I Don't Seem So Bright in a Well-Lit Room

Chapter Twenty

"Many folk would never guess," Gradi Ohsa Vallasoupia-Gallor of the Veroseralien theatre troupe The Ilt-un-por-Ilt Players said in soft, healing tones, "But one of the great travelling theatre troupes was actually from Towerscape.

"Oh, I know, I know what you're thinking: Tophers in the arts? Impossible! But no no no...Uncle Vin-Vin's Vegabond Variety Void was, at one time, considered the best. Terribly violent shows. Terribly. At least one actor died per show. Sometimes the whole cast! Sometimes the odd audience member! Now that's ambition! Now that is passion! So inspiring."

Aye felt somewhat comforted by her dusty old voice. It sounded like a creaky door. The kind of creaky door that gives you candy and handmade pies. He still felt weak, but thanks to his Veroseralien hosts and a very welcome and accommodating intravenous drip, he was on the mend. He was newly hydrated and enjoying the feeling of blinking and swallowing again.

He sat up. He longed to finally find out what a sandwich-through-a-straw tasted like. It had been on his mind a lot.

"I am Gradi Ohsa Vallasoupia-Gallor of the Veroseral. You are aboard my theatre ship The Deck Dallop. We are humble nomads, performing all over the galaxy..." Grady sing-song-said.

"Will you take me back to the Shiv? Or maybe home to Lyme Node?" he interrupted quietly, trying to appear rude without appearing rude.

"Well. Y' see, I don't know where this Shiv ship is. If it was docked at Euphoria, it was probably blown to bits. Euphoria is gone. We had nothing to do with it. I'm sorry if you lost some loved ones. Oh, and we're not so welcome on Lyme Node. We steer clear of it. For now at least," she said. There was something slightly defensive in the way she said "We had nothing to do with it," and something slightly sinister in the way she said "For now at least". Aye was not fazed.

Aye also wasn't fazed by the apparent destruction of the Shiv. Something deep within the bowels of his bowels was telling him that the ship had escaped. He was more concerned about Potto floating aimlessly around in the great infinity, but if something had saved him, something sure as hell must have saved Potto. He was much luckier than Aye. Most of the known universe was luckier than Aye.

He had not seen a Veroseralien before. He found her appearance a little spooky. She looked almost haunted. Her dusty old lilac skin and transparent hair gave her a ghost-like pizzazz. She sat on the foot of his recovery bed and smiled as sweetly as someone who looked like a walking corpse could.

The entire room was covered in old thread-barren tapestries. Some depicted great wars. Some depicted great orgies. Some depicted both at the same time. These tapestries were hung to cover up the rusty dripping pipes and grimy walls of a ship far past its prime.

Music being played in another room could be heard from the hallway. It sounded like the sad minor-key-bass-clef version of what cobwebs might sound like if they were music. It drifted into the room on a waft of incense smoke that smelled like an old casserole.

"I have an idea!" she exclaimed, throwing her spindly arms up into the air dramatically. "We could give you a part! We are rehearsing a new show. It's called "The Rotten Lovers". It's a romance. Of sorts. You'd be perfect as the demon Failcotte the Fragile. Especially with those lovely little devil horns of yours."

"They're not little!" Aye said, taking offense. Calling a Topher's horns small was about the only social faux pas on Towerscape. It was not unlike making fun of a male's genitalia everywhere else in the universe (speaking of fragile).

"I'm very sorry Mr. Topher. I did not mean to offend. They are spectacular horns atop a very handsome head," she said smiling like she had a mouthful of caramels. "Will you be our Failcotte?"