Brown Flower Entity

Okay, Arthur's fine with it, says Sweezus. Peony it is.

Excellent, says Sartre. I shall use it in my next blog post.

Without revealing the connection to the Blob, says Sweezus.

Certainly, without revealing that, says Sartre. 

He starts typing. And stops.

What colour is a peony? asks Sartre.

Brown, says Sweezus.

A brown flower? asks Sartre. Are you joking?

The flower? says Sweezus. I thought you were trying out the code word.

Good to know it works, says Sartre. But I did mean the flower.

Pink, says Sweezus. At least the Minecraft ones are. 

Let me see them, says Sartre.

Sweezus shows him the goat pen with the peonies planted outside.

Very pretty, says Sartre. And what do the goats eat?

Grass, says Sweezus. 

Sartre wonders what will happen when the grass is all eaten, but does not pursue it.

He returns to his task:

I am still on the train, We have linked up with our compatriots on the earlier train. We have agreed on two code words. The second is a code word for the first. The first is a codeword for the entity we seek. I see no harm in revealing the second codeword, which is PEONY. An ingenious codeword which also refers to the flowers my companion has planted close to his goat pen in the vain hope that the goats will not eat them. But then what do I know of Minecraft? 

He shows Sweezus. After all it wouldn't do to publish something too revealing at this early stage.

Sweezus reads it.

Compatriots? says Sweezus.

I'm French, Arthur is French, says Sartre, and Terence is, in a sense, Spanish.

What about me? asks Sweezus. I'm not French or Spanish.

We are all Europeans, says Sartre.

Not exactly, says Sweezus. But fuck it.

If my post is somewhat misleading, so much the better, says Sartre. Any other objections?

The goats won't eat the flowers unless I say so, says Sweezus.

But is that an objection? asks Sartre.

Not really, says Sweezus. 

Sartre presses 'Publish'.

Off it goes.

Not Beaver

The Blob is the code name for you know who, says Terence.

Arthur likes the new code name.

I'll tell the other guys, says Arthur.

He sends Sweezus a text message.

Code name 4 Sylv. bear = Blob.

Sweezus, travelling in the later train, receives the text message.

WTF? mutters Sweezus.

What's up? asks Sartre. Have your goats escaped from your goat pen?

No way, says Sweezus. I fixed the hole with wire netting. This is from Arthur.

You just spoke to him, says Sartre. What now?

He's given me a code word, says Sweezus/

For the operation? asks Sartre. What is it?

For the... ( Sweezus checks that no one is listening)... entity we're going to rescue.

What a fine idea, says Sartre. What is it?

Sweezus shows him the message.

Blob? says Sartre.

Terence probably made it up, says Sweezus.

I can't use Blob in my blog, says Sartre. It's too childish.

You can't use it anyway, says Sweezus. 

Why not? asks Sartre. No one will know what it refers to.

All your readers'll be listening out for it, says Sweezus. Including the ones in Barcelona.

Do you think I'll have readers in Barcelona? asks Sartre.

That's how the internet works, says Sweezus.

Sartre tries to think of a way to overcome this.

Aha! says Sartre. 

What? asks Sweezus.

I'll use a code name for the code name, says Sartre.

Yeah, go for it, says Sweezus.  A code name like what?

Simone, says Sartre. No... better not use her name. How about Beaver?

I've heard you call her that, says Sweezus. 

You're quite right, says Sartre. What do you suggest then?

How about Peony? says Sweezus.

Where did that come from? asks Sartre.

 I'm planting peonies around my goat pen, says Sweezus.

Won't the goats eat them? asks Sartre.

Is it a good code name or what? asks Sweezus. 

It is, no one will guess it refers to a Blob, says Sartre. Should we tell Arthur?

I'll text him back, says Sweezus. 

He texts Arthur:

Peony = code name 4 Blob.

Arthur gets it. 

And responds with a giant thumbs up.

The Substitute Blob

Where's Arthur? asks Terence.

We don't know, says Prong.

How come you don't know? asks Terence.

Because he doesn't know, says Prong.

Arthur? says Terence.

This man, says Prong.

Me, says the man sitting next to Prong. I don't know. But he did get a phone call.

Who from? asks Terence.

I don't know, says the man. He stood up straight away and walked off.

He probably didn't want you to overhear any secrets, says Prong.

What secrets? asks Terence.

More secrets like the secrets I overheard last time, says the man. About the rope and the net. 

And the Blob, says Terence.

What Blob? asks Prong, looking sharply at Terence.

I just invented a code name, says Terence.

Oh yes, says Prong. The Blob in the bonnet.

Don't tell me it's a baby! says the man.

We won't, says Terence.

Because it isn't, says Prong.

I was going to say, if it's a baby you're planning to kidnap, I ought to report it, says the man.

Why would we want to kidnap a baby? asks Terence.

Perhaps you are to be the substitute baby, says the man. 

Blob, says Terence.

The substitute Blob, says the man. The gang kidnaps the Blob and leaves you in its place. 

Me? says Terence. 

He had not thought of that. 

That isn't the plan, says Prong. Come on Terence, let's find Arthur.

Your gang leader, says the man.

Yikes ! This man knows too much.

Prong whirrs off, followed by Terence.

Soon they bump into Arthur, coming back.

Guess what? says Terence. 

What? asks Arthur.

The ticket inspector captured Prong, says Terence. 

And she got away, says Arthur.

And now he's off duty, says Terence.

Great, says Arthur. So I'll go and sit down.

Don't sit next to that man again, says Terence. He knows what the Blob is!

Why don't I know what the Blob is? says Arthur.

All the passengers nearby are listening.

Waiting to hear what the Blob is.

No Turn-Offs

Terence picks up the sunflower seed and the raisin and puts them into his pocket.

There's another one, says the ticket inspector.

A green pumpkin seed.

Woo! says Terence. It must have jumped out.

How did it get so far down the aisle? asks the ticket inspctor.

It probably bounced, says Terence.

He picks it up. 

And throws it down hard.

But the green pumpkin seed does not bounce.

Perhaps it rolled, says the ticket inspector.

Yes, says Terence. 

He picks it up again and tries to set the pumpkin seed rolling.

But it seems pumpkin seeds do not roll.

I suspect your parrot is leaving a trail for you to follow, says the ticket inspector.

It might be a trick, says Terence.

I'm going that way anyway, says the ticket inspector.

I'll go first, says Terence.

He sets off down the aisle, following the Trail Mix.

Past the kid with the ipad.

Your parrot just went past, says the kid, It was spitting.

Spitting! says the ticket inspector.

It spat these, says the kid.

Three currants, a raisin and a coconut curl.

Great, says Terence. You've broken the trail I was following.

Sorr-ee! says the kid.

That's okay, says Terence. 

How come you're following a trail? asks the kid. This is just a straight train.

He has a point. There are no turn-offs.

Terence turns to look at the ticket inspector.

But the ticket inspector has gone.

Where did he go? asks Terence.

I didn't see, says the kid with the ipad. 

Yikes! says Terence. I'd better catch up.

You don't know which way he went, says the kid. 

He would have gone that way, says Terence, 

Or back that way, says the kid.

Why would he go that way? asks Terence.

To get something to clean up with, says the kid.

Yes! says Terence. Well, I'm going to keep going this way.

He hurries to catch up with Prong who he hopes has warned Arthur the ticket inspector is coming.

The trail stops at the seat next to the man beside whom Arthur was sitting.

Prong is in it.

And Arthur has gone.

Yes! At least the plan worked.

No.....Yes!

The ticket inspector leads Terence to a small compartment.

In it, there's a seat and a table.

On the table is a packet of Trail Mix, unopened.

Wait here, says the ticket inspector.

He goes out, and comes back with Prong.

Hello, says Prong. 

Now I know why you didn't eat the Trail Mix, says Terence.

Yes, says Prong.

Why? asks the ticket inspector. 

Because it's not open, says Terence. 

A parrot should be able to open a packet of Trail Mix, says the ticket inspector. 

You try, says Prong.

The ticket inspector opens the packet of Trail Mix. 

Okay, says Prong. Now try and do it with your mouth.

But I've already done it, says the ticket inspector.

You should have asked him to open it with his mouth first, says Terence.

I see that now, says Prong.

Would you like some? asks the ticket inspector.

No thank you, says Prong.

You might later, says Terence. I'll tip some into my pocket.

He tips some Trail Mix into his pocket.

You are both free to go, says the ticket inspcctor.

Where to? asks Terence.

To the young man you've been travelling with, says the ticket inspector. 

Okay, says Terence.

It might be a trick, says Prong.

No it isn't, says Terence. This guy's off duty.

The ticket inspector nods in agreement.

No trick. He's off duty.

He indicates the door.

Terence and Prong exit the compartment.

Now what? asks Terence.

I'll go first and warn Arthur, says Prong.

Wait, have these, says Terence, scooping a handful of Trail Mix from his shorts pocket.

What for? asks Prong.

Leave a trail, says Terence.

Why? asks Prong. Don't you know where Arthur is sitting?

I know where he WAS sitting, says Terence. What if he's moved?

Good thinking, says Prong.

She whirrs off down the train dropping Trail Mix at intervals.

Terence waits for a while before following.

This is a good plan.

The ticket inspector comes out of the compartment behind him.

Sees a sunflower seed and a dried raisin on the floor next to Terence's feet.

There must be a hole in your pocket, says the ticket inspector. 

No..... YES! says Terence

Tied Up And Questioned

Enfin! says the ticket inspector.

Meaning me? asks Terence.

Meaning at last I have found you, says the ticket inspector. 

You found me before, says Terence.

But you were in a hurry, says the ticket inspector.

I was going to the toilet, says Terence.

You were, says the ticket inspector. I take it you've been.

Not yet, says Terence.

Which is true. He hasn't.

Then it was an excuse to avoid me checking your ticket, says the ticket inspector. I thought so.

Do you want to check it now? asks Terence.

The ticket inspector looks at his watch.

Trop tard! says the ticket inspector. I'm off duty.

Yay! says Terence. I'm saved!

You are one lucky fellow, says the ticket inspector. And so is your companion.

My parrot? asks Terence.

The young man, says the ticket inspector. 

That's Arthur, says Terence. I'm going to tell him.

Go ahead, says the ticket inspector.

Wait! says Terence. Have you seen my parrot? She's missing.

The whirring drone parrot? asks the ticket inspector.

Yes, her, says Terence.

She has been detained, says the ticket inspctor.

No she hasn't, says Terence. She would have borrowed someone's phone and sent Arthur a message.

She didn't want to make a phone call, says the ticket inspector.

Terence wonders why Prong didn't want to make phone call.

She probably didn't know Arthur's number.

She'll be sad, says Terence. 

She did look sad, says the ticket inspector. We offered her some Trail Mix.

Did she eat it? asks Terence.

No, says the ticket inspector.

Can I have her back? asks Terence. I need her for something important.

What might that be?  asks the ticket inspector.

A rescue, says Terence. She's flying up with a rope and a net. Because I can't. 

Up where? asks the ticket inspector.

It's a secret, says Terence. 

Follow me, says the ticket inspector.

Terence has little choice but to follow.

He expects to be tied up, and further questioned.

Oh No ...Bump!

Are we there yet? asks Terence.

Not yet, says Arthur. 

When are we? asks Terence.

Soon, says Arthur. 

Can I go for a walk down the train? asks Terence.

Okay, says Arthur. Which way will you go? 

That way, says Terence, pointing back to where he was sitting before he sat here.

He goes off in that direction.

Arthur starts thinking about Barcelona.

He had not thought much about it before.

How will he do this?

Last time he was in Barcelona he wasn't in charge of Terence.

He could go where he pleased.

Nightclubbing, visiting seedy bars in Las Ramblas.

But he can't take Terence there.

What if he dropped Terence off somewhere?

In fact he could take Terence straight to the Sagrada Familia, find a safe spot, and leave him there overnight. It's his home after all. Or it was.

Terence meanwhile has walked back to the kid with the ipad.

The seat beside him is still empty.

Where've you been? asks the kid.

Getting away from you, says Terence.

So how come you came back? asks the kid.

Because, says Terence.

Where's your parrot drone? asks the kid.

Good question.Where is she?

Terence looks up and down the train.

Maybe she got captured, says the kid.

She'd get away, says Terence.

What if she couldn't? says the kid.

I would know, says Terence. She'd send me a message.

How? asks the kid. Has she got her own phone?

No, says Terence. She'd have to borrow someone's.

And then what? asks the kid. Have you got your own phone?

No, says Terence. She'd phone Arthur.

Does she know his number? asks the kid.

No, she doesn't. And this kid is still heaps annoying.

Maybe even more heaps annoying than before.

I'll find her myself, says Terence.

He marches off down the train, and oh no!...

...bumps into the ticket inspector.