Something shot out of the box and into the air—Tick lost track of it before he could tell what it was. An odd thump filled the air, like the sound of a distant thunderclap. Tick reached up and rubbed his ears; they felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in them. He heard a faint buzz, like static on the radio.

Sally stood up, folded his arms, then grinned with satisfaction.

“Finally! Dadgum thing actually worked,” he said. “George ain’t never failed before—I reckon one of these days I’ll quit doubtin’ the old feller. But I didn’t wanna whip that sucker out ’til you knew who I was. We can talk now.”

Tick didn’t say a word—neither did his friends. The last few minutes had been so strange, so . . . weird, what were they supposed to say?

Sally laughed, a deep rumble that Tick swore shook the building. “You three look as twitterpated as a coon done found itself fallen in the outhouse bucket. Right diddly-widdly, I ain’t never seen such a sight before. What ya’ll
a-feared of? I had to play dress-up so Chu wouldn’t get all suspicious-like. Spies and such about, ya know.”

Still, none of them responded. Tick blinked, then swallowed. Then he blinked again.

“Snap out of it!” Sally roared. “We ain’t got no time to sit here throwin’ peepeyes. I got to hurry and gets myself on outta here.”

Sofia was the first one to speak. “It’s just, well, we didn’t . . . we didn’t know you were a Realitant.”

“Not to mention the news you just dropped in our laps,” Paul added. “I think I’m gettin’ too old for this stuff.”

“Nonsense,” Sally said, sitting on the bed and crossing his legs. As soon as he did, he winced and put both feet back on the floor. “Never did get how dem fancy lads like George sit that way. Yipes.”

The static-laced buzzing sound still filled the air; Tick rubbed his ears again. “Why is it okay to talk now? What was in the box?”

Sally huffed. “Boy, you think I got da first nary a clue what dat dang thing was? Round dem Realitant parts, I’m known for my brawn and grits-cookin’, not much on da brains. Ol’ George said pop that sucker open—called it a dang ol’ airborne nano whatchamerbucket—and we can talk. I done did it, and here I sit, talkin’ my silly head off, and we ain’t got nowhere fast.”

Tick took a deep breath before he’d realized it—a sigh of relief. Maybe the world wasn’t over after all.

“Sounds like you have a lot to tell us,” Sofia said.

Sally nodded. “Reckon so. Good gravy on raw beef, I ain’t got a clue where to git to start yappin’ on.”