The little creature’s eyes rounded, and for the first time a sincere rather than sarcastic smile shone on his face, then he closed his eyes and bowed his head.
“Ha-ha-ha,” Van laughed in his squeaky voice. “The old man?! He is a great rishi. A sage who can travel from one planet to another. The keeper of the path between the worlds.”
“Oh crap,” Jean-Pierre whispered.
“Do you think he sent us here on purpose?” David asked Jean-Pierre quietly.
“How should I know? If he is so great, he might have.”
“Yes,” Yulia shook her head. “He probably didn’t like it very much when you grabbed him by his clothes and shook him.”
“Is he a great sage?” Dr Capri clarified. “Could he have sent us here?”
“Apparently, yes,” Van said uncertainly. “We should ask Dandin. He is the king’s assistant. And the sage Bhrigu is a great soul. Come, we can’t stand still for long.”
Little Van walked in small steps ahead.
“We have to find out everything,” Dr Capri said, warning Jean-Pierre’s words. “We must follow him.”
“Em, doctor, I wouldn’t be so sure,” replied the Frenchman. “Look, Tulu-Manchi…” Jean-Pierre began to speak.
“Yes, look, we’re on the Sun,” smiled the doctor, “we have to find out what all this means.”
Everyone smiled and got up to follow Van.
“Van,” Debby called out, “why can’t we stand for a long time?”
Van answered without turning around:
“Drown.”
“Well,” Jean-Pierre grudgingly agreed and started walking with the others, “then at least we won’t have to drag,” and he tried to lift Van into his arms.
It turned out that the little creature was very heavy. Van slapped Jean-Pierre on the fingers and jumped away from him.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Van squeaked.
“I just wanted to speed up our walk,” Jean-Pierre said, continuing to be surprised by Van’s weight.
“Speed up?” Van shook his head. “Well,” he said, and rose above the surface, he floated through the air with increasing speed.
The cell phone began buzzing on the table beside the bed. Bernard Bajolet opened his eyes, looked up at the ceiling for a second, and tried to guess what the call might be about. He held the phone to his ear.
“Monsieur, I’m sorry to call you at this hour,” the temporary assistant named Desiree began to justify herself.
“It is your job,” said Bernard, without much ado. “To the point.”