Bix and the Patient Comet — Between the teal planet and the violet ring-world, Bix let his star-rocket drift at the speed of a sleepy soap bubble. Read the full story →
Between the teal planet and the violet ring-world, Bix let his star-rocket drift at the speed of a sleepy soap bubble. He wanted to see the once-a-century Blink Parade, but the first signal had not flashed yet. The engines hummed warm under his boots, and tiny space-pebbles went tik-tik against the window. Bix folded his arms, counted twelve little stars, then counted them again backward.
A comet with a round, freckled face swooped close, trailing a flame like orange ribbon. “Psst,” it whispered, which sounded like fizz in a soda can. Bix grinned but did not chase it. He knew parades in space did not hurry, even when comets made rude faces through the glass. Another comet zipped by upside down. Then three dots of light blinked: slow, slower, slowest.
Suddenly the “parade” winked back at him. The planets had been waiting too, holding their stripes still so the comets could spell a giant glowing joke: WHY DID THE STAR-ROCKET WAIT? BECAUSE THE PUNCH LINE HAD ORBITAL TRAFFIC. Bix laughed so hard his engines puffed three perfect flames. Next time you spot those patient little stars around his path, see if one is still trying not to giggle at the speed of a sleepy soap bubble.
