his way and so they fell in behind him.