everything went black.
A penguin. A flightless bird with rubbery skin and a penchant for black and white. And normally the kind of bird who was quite at home in the cold. As far back as Gerald could remember, he had always been a penguin, ever since he was born. But there had always been this nagging inkling at the back of his mind that kept telling him that he was meant for greater things and that this rubbery complexion and cold atmosphere comprised only a temporary setback. And one day, he might even have the distinct pleasure of stopping the world from destroying itself. But after all, that was only an inkling and Gerald was only a penguin, and so he never really put much more thought into things than that.
Yesterday had been no different than the day before, and today had been no different than yesterday. He had a sneaking suspicion that tomorrow was going to be very much the same, as well. He'd get up, eat some fish, find somewhere semi-private to do his morning business. Maybe he'd waddle around a bit and stare menacingly at other penguins who usually were not in the least bit intimidated and had long ago just taken to ignoring Gerald altogether. And then, just after lunch and a second helping of fish, he'd swim off to his cave and have a nice little nap without all this chatter going on in the background.
It was like a constant cocktail party going on and whether he wanted an invitation or not, it was mandatory to attend. But not Gerald; he had his cave.
"In fact, I think I'll pay it a bit of a visit." And with that, he dived into the water and headed straight for his tunnel, weaving a bit here and there so as to lose anyone who might think of following him.
The cave was exactly how he'd left it the previous day; he slid out of the water on his stomach and skidded happily across the ice. The ice in here was so clear that he could see into it, showing reflections and a blue swirly thing. That was what Gerald had been looking at for a while.
In the very centre of the cave there was an almost perfectly formed block of ice about twenty feet high, and each side measuring a width of about ten feet. But that wasn’t what was amazing. Although it was quite amazing that there was an almost perfectly rectangular block of ice in the centre of an ice cave within an iceberg somewhere in the South Pole, what was more amazing was the blue swirly thing that seemed to be trapped within the oversize dice cube.
Of a clear, deep blue colour, it spiraled up in a swirly kind of formation within the ice. It looked very much like it should be moving but the ice seemed to prevent motion. Gerald had waddled around the cube many times. Today was the first day he'd noticed a flaw. The cube seemed to be melting, which was very unusual, as Gerald was definitely not feeling any warmer. He waddled around to another side, which also turned out to be melting.
A thought slowly crept into his head; it felt like it had traveled a great distance. In actual fact, the notion originated from within a fishbowl somewhere in London's East End. It simply said,
duck
. And Gerald did. Just in time. The ice block exploded, unleashing the blue swirly thing, which swirled in a hyper-hurricane type of way, with bits of electrical charges thrown in for good measure. Chunks of ice flew by Gerald, then all of a sudden stopped, as if frozen in time. For a moment, everything seemed to stop; even the blue swirly thing slowed down. Gerald experienced one of those rare times when his mind turned completely blank. This was a rare occurrence for anyone, but happened on a daily basis to someone, somewhere in the world. Usually, to someone presented with an impossibly impossible situation who didn’t know what to do about it.
Gerald staggered forward a few steps as if he'd been pushed.
Nope, wait a minute
. He'd been pulled. Chunks of ice began flying back past him as the blue swirly thing shifted directions. Before, it had been spinning anti-clockwise. It appeared to
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