A World In Peril


It was not a time or a place for such things. Sometimes, though, it is necessary for certain actions to take place whatever the consequences and whatever the wish that things could – somehow – be different. There were many things about Membranes Gastropod’s life that he wished were different, including his name. But that was the name he’d chosen from out of all the petabytes of information swirling around in the cloud around him as he fell into this dimension. Those were the words that somehow attached themselves to him, giving him an identity.

When he arrived, clutching the solid ground underneath him he needed a name to cling to. Otherwise, he thought, if he let go this world would dissolve under him, leaving him back falling through the void.

Membranes Gastropod.

It could be worse.

At the moment though, he was not entirely sure how it could be worse. Not that it was a bad place, this Earth. The dominant creatures on it, while not exactly intelligent, did have nice fur and made a purring sound Gastropod found quite soothing. Their slaves, though, the humanoid creatures, were a different matter entirely. Although, they did do a rather involved comedy routine he found highly amusing. He’d amassed quite a bit of footage of this rather comical thing they called politics to show everyone when he got back to his own world. He was sure it would become the comedy hit of the dimensions.

Meanwhile he was here, now, and he assumed this was why he’d come tumbling through the dimensions. He stared into the….

Well, that too didn’t have a name.

The creatures on the planet had meowed their concerns about it to him. They’d tried, and failed, to point out the impending disaster to their human slaves. But – it appeared – that the slaves could only see three dimensions and were consequently completely oblivious to their impending doom.

Normally, Gastropod would have just saved the cats and left the humans to enjoy the last of their politics until their world was consumed by the dimensional void. But he was keen to see how the next plot twist – the election, they called it – turned out.

So, he sighed, checked his hastily-assembled dimensional void neutraliser was plugged in to the nearest available power socket, hitched up his kilt and set out to save yet another world, if only for the cats.


Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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