One of the highlights of any tourist's stopover on the planet Betamax Delta must surely be a visit to the Archives of Parallel Space-Time. The APST houses an enormous collection of alternate versions of history, mythology and fiction culled from the researches of various intrepid space-time travellers who have chanced upon them by falling into pockets of parallel time on their way to somewhere else.
The collection process, while enlightening, is often a painful one, such as the experience of Leodogrance 'Ace' Cholmondeley-Smythe, the galaxy-famous astrogator, who, while investigating a possible white hole in the vicinity of the Belt of Orion, fell into a wormhole, and spent the ensuing eight years trapped on a colony world of obsessive disciples of a domestic goddess. The Marthaites, as they were called, held the firm belief that anything worth doing was worth decorating, and filled all available spaces in their environment with beautified but useless objects created out of ordinary household detritus. Eight years of forced re-education in the use of the glitter gun had reduced the once-fearless explorer to a jibbering wreck. Fortunately, long and patient counselling at the Galactic Home for the Terminally Bewildered on Rigel V has restored Captain Cholmondeley-Smythe to the point where he can contemplate a white-sale catalogue without shuddering,
The texts which Cholmondeley-Smythe brought back with him (such as the Book of the House of Stewart, a priceless volume bound in stamped Naugahyde with imbedded sequins) have been stored for public safety in a special 'need-to-know-only' collection, and can only be viewed by those with top-security clearance.
While touring the Archives recently, I came across a fascinating volume from the parallel universe designated U1590784. Entitled The Furste Foeley-oh of Weelyam Sheakespeere, it contains alternate story-lines for some well-known material in our own galaxy, and incidentally calls into question the precept held by some that this is the best of all possible worlds.
One of the stories in this volume, in the form of a play, offers an interesting insight into the possibiities of parallel space-time, as you will see.
The story, with the title Piglet, Formerly Known as Prince of Benchmark, begins as follows: Piglet, a Benchish prince, returns from his college studies in Schwatzenburg to find that his father has died, and his uncle Clothilde has become king and married Piglet's mother, all in an unsettlingly short space of time. Piglet is unhappy about this, and refuses to buy the couple a wedding present.
Piglet's best friend and only confidant, Oratorio, informs Piglet that the ghost of the late king has been seen on the battlements of Elsewhere Castle at midnight. Piglet goes out to investigate, and has a disturbing conversation with the spectre of his deceased father. The former King Piglet claims to have been murdered by his own brother, who had his beady eye on the throne and Piglet, Sr's wife Brunhilda.
Piglet is quite alarmed by this revelation of familial perfidy, but even more alarmed by the ghost's insistence that he, Piglet, must avenge his father's death on his uncle, without, incidentally, annoying his mother in any way. Piglet thinks hard about this, delivering himself of several long soliloquies in the process. The following night, he returns to the castle battlements, and informs the spectre of his decision:
No way, Jose!
Piglet explains to the astonished ghost that he, Piglet, is not a policeman, and that if he, the ghost, wants revenge, he can jolly well go haunt Clothilde, the party responsible. And, incidentally, has it occurred to him that Brunhilda is not entirely blameless in the whole matter? The ghost vanishes in a puff of logic, as someone once said
Piglet now turns his attention to the rest of the motley crew at Elsewhere Castle. Clothilde's closest advisor, Phelonius, is watching Piglet closely, trying to find out what his plans are in regard to the throne of Benchmark. To this end, he spies upon Piglet in conversation with Phelonius' daughter, Phred, with whom Piglet has been having a hot and heavy affair.
But Piglet is on to his game. Vous ne pouvez pas pull that dodge on me, he says in the elegant French so in fashion at the court of Benchmark. I am ready for you, mon cher cochon
Having previously tipped Phred the wink, Piglet proceeds to act, and act, and act, convincing Phelonius that Piglet has either a) flipped his wig, or b) been secretly enrolled at RADA instead of attending theology classes in Schwatzenburg as he was supposed to.
Phred pretends to go along with this, and does some C- acting of her own. The whole State of Benchmark is possessed by the demon of Laurence Olivier, exclaims Phelonius, only at greater length, while sawing his hand in the air, thus (there are illustrated stage directions, which I cannot reproduce here).
Piglet has a serious conversation with his mother, in which he tries to convince her to go into therapy. During their talk in her bedroom, a scuffling noise is heard behind the arras. Thinking that Brunhilda's room is infested with rats, Piglet dashes out and returns, armed with mousetraps, which he lays out around the wainscotting.
Shortly afterwards, a loud snap is heard, followed by groaning. Aha!, exclaims Piglet, then pulls back the arras to reveal the suffering Phelonius, with a sprung mousetrap on his big toe.
Oh, pompous idiot, says Piglet, I took thee for thy better, a Norwegian white. Medical help is summoned.
Enraged at this breach of Benchmark court etiquette, Clothilde determines to send Piglet away to his allies in Eltonjohnland. To this end, he enlists the help of Rosary and Fallingstar, his old schoolmates, who are tired of the dole queue and looking for employment in their chosen profession of Toady.
Hey, Big Fella, say Rosary and Fallingstar, let's hit the big time in London, see the sights.
What, says Piglet, Would you play upon me as upon this xylophone?
Hey, says Fallingstar, That's a great idea! Let's start a rock band!
A hoopy idea!, says Piglet, only not in so many words (many more, in fact), and so they pack up their instruments for the trip, taking Phred along as girl singer and Oratorio as roady.
But the cunning Clothilde has prepared a letter of recommendation to the Greater Longtown Arts Council, in which he recommends that, instead of hiring these musicians out for gigs, they nail their carcases to the town gates, pour encourager les autres, lest they be overrun with freeloading Mick Jagger-wannabes. (Curiously, the name 'Mick Jagger' appears unchanged in all known documents in parallel space-time.)
Piglet, however, has acquired good reading skills from his education at Schwatzenburg, and a healthy suspicion of his uncle from the first three acts of this play. So, aboard the Benchmark-Eltonjohnland ferry, while everyone else is taking advantage of the onboard gambling and duty-free shopping, he steams open the letter, while reciting the famous soliloquy, 'Oh, that this too, too solid glue would melt'.
Having read with horror this further evidence of his uncle's villainy and bad spelling, Piglet alters the letter, making it an obnoxious rant to the Times about the general decline in the quality of musical exports from Eltonjohnland, thoroughly maligning the whole pop genre, which will be guaranteed to set off a trade war come the next session of the Yuropean Parliament.
Disembarking at Do-Over, the Fab Five launch a successful career as rock idols, touring Eltonjohnland and the surrounding territories, and finally settling down to write their bestselling memoirs.
Clothilde, Brunhilda, and Phelonius, meanwhile, are faced with an angry mob demanding peace, freedom, and reasonably-priced love, or else they will burn Benchmark Castle to the ground and set up an autonomous free-trade zone. Faced with an impossible situation, Clothilde abdicates in favour of Phelonius' son, Layabout, who rules so incompetently that the kingdom is subsequently invaded by Fourteenbras, the prince of Amway.
The play ends with a speech by Fourteenbras, in which he outlaws Walkmans and MP3 players, exclaiming: We rest in silence!
As you can see, the library at APST can provide the literate visitor with hours of reading pleasure and philosophical speculation, or, as one PST author has it:
Of all weird words of tongue or pen, the weirdest are these: it might have been.
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