Between

Episode 27

Episode 27

The Rills harmonized perfectly through their latest lament of landslides and being caught therein.

"Must we hear this song again?" Trixie moaned.

Philo was riding astride the neck of the middle head of his three-headed partner, and they had been flying/swimming through the void that seemed to make up most of The Between for nearly an hour. At least, they would have been flying, swimming, or doing so for an hour if any of those words could actually be applied in a place with no air, no water, and no time. The time portion had at least some indicator now though, as it could be measured by "Bohemian Rhapsody." Rill had recently discovered a passionate love for music, and as a reward for behaving herself she'd been treated to nearly an entire album of Queen's finest tunes. As far as she was concerned, there may as well have been only two songs on the album. After an initial struggle to remember the words—which Philo helped her through—she'd been singing it virtually without interruption, pausing only to ask how she was doing and to interject some vocals from "The Philosopher's Song."

This was her ninth iteration, which it turned out was Trixie's limit.

"But look how happy she is when she sings it," Philo said.

All three heads were indeed virtually entranced, a deep and soulful joy on their faces. In the case of Left-Rill, it was possibly the first time anything even resembling happiness had graced her expression in more than brief flashes since Philo had met her.

"But surely our own sanity has to be considered at some point. Not to mention if she'd kept at least one of her heads on the destination, we'd probably be there by now."

"Hey, considering how certain you are we're going to get wrecked in this mission, I'd think you'd be happy for the respite."

"Listening to a worm belt out operatic classic rock is not how I would have chosen to spend my final hours."

"Well, how would you choose to spend your final hours?"

"What do you care?"

"I'm interested."

"But why?"

"Because you're interesting."

"See, most men I've dealt with are only genuinely interested in one or two parts of me."

"Right now I'm interested in the part between the ears."

"Champ, you really don't want to know what's going on in there. You won't like what you find. And I really don't think talking about how I want it all to end is going to put us in the right frame of mind to live through this."

"Just give me an idea of what your perfect day is."

Trixie sighed. "You just keep poking away at things, don't you, Champ?"

"Look, it's discuss what you've got on your mind or it's focus on the nuances of Freddie Mercury's lyrics as filtered through the triple trachea of a sea monster."

Right-Rill, having muscled her way into lead vocals out of sheer tenacity, crooned a soulful confession of homicide to a hypothetical mother.

"Fine!" Trixie declared, twisting sideways to face Philo. "Let's see... It starts with an orchestra."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Have you ever heard a demon orchestra?"

"I can't say I have."

She hugged herself, eyes shut and head tilted back. "The angels have the best choir, but give me a demonic set of horns and woodwinds any day. Gets the blood boiling, sets the mind on fire..."