My music started up again, “I’ve Got a Theory/Bunnies/If We’re Together” by the Buffy the Vampire Slayer cast from their stellar musical episode. Nice to see Algar was keeping it light.
It was a short song, and only lasted as long as it took for the big doors to open noiselessly. My music changed to “Be Prepared” from the Lion King soundtrack. Algar was all about the interesting choices.
“I was expecting creaking,” Oliver admitted.
“Or noise of any kind,” White agreed.
“Light would have been nice,” was my contribution. Because it was murky as hell inside.
SuperBun hopped in, however, so we followed, doors closing noiselessly behind us. Wasn’t sure if a loud, final-sounding bang would have been better or just more appropriate.
But once the doors closed, lights came on.
We all stared and we all gaped. Who SuperBun hopped over to was not, despite my musical warning, what I and, I was pretty sure, the others had been expecting. At all.
We all stood there, speechless. Realized one of us had to break the silence. So I did. Managing the only words I could come up with.
“Um . . . Santa?”
CHAPTER 34
WELL, HE LOOKED LIKE SANTA CLAUS. Muscular but fat, white hair, moustache, and beard, rosy cheeks, jolly expression, dressed in bright red with white trim.
The room was huge, which was to be expected from the doors. But something still felt wrong with what I was seeing. Well, lots was wrong with it, really.
We were in what looked like Santa’s toy factory. There were assembly lines, all with squirrels working at them, creating things. Things that looked like animals, but only a few kinds. There were bins filled with pygmy elephants, squirrels, and tiny horses—none of which looked quite alive or dead—but no rabbits. It reminded me a lot of the various cloning and bot factories we’d discovered. Less horrifying and disgusting than Gaultier’s Hot Zombies Factory, more alive than the bot factory under the NSA black site. Still plenty creepy.
Probably Not Really Santa was sitting on a big chair that looked like a combination of a throne and the kinds of chairs the Santas at the malls sat on for pictures with the little ones. Only this one was on rollers. An executive Santa chair.
About a hundred feet behind him was another set of doors. These were even bigger and more imposing than the ones we’d entered Santa’s Workshop through. They looked more firmly closed, and were sealed by something, at least as near as I could make out.
Probably Not Really Santa smiled at me. “Have you been a good girl this year, Kitty?”
“What the literal hell?” Chuckie muttered, as Jeff and Christopher put Bruno and Ginger down.
“Um . . . yes?”
“What would you like for your present?” Probably Not Really Santa asked.
“Careful,” Chuckie said quietly. “Trust me, this is a trap.”
“I feel nothing,” Jeff added softly. “At all. From anyone, person or animal.”
Cleared my throat and considered my possible responses here. My music changed—to “Universe & U” by KT Tunstall. “I’d like to save the universe.”
Probably Not Really Santa’s eyes narrowed. “Now, why would you say that?”
Decided to go for it. “Grumpy?”
He sat up straight. “I am not that person, nor am I that emotion. I am Lord Dupay.”
Ran through name possibilities from this. It was pretty easy to guess. “Dopey, I presume?”
Definitely Not Really Santa glared at me. Not up to Christopher’s standards, but not bad, either. “That’s not my name.”
“Sure it is. I gave it to you a few years ago. Though, to be honest, I really was expecting Grumpy to be here.”
Dopey sniffed. “She’s off doing whatever it is she does. You will call me by the name I’ve chosen.”
She. Interesting.
“Humor him,” White said softly.
Heaved an internal sigh. “Fine. Lord Dupay, what’s going on?”
“Many things, Kitty. But you haven’t answered my question. What would you like for your present?”
“I did answer. I’d like to save the galaxy. Potentially the universe, too.”
He rolled his eyes. “I see you’ve chatted with Grumpy, then.”
“No, actually. We haven’t seen anyone we know here. Well, I mean, we know SuperBun now, and you, but prior to that, no one.” On this planet, I added for honesty’s sake. Chose not to mention Peter for whatever reason and, as far as I could tell, SuperBun didn’t mention him either. Interestinger.
“Humph.” Dopey looked at SuperBun. “You like that name, Number One Bun?” Which was also a cute name, and far cuter than I’d have ever given Dopey, or any of the other superconsciousnesses we’d met, credit for coming up with.
SuperBun indicated that he did. But in a very careful, subservient way. A way I hadn’t seen him exhibit until right now. My music changed to “Save My Life” by Pink. So, if I was interpreting this clue right, SuperBun was in as much danger as we were. Maybe all the animals we’d seen were. The ones in the bins certainly weren’t having a party.
“Well, it’s fine for her to call you that. But it’s not your real name,” Dopey said, giving me side-eye. “She thinks she’s the one who names everyone, but she’s wrong.”
Took all my self-control not to mention that I was Shealla, the Giver of Names—at least on Beta Eight and as far as Ixtha was concerned, too—and that I’d named Dopey and all the other superconsciousnesses who’d gotten uppity on my planet. That response was likely to get us all into more trouble than we were already in. “I just think SuperBun is amazing. His telepathy is the strongest I’ve ever felt.”
“Is it?” Dopey asked. “And yet you broke free from it.”
“We did. What’s with the elephants? I’ve never seen them that small, ever, and they seemed to be all water on the inside. Did you do that?” Ensured I sounded interested.
Dopey nodded. “It’s a more natural, efficient way to keep the world irrigated.”
“Can’t argue with your results. You had to have tinkered with the elephants, though.”
“I did. They were too large to be of use.”
“How so? Honestly, I’d think the bigger they were, the better for watering.”
“They were too heavy and ruined the grass wherever they stepped.”
“Oh. Good point. Same with the horses, then?” Not that I’d noticed that horses’ hooves were grass unfriendly, but it was clear I wasn’t dealing with a sane mind.
“Yes.”
“And yet you left the rabbits and squirrels at their regular sizes?”
“They’re perfectly efficient at their natural sizes.”
Interesting choice of words. “I’m kind of amazed that this world had elephants and horses and bunnies and squirrels. And, apparently, other predators no longer among the living.”
“Predators create issues.”
We were predators. Couldn’t argue that we could create issues. However, had a strong feeling that Dopey was the biggest predator right now. “Why do you look like Santa Claus?”
He seemed surprised by the question. “He’s the most benevolent figure of your world.”
Let that sink in for a moment and didn’t allow myself to think of other benevolent Earth figures because that wasn’t what mattered right now. “So what? I mean that in a non-disrespectful way. I don’t get why you’d imitate anything from Earth.”