A band started to play music. Santiago didn’t care for music in general, but whatever this band was playing was absolute torture. So loud. There were people blowing through brass horns, beating drums, pounding a piano, and a man singing words into a microphone, as though putting words with music somehow improved them. It was bringing Santiago to the brink of insanity. It also seemed to be driving the guests insane, judging by the way they were moving. Some were hopping about, others twirling, others kicking out their legs front and back as though trying to fight off an attack.
Wiley was among those humans. He was flailing and twitching all on his own in ways that reminded Santiago of the time he’d witnessed a fellow rat’s death after ingesting poison.
Brocco was bouncing around with a woman who appeared to be molting. The white feathers on her dress were floating everywhere. Several had landed on Brocco’s clumpy hair and shoulders. He smiled, his diamond tooth sparkling.
When the captain arrived at the party, through their connection, Santiago felt the hunger in him, too, that bottomless pit.
More, more, more. It seemed to pulse along with the horrid music.
The band started another song, a slower, softer one meant for the humans to dance close to their chosen partners. Santiago calmed some, until the man started singing the words. Words about summer and sunsets and love.
Love. Humans everywhere at all times were always going on about love. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand a lot of human things. It was like putting a square inside of a circle. It might go in, but it didn’t fit right. All the human thoughts and feelings inside of Santiago didn’t fit. Love he understood least of all. It seemed to make humans do the most ridiculous things, like dance.
The captain must have felt the same way because he stopped the party. He reached out his hands. He made a few motions, like he was turning invisible knobs and buttons, and then everything froze. The music stopped. The dancing stopped. All noise and motion stopped.
The entire ball was frozen. A woman’s skirts were flared out from her spinning. A man was frozen mid-leap, both legs off the ground. Brocco and Wiley were frozen, too, their arms and legs bent at odd angles, their faces in unnatural expressions. Albert was frozen with a cake halfway to his open mouth, his eyes half-closed.
The only two animate creatures in the room were the captain and Santiago. The time freeze had no effect on them, except to give Santiago relief from all that chaos.
The captain went to Brocco and Wiley. He tapped on each of their chests and they both took deep gasping breaths as though they’d been underwater and had just come to the surface.
“Crikey,” Brocco said, shaking himself a little. “I’ll never get used to that. Feels like I’ve got spiders crawlin’ all over me.”
Wiley shivered, lit his pipe, and took a few puffs, looking around at all the frozen people. “What about Albert?” he asked. “You gonna unfreeze him?”
“No,” the captain said. “He’s not needed now.”
Santiago knew the captain didn’t really need Brocco and Wiley either. He didn’t need anyone. But they could be useful.
The captain wove in and out of the frozen guests. He stopped in front of the woman who looked like a cake. The short man was behind her, half-covered by her wide dress.
“Oh! That’s Marie Antoinette, isn’t it?” Wiley asked.
“Yes,” the captain said. “I thought her timeline might be an interesting one to work with, given her fate.”
“Doesn’t she get her head chopped off?” Wiley asked.
“She does indeed. Her husband too.” The captain nodded to the man. “The fate of careless monarchs.”
Wiley shuddered and puffed on his pipe.
“Lessons to be learned, eh, Your Majesty?” Brocco jested, elbowing the captain in the ribs.
The captain gave him a look that made him instantly stop.
“Lessons for mortal kings and queens,” the captain said. “I am not susceptible to such a fate.”
“Of course not.”
“What would happen if someone chopped off your head?” Wiley asked.
Both Brocco and Wiley jumped back as the captain drew his sword and held it out to Wiley. “Why don’t you try it and find out?”
Wiley shook his head and held up his hands. “No, sir, I’m good.”
Santiago was a little disappointed. He wanted to know what would happen if someone tried to chop off the captain’s head. Obviously he wasn’t the least bit afraid of it.
The captain turned back to the woman called Marie Antoinette. He reached out and gently touched her throat. Wiley winced, turning his head, as though the captain was about to strangle her or break her neck. But he did no such thing. With a fluid motion, he drew out of the woman a swath of shimmery light blue material. It looked like water flowing in a stream through the air.
Pictures swam in the material, mostly of the woman, but other humans, too, and places and things. Santiago glimpsed a grand palace. Horses and fine carriages. Servants and children. A yappy little dog that made Santiago hiss. Mounds of food, especially cakes.
“That’s the memory material, is it?” Brocco asked.
“Her time tapestry,” the captain said. “It’s her past, present, and future, all woven together.”
The captain brushed his fingers along the watery material. The woman shuddered, as though the captain had stroked a cold finger along her spine. The captain lifted his sword and with a swift movement slashed the blade through the tapestry in several places. Both Wiley and Brocco winced at this, but the woman did not move. The captain rearranged all the pieces, pressing the fabric together, creating seams that were jagged and puckered, like scarred flesh.
The captain stepped back to observe his handiwork. The images seemed to be in a chaotic dance as
