Chapter 20: Tipta Tea
On an Uldon Lillday, The Clockmaker sat in her kitchen, having a steaming and serene cup of Tipta Tea, as sunlight shone through her window. As you might have guessed, this was not light from the same sun that you have, but rather one that shines just as brightly and warmly, and is just as near, and far, from Uldon, as your sun is from Earth. And, for reference, in case this is the kind of thing you care about, this Uldon Lillday happened to be an Earth Sunday for most of the people on Earth. But while there are many differences between Uldon and Earth, there is at least one thing that remains similar - an idle day with a shining sun and warm drink, is a simple and shared joy, and not always easy to come by.
That is why, when an unknown voice burst through and filled the room, the Clockmaker was equally confused and annoyed.
She had never heard of a Jackson Fickle, not being one to watch APBs. She found them to be unnecessary and, on occasion, even sensationalistic. But even if she had seen his freckly face on the broadcast that had taken the universe by solar storm, she would not have known his name, and was unlikely to recognize his voice. And, furthermore, had she known his name, and known his face, and recognized his voice - even if she had known everything there was to know about him - it would still not have helped her understand why his voice now filled her kitchen on a peaceful Lillday.
“The Clockmaker of Uldon?’ asked Jackson’s voice.
“Of course,” she replied, looking around the room, but finding no source for the voice. “There is but one! Now where are you?? How are you talking to me??”
“Oh, right,” replied Jackson, in a casual tone that the Clockmaker did not care for. “See, I was being chased and I had to hide in this chest here.”
The Clockmaker opened a cabinet but found only dried foods. “Okay…” She looked under the table but found only a rug.
“But before I did, I grabbed a Phonus.”
The voice waited a moment.
“Am I supposed to know what that is?” asked the Clockmaker.
“Oh… sorry, I just… sometimes aliens seem to know a lot more than me.”
The Clockmaker paused. “You’re not an Uldonite?”
“No,” said Jackson, “I’m a human… actually.”
“So, you’re calling me from this ‘Phonus’?”
“Yes! It lets me call anyone, anywhere in the universe!” exclaimed Jackson, marveling in the fact that, as far as he could tell, the claim was true and he was actually speaking to someone on Uldon.
“Hm,” said the Clockmaker. She thought for a moment. “All right then. Why are you calling me, then? And who is chasing you? Are you a criminal?”
“No!” said Jackson, then quieted his voice. “It’s just that people want to capture me for a reward.”
“...because you’re a criminal,” said the Clockmaker cooly.
“I’m not. I didn’t do anything wrong,” said Jackson.
“A likely story,” said the Clockmaker.
“You don’t understand. They want to take all of my planet’s water and if I…”
“Water?!” shouted the Clockmaker.
“Yes,” said Jackson.
“Salt water?” she asked with venom in her words.
“Yes.”
“Those in Charge stole all the salt water from my planet.”
“I know,” said Jackson. “...Your grandson told me.”
“How dare you mention my grandson! If this is some kind of prank then I assure I will–”
“It’s not,” interrupted Jackson. “I wish it was. I wish I was back home on Earth. I wish I was doing boring work. I wish I was eating sandwiches that don’t send me into a black hole. I wish my biggest worry was sweating through my shirt. But it’s not. Everything’s … different. And as much as I wish none of this was happening, it is. And for some reason, I have a part to play in it. And I suppose you do too, because when I picked up this Phonus, it called you.”
Jackson took a big breath and waited.
The Clockmaker sat down.
“So you’ve really met my grandson, the Watchmaker?”
“Yes. And he wants me to become President of Earth.” Jackson still couldn’t believe the words.
“Well, if he says you should become President, then it’s what you need to do. So go be President.”
“It’s not simple. I’ve got to somehow–”
“Ah, ah, ah. We have a saying here on Uldon: if you want clean air, then shut down the excuse factory.”
“Ok, but—”
“Ah, ah, ah. Shut it down. You said yourself you have a role to play- now go play it.”
Jackson sighed. “Ok”
The Clockmaker smiled. “Now then, looks like you called me because you just needed a good talking to.”
Jackson sighed again. “Suppose you might be right.”
The Phonus beeped three times.
“Call time remaining: Three Minutes,” said a robotic voice.
“What?? No one told me there was a time limit!” said Jackson, louder than he intended.
“Everything has a time limit,” said the Clockmaker. “Not everything tells you what it is.”
Jackson wanted to disagree, but couldn’t find anything worth saying.
The Clockmaker took a sip of her tea. “Is there anything else you need before you go?” she asked.
“Well… I guess I’d love to know, and don’t mean this an excuse for not doing something or anything like that… but I suppose I could use some advice on how to get away from the guy who’s chasing me here at, um, Ban– Bandiggo Fuzzier?”
“Bandango Fazaar?!” she exclaimed.
“Yes that’s it!”
“My dear boy, what in the worlds are you doing at Bandango Fazaar? No offense, but you don’t seem the sort.”
“None taken. I’m not.”
“What are you up against exactly?”
“An angry merchant with a store full of mysterious and dangerous items with capabilities only known to him.”
“I see.” The Clockmaker took another sip of tea. “And what do you have, besides this Phonus.”
The Clockmaker heard Jackson moving and jostling around as he rooted through his pockets.
“Not much,” he said. “The Byzongs took most of my belongings when they took me.”
“Byzongs? They’ve got Byzongs involved now?” scoffed the Clockmaker.
“Yes, but, one of them is on our side. She’s the reason I’ve gotten this far at all.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty great, really. At, well, pretty much everything. At doing stuff I mean. At like, helping, and knowing things. And she’s really good with building stuff. You should meet her. I mean I know we haven’t met, officially, but, I’m sure you’d like her. As in, be impressed with her, because you know, she’s pretty great really, I guess.”
“Oh,” said the Clockmaker with a smile.
At the Bandango Fazaar, inside a dark chest, Jackson was blushing. He sat, awkwardly and motionless, with his hand in an almost empty pocket, wondering why he had just used 61 words, when 3 would have done (although he did not know these exact numbers himself as relationship to language and numbers was more casual than scientific). But in his silent wonder, his fingers found the one item that he did still have. An item that could not have been taken by the Byzongs, since he had only received it recently.
“I almost forgot!” said Jackson. “I have your pocketwatch.”
The Clockmaker stopped sipping. “How did you get it?” she asked.
“Your grandson gave it to me. As a gift.”
“Jackson…” she said sternly, “this is very important. Did he say anything to you when he did?”
“Yeah, he told me if I ever need help, I should switch it. Or flip it. I think he said flip it.”
“That’s why we needed to talk! It wasn’t the advice and it wasn’t to get you out of that cheat! You needed to tell me about the watch!” she said.
“But what does it mean? Flip what?” asked Jackson.
“Jackson, The Watchmaker’s clock never stops…”
Just then, the lid to the chest opened, and Jackson looked up to see Tarza’s face.
“Call ended,” said the robotic voice.