Robin sat up -- a little too abruptly. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she fell back. She regarded her visibly-pregnant belly, horrified.
"Careful, girly," cackled the creepy little man. "Morning sickness gets kinda acute at eight months, don't it?"
"Who are you?" Robin demanded.
"Dibbler's the name, evil's the game," sneered the man.
"Dibbler?"
"CMOT Dibbler, to be exact. Little in-joke, you wouldn't understan--"
"I've read the Discworld novels," broke in Robin, impatiently. "But aren't you this sad sack who's always trying to sell people stuff a dog wouldn't eat? This impregnating and kidnapping business is a bit out of your league, wouldn't you say?"
Dibbler laughed maniacally. "Nothing's out of the league of ... an Author!"
Robin gasped. "You -- you're one of them? Those Avatar guys I've heard about, who've invated the Backstage?"
"Invaded, schmaded! What's the Backstage but just another part of the AddVenture, and ours to play with however we want? And why are you acting so surprised? After all, you were part of that firefight Demonica was talking about!"
Robin mentally shuffled threads and identities, until she found -- "Hey! You're right! And Rick was there! And that Uncle Sid guy! But how does that fit in with the Backstage I know?"
"What's the cross between an elephant and a rhinoceros?" asked Dibbler.
"Come again?"
"Just answer. It's the answer to your question."
"I haven't the faintest idea."
"Right sentiment, wrong wording."
Robin gritted her teeth. "You're toying with me! What's the fucking answer, old man?"
Dibbler shrugged. "Elephino," he said.
Robin groaned.
"And I'm not old," Dibbler sulked.
"You look like death warmed over."
"No, that would be Ghost Hand. An' I'm plenty young enough to knock you up, girly!"
"So it was you?"
Dibbler shrugged again. "Me, myself or I, there seem to be more than one of me these days, thanks to You Wish's curse. You were so big on your power over us poor, perverted Authors -- well, you can be really big on it, now!" He stabbed a dirty finger towards he belly. "How's that for power, girly?"
Robin turned up her lip, disgusted. "Not up to much," she said. "What kind of power is it when you don't even have the guts to do it yourself, but have to go with this virgin birth crap? What's the matter, you dirty old man? Couldn't get it up?"
Dibbler rose to his feet, an inarticulate cry bursting from his throat, and started towards her...
A big hole appeared in the middle of his chest. He looked down at it in disbelief, and then slowly toppled forward as his eyes glazed.
Behind him, bearing a smoking gun, stood an unpreposessing young man with no footwear.
"Sorry," said the newcomer. "I'd have been here to save you earlier, but I don't always know what Dibbler's thinking."
"What Dib-- how could you know what he's thinking?"
The newcomer shifted uncomfortably. "He's me -- sort of. A little while back I got split into good and evil personalities by a fellow Avatar who didn't like the way I was writing him. I'm the good half, in case you didn't guess. Name's Dabbler."
Robin's eyes almost glazed over too, trying to take this in. "I don't get it," she said finally. "How can an Author be more than one person? You're real, for Christ's sake!"
"No, I'm an Avatar. There's a difference. Dibbler and I have the same Original, it's true, but while we may stand in for him in the story, we're just as fictional as you are."
Robin exploded. "Than who is responsible for this?" she cried, thrusting her belly forward.
Dabbler colored. "I dunno. Dibbler took the blame, so I guess it's him. Although if you really want to pin it on someone, you should probably blame L.E. He's the one who optioned an Author pregnancy for you. Dibbler's just the one who ran with it."
"And where," seethed Robin, "do I talk to this L.E.?"
Dabbler laughed. "No one talks to L.E.! He just writes these things -- he doesn't put himself in them like some of us do! And bad things tend to happen when someone else puts him in. I'd give up on that idea if I were you!"
Robin slumped. "What can I do, then?"
"Well," said Dabbler, "you could stay here and go to term, or--"
"Here?!?! In his place?" She indicated the dead body of Dibbler.
"My place, actually," said Dabbler, firmly. "He keeps breaking into my Author Suite and crossing my name out when I'm not looking, but it's definitely my place. Surely you don't think he's the silk sheet type?"
"No," said Robin, "but you hardly seem that type either..."
"Um, yeah, well, before I was split I had this thing going, you see, I was going to restore a bunch of disempowered, transgendered avatars with sex. It started over in JigSaw's digs, but I was going to bring them here for the good part, so I--"
"Whipped up a bed two elephants could've mated on," noted Robin dryly. "Cute. Am I correct in assuming this 'You Wish' person you mentioned was one of your prospective victims?"
Dabbler got red again. "They weren't victims," he protested. "I was doing them a favor! It's not my fault their originals got wind of it and put the kibbosh on the whole thing! Hell, I didn't even get any! (Well, except for when I was restored, of course, but that's neither here nor there...)"
"When you-- you mean you were disempowered and transgendered, too?"
Dabbler got even redder. "You catch on entirely too fast," he muttered.
Robin broke into a fit of giggles. "So what were you like as a girl?" she chortled. "I see what your other self meant when he said there were several of you! Dabbler and Dibbler and..."
"Dribbler," Dabbler finished. "Figure out why yourself, if you want -- I'm sure not going to tell you!"
Robin's giggles got even more extreme, if possible. "I can imagine," she choked. "In the BE AddVenture that can only mean beaucoup lactation--! Oh my God! This hurts -- I think I ruptured something!"
Dabbler ran to her, suddenly concerned. "Are you okay? The baby--"
"Get away from me!" Robin snarled. "You wouldn't be half this concerned if it weren't your baby, I bet!"
Dabbler jumped back as if repelled. "Hey," he said, "don't get mad at me! I know what it's like to be a woman and have to have sex with a man, I was just--"
"Shut up! You've admitted you were planning to inflict the same thing on others when you were back to normal! Don't touch me!"
"Hey, I wasn't myself, I was sorta crazy then," Dabbler protested. "And who wouldn't be? But listen, all that craziness has gone into Dibbler now, I'm the one on your side."
"Yeah. Sure. And I'm still waiting to find out what I'm supposed to do now."
"I'd have told you if you hadn't interrupted. As I was saying, you could stay here--"
"No!"
"--but I wouldn't recommend it. Dibbler will probably come back to life once I leave, and you wouldn't be safe here. I suppose I could leave you with a colleague, Deja Voodoo -- he knows more about the Backstage than anyone, he could probably keep you safe--"
"Another Author? You think I'd trust any of you at this point?"
"--but he was kinda mad at me last I saw him, didn't want me fucking around with his Avatar, so maybe not... hey! I know! I can take you to Backstage Central!"
"What, the place that Uncle Sid guy hangs out?"
"Yeah, but Mirage is running the place at the moment, she's a Character and a woman like you -- a natural woman -- and she's chock full of magic and attitude, and she's got a flunky who can 'port away anyone she doesn't like!"
"And she's an arch-fiend in the Jasmine threads, so why should I trust her, either?"
"She's reformed. And she loves babies -- she's taking care of three of Sid's right now. No, if anyone would sympathize with your plight and have the gumption and power to stop Dibbler, she's your best bet. 'Course you can call me in if he gets after you again, too--"
"I'll take Mirage!" said Robin, hastily. "Just get me out of here!"
"Roger wilco," said Dabbler. The world wavered around them, and...
They were in Backstage Central, facing a diminutive red dragon in a birdcage.
"Shit, an Author," muttered the dragon. "Whatcha want, barefoot boy? An' who's the knocked-up broad?"
"Who wants to know?" Robin shot back.
The dragon pulled itself erect. "Who am I? Who am I? Girl, I am the--"
"His name's Fruitbat," Dabbler broke in. "He's the flunky."
Fruitbat seemed to deflate. "Just for that, I'm gonna call Mirage on you," he said, and sucked in air to shout.
"Don't bother, bat," said a voice behind him. "I'm here." Mirage stepped out from behind the birdcage.
Robin boggled. The cat head she'd been expecting, but the three breasts--?"
"Hi, Mirage," said Dabbler. "Gotta favor to ask ya."
"Yeah, I've read the episode," Mirage told him. "One thing we've got lots of back here, it's reading material."
"How can you have read the episode?" Dabbler demanded. "It's not finished yet!"
"What can I say? I'm magic." She looked at Robin. "You can stay, if that's truly your wish," she told her. "And if Dabbler promises to do his part to keep Dibbler out."
"Oh I will, don't worry," said Dabbler.
"I've got one of the guest rooms all set up," Mirage went on, ignoring him. "And when your child comes you can either keep it or leave it with me -- the kids would love a new playmate."
"Sounds like the best offer I'm likely to get," Robin sighed. "But do I really have a choice?"
"Storywise, yes. Metaphysically, probably not. But I'm certainly not going to keep you here if you don't want to stay. It's not like I don't have enough work to do around here..."
"I could take that off your hands, remember," said Fruitbat, hopefully.
"Shut up, bat. Let the lady answer."
"I'll stay," Robin decided.
Dabbler breathed a sigh of relief. "Great!" he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me? It's been long enough I've probably got to hunt Dibbler down and kill him again..." And Dabbler 'ported out.
"Come, Robin," said Mirage. "I'll show you to your room."
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Mon Apr 23 14:49:30 2001
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