Episode 047 Previous Episode	Next Episode
“Yes, I see. Something involving that many big words could certainly tear a whole in space and time.” Professor Hubert Farnsworth, Futurama The sun hung directly over the restaurant like a bowling ball. The blue sky around it was supplanted by the white mist of clouds that stretched from one end of the sky to the other, while a handful of birds shot through the air as if trying to break a speed record. Inside the corporately-designed anti-corporate restaurant, Everett stared at the menu, scrutinizing the entrees. Dressed in a short-sleeved red shirt and black jeans, he wasn’t aware of Sydney until she pulled out her own chair. “Oh, god,” he stumbled to apologize, halfway into standing up. “Chill out,” she dismissed playfully. “It’s Tuesday. Knights don’t get up for dames on Tuesdays.” “Sorry,” he said. He put his menu down and glanced around. “I’ve been here ten minutes and still haven’t seen the waiter.” “Yeah, I saw Marilyn’s hostessing,” Sydney said with a glance back towards the door. “That might have had something to do with it.” “You know, I can’t tell if she and I are on good footing or not,” Everett said, craning his neck to see the door, not seeing anyone at the host station. “Well, the same probably goes for her,” the dame said, sipping the water. She slid her knit half-jacket off the red blouse and smiled at Everett. “Sorry Edgar couldn’t make it. One of his students stole him away.” “Well, I’m sorry to say this is big,” Everett said, leaning forward a bit. “You know that Alan guy, right?” “Yeah, Ledger and Roland told me about him,” she nodded. “Did they tell you about what happened the other night?” She shook her head. Everett breathed out. “Where do I begin?” The waiter laid down the plates of food, a steak in front of Everett and a grilled chicken Caesar salad in before Sydney. “That’s wild,” she remarked, amazed. “And he called it Knightspeak?” Everett nodded. “What is that?” “No idea,” he said. “He said it was some kind of living language. Some type of extension of Chivalry or something like that.” “An extension of Chivalry,” she tried. She shook her head, at a loss. “That’s…that’s wild.” “And Sydney, I’m not making this up,” he said earnestly, staring at her. “I could NOT get up. I couldn’t move my hand for the life of me. Not even when he punched at me.” “That’s scary.” “Yeah, especially considering that this is apparently just the start,” Everett went on. “He’s got Jericho’s notes and everything, which I guess will let him finish understanding Knightspeak.” “But I don’t understand what it is,” she said. “Is it some kind of magical language or something? Is it a password that only Knights can understand?” “I don’t know,” Everett said with an air of defeat, paying attention to his steak. The two knights ate in silence for a moment, while the music played through the speakers overhead. The tacky memorabilia that cluttered the walls seemed to gleam with the music’s presence, the atmosphere settling on the tables and the patrons. “What does he want to do with it?” Sydney asked after finishing a bite. Everett shook his head. “But he wants our help.” He nodded. “Maybe we should help him out.” “What?” Everett exclaimed. Sydney put down her fork and crossed her arms on the table. “While I was in Atlanta,” she said, “one of the things I learned is that you don’t get a choice to sit it out when battle lines are drawn. Civilians might, but knights don’t. Eventually, we have to take a side. Now, we can either oppose these guys, which means going to war against fellow knights, which I think we all know is a very bad idea. Or we can sign up with them, see what they’re up to, and perhaps be a voice of reason.” Everett sat back, chewing. He stared off as he finished the bite. “I’d never thought about it like that,” he said to himself. He shifted, uncomfortable with the idea. “If these guys have something big planned, which I’ve got to believe they do, then that means that, at some point, we’re going to have to take a side.” “And you can either be in the devil’s path, or you can be at his right hand side,” Sydney said just before smiling. “And if needs be, the right hand side is the perfect place to turn the devil around and punch him in the nose.” “No, we can’t play it like that,” he said, going back to his steak. “If we sign up with Alan and find out that we don’t want anything more to do with him, then we have to go to him straight. We’re not going to stab him in the back.” He smirked. “Of course, Ledger and Roland might not have a problem with it.” “I’m truly surprised at what those two don’t have problems with,” Sydney remarked with a smile. “Thanks for lunch,” Everett said as Sydney collected her credit card from the bill. He stood and waited as she got up, then collected his coat and walked with her towards the door. At the waitress’ station, Marilyn was flipping through a gymnastics magazine. Everett crept up behind her with a smile and leaned in close. “Bye,” he said into her ear, making her jump. He and Sydney waved to her as they headed through the door. Into the parking lot, the two knights paused as they put on their coats in the warm spring weather. “What’ve you got for the rest of the day?” Everett asked, putting on his sunglasses. “I’ve got Volleyball at four, then nothing,” Sydney answered, heading towards her car. “I was going to go to the gym with Ledger and Roland to get some sparring in. Want to come?” “What are you guys doing?” “Grappling, mostly,” she said. “Ledger wants to brush up on his wrestling and Roland and me got a date with him and a sword.” “You do know that if you try to wrestle with Roland when he’s got a sword in his hands, he’ll win, right?” Everett asked. “Yeah, but I was talking big. Now I’ve got to back it up,” she caved. She unlocked her car. “Want a ride back to your place?” “I’m good,” Everett said. He stepped back from Sydney as she backed out and drove off. Everett watched her go, waving as she disappeared into the distance of the huge shopping center parking lot. He turned and headed for the sidewalk. After only a few thoughtful steps, he heard the skidding of wheels. He whirled around, his hand inside his trench coat on the handle of his ninjato. He spotted the large tan sedan which had veered rapidly across several lanes of traffic to skid into the parking lot. Everett watched as the driver tried poorly to navigate the erratic medians and one-way roads at the entrance before finally just powering over the sidewalk and into the restaurant’s front spaces. The car slammed down onto the pavement and came to a sudden, ominous stop. Everett watched, his hand never leaving the sword. The passenger side door was thrown open and Erik stepped out. Across from him, Donovan got out of the driver’s seat. “You’re out of your mind!” Erik barked, his accent thick with rage. “Hey! We’re here, aren’t we?!” the Brit yelled back. “Okay, what the hell,” Everett whispered to himself. Erik stepped back from the car, slamming the door shut. In a white shirt with a dark blue overcoat on, he turned and looked directly at Everett. Out of the rear of the car stepped Richard, joining Donovan and Erik in appraising Everett. Everett was still for a moment, looking at the three men. “Hi,” he said in a mock-friendly voice. “Hello,” Erik said, closing the door and adjusting himself. “My name is Erik Karlsson. And I believe you are the man we need to speak with.” “And that’s because…” Everett ventured, getting a firmer grip on his sword. “We’re looking for US knights not affiliated with Alan Vick.”
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