The Day I Traded My Slippers for Space Boots The Prequel to the Sir William & Mac Life Without Slippers Series First Pages
The Day I Traded My Slippers for Space Boots the Prequel to The Sir William & Mac Life Without Slippers Series
I am The Mac
I never knew that I was being watched, but I was, by a guy from another planet who was weird, and bizarre, and sometimes terrifyingly powerful. Now that I am nearing the end of my life I wanted to not just tell the stories Sir William’s adventures that I have been sharing , but I also felt that I needed to tell you about his life. This would be before my time, although time, I have learned, is a riddle. William had moved into the house next door to my Aunt Maddy’s when my father was chasing these birds in South America. Everyone thought they were extinct, except Dad, and the villagers who were getting eaten by them. They were terror birds and were ten feet tall. And they liked meat. Humans are meat… you get where this is going.
In this first encounter with him I heard myself referred to as “The Mac.” It seemed that I wasn’t just an average fifteen year old, I was something very different. I had powers. Who knew? It would take years and years before I understood it all and I can tell you that there were many times that I had wished I never had. What follows is based on everything William has told me about this life-changing time, before I met him. He recorded these stories in little chunks and pieces so it has taken me some time to put them together. I am grateful to many others on his home planet for helping me fill in the blanks. Here is the story of Sir William from the planet Fidea.
Chapter 1: YOUTH People avoided looking at me, until they didn’t. And that’s when it all changed. Because, you see, everyone who had tried to do what they wanted me to do, was dead. Really dead. Not might-come-back-with-a-little-prodding-and-hoping dead. Dead. So now they looked at me, right at me.
Back then I was young. Not even two hundred yet, I think, if I remember correctly. If you’re from Earth and reading this you may think that two hundred is old. To you, it is. To people around me, it is just annoying young adulthood, when it was understood that you were an arrogant idiot. People from my planet live a long, long time. My family, in particular, are very long-lived. I had a great aunt once who lived to be more than twelve hundred. But, to be honest, we did find out that she was probably only eleven hundred and fifty, or sixty when she died and was just too mean to rot. I bet you have people like that in your family. Anyway, I was young, and it was one of my decades, unlike some of them, when I was not getting younger.
To understand the events involving the Chi Pequel, (which was a weird name so later I renamed it Maurice since I could remember Maurice), you need to understand why I am impressive. My great, great, great, great, great grandparents were part of the Ancients. These people came from a planet called Worshak, or Wanshak, or something like that. To be honest I flunked out of history. Anyway, they all had powers, some could fly, some could teleport, some were kinetic, some became invisible or shape shift, some whistled or or could wiggle their ears. But after they lived with the natives of our planet, Fidea, they fell in love, and reproduced like little bunnies. Therefore most people on the planet had some powers, some could squirt milk out their noses, for example, but those of us who were more directly descended often had more powers, or stronger, or more impressive. That was me. Mr. Impressive. This group was invited to serve the Assembly, our governing council, as agents. Kind of like an elite fighting force on Earth, only we were mostly out of shape and lacking in great amounts of anything like courage. Or intelligence. Or deductive reasoning. Or, even, table manners. We served, however, because, for one thing, you got paid, and for the other, it was kind of sexy. No uniform but some great equipment. I never thought I’d have to do anything as an agent, there were so many more before me who were experienced and reasonably good at their jobs who I thought I would be the last one to get called. I knew how to do space welding, and underwater welding. I had worked in the prosecuting attorney’s office in the mind determination department. We would bring thoughts and memories forward from someone’s mind, and, in most cases, have evidence that they were probably lying about their pleas of innocence. It was fun but after a while too dark to let you sleep at night. When I hooked up violent offenders, or liars, and saw their images and rage it didn’t leave my mind. You can’t un-know what you know, or un-see what you see. It was dark, as I said, and sad, and reminded me too much of losing my parents. That was something I just didn’t allow, the memories of them, and how it felt to be totally on my own, alone in the Universe.
I didn’t think about that, there was no need, I couldn’t bring them back, so the mind-revealing job was out.
I worked for a while re-locating animal groups, and that was fun, but the people who worked there had no sense of humor. They didn’t think that landing a herd of animals into the business district, during rush hour, was at all amusing. So, I didn’t do that for long.
Now I was a space barge pilot. I hauled trash. It wasn’t glamorous but it was a paycheck. No one bothered me and space is very quiet. I could play my music, nap a little, and be home in time to meet some friends at the pub. You see, then, how I really didn’t have anything to offer the Assembly. Then it all changed when there was a new monster in town, Chi Pequel, not in town, actually, but rather in space, who was kicking butt, killing our agents, destroying great chunks of land that it nibbled on, dropping globs of deserts and forests and oceans all over the place. Not tidy, not safe. The Assembly was working overtime relocating people, but Chi Pequel could split itself off and attack several parts of the globe at once. Consequences hit like quakes and tsunamis and people were dying. I had been “invited” to come before the Assembly and something told me this wasn’t about hauling trash.
I stood before them, knowing and confident one minute, sweating and nauseous the next. “William.” It was Leeber, an old, old family friend who actually seemed to like me. “You have seen the reports on Chi Pequel?” Leeber stood tall even when he was short, which was most of the time. He was a Royal Agent, actually called “Sir” but not to his face. He didn’t appreciate it. He was just Leeber. “The reports, yes, of course.” I knew that he knew that I was lying. “Then you are aware that we have now lost eighty-nine of our top agents.” I hadn’t known the number. The sweating increased. “Yes. Tragic. Horrible. Intolerable.” “Yes. Your orders are to travel to the coordinates provided, they’ll be in your ship.” “My orders? Leeber, I’m a trash barge pilot. I think there’s been a mistake.” He stood and strolled around the center of the round assembly room, the members, who all seemed to be in attendance for a change, were quiet. They were staring at me. “You will be deflecting this energy based entity.” “Deflect?” “Deflect. We have a few ideas, magnetic fields that will be uncomfortable for it, all programmed into the ship.” “With respect, don’t we want to obliterate it? Smash it, crash it, destroy it?” That thought sounded more fun than I had thought of because I really liked blowing up space trash. “Destroying it is what eighty-nine of your colleagues have attempted and failed. Our best results would appear to be deflection. It has a history of becoming bored on its feedings and will move on if things become irritating to it. We want to become irritating.” Now I knew why they had called me. It all made perfect sense. I had majored in irritating, had even done extra classwork outside of school, just ask my poor teachers. But this was to be my first solo mission. I wanted to kill it, save the planet, save the universe, have stories to tell that would impress the ladies. “Do you accept, then, to work until the Chi Pequel is deflected, chased away?” I did a little bow, which I thought was dramatic and cool, and said, “With honor. I will deflect. I live to irritate, and, above all else, deflect.” I wasn’t really thinking about the eighty-nine who failed, or why they couldn’t go back and try again. Like I told you before, I was young and very stupid.