An Ice Cream van on Amalgam station.
Someone, somewhere, was playing Greensleeves on a glockenspiel. Rael knew this because he was chasing Shayde, who was racing about, trying to find the source of the noise.
The only information she’d supplied had been “MISTAH WHIPPEH![1]” before she had taken off at -as she called it- warp nine.
One day, one day… in the far, far distant future, he would not need half an hour and a pocket history guide to understand anything that came out of her mouth.
But for now, all he could do was attempt to catch her before the sight of a running human caused a panic in the entire Elemeno.
“HA!” Shayde moved like an otter diving for prey as she spotted the goal of her intentions.
Which was, apparently, a luckless citizen with a freezer apparatus attached to the small food dispensary on the back of his adjusted bicycle.
He took one look at the demonic creature running towards him at top speed and took the sensible portion of valour. He attempted to escape.
They got three times around Promenade Park before Shayde pulled out a Two Hour note and called, “Wait oop! I wanted tae buy sommat!”
Citizens quickly learned that having an ice-cream cart was one thing, but a repetitive and recognisable tune earned literally terrifying volumes of customers.
And Shayde was a terrifying volume all by herself.
[1] Mr Whippy is a popular chain of ice cream vans in Australia. Once upon a time, they all played a tinkly, music-box version of Greensleeves. And routinely amazed parents with their progeny’s capability for over-the-horizon detection of said vans.
[Muse food remaining: 54. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]