Originally Posted by rousseau

Good thing he'd forgotten to calibrate the cyto-titanium motion receptors back on Zarcon where he'd stopped for a material digitalization freshening up and a milkshake made from black hole dust. It turns out that instead of having just fifteen seconds of Earth time left as measured during the current 746th Oxlough Continuum Phase, or OCP (containing all of the time the earth has ever known, including what earth people liked to call 2010, or even 2012), by his very relieved calculations he actually had fifteen seconds x fifteen seconds x fifteen seconds x infinity seconds - 7 seconds left before his current iteration would disintegrate into something altogether too horrible to contemplate. He could even rise above the annoyance of not having those extra 7 seconds.

One could do a lifetime's worth of work in 7 of these earth seconds, he sniffed. But never mind. The Zornax was safe, after all. The Zornax had time. The Zornax had all the time in the world. Literally. Which was more than enough time to get to Veneto and pay homage to Tullio Campagnolo, as had been his mission since time immemorial back on his home planet of Lanceanus.

But now the question was, as a sentient being invisible to all save for the recently deceased Ashleigh, how was he going to travel from her closet in Toronto to Italy? The Continuum-Fabulator was useless, working only between worlds, not in them. He had no money. He had no credit cards. But worse: he had no physical dimensions or borders to his being as understood on this planet, and he couldn't speak any of the languages on earth, much less Italian or the snooty Canadianese of rich young pseudo-professional women slumming it in bought-and-paid-for condos along the lakeshore before being paired off with the industrial scions of their choosing.

Eh? So communication would be difficult. Movement would be difficult. Establishing a geographical position would be difficult. What would Mr. Campagnolo have done in a situation like this? How would he have solved the problem of efficient movement along inhospitable terrain?

The Zornax sat down (as much as such a being can be said to sit down) and thought. Hard. He thought so hard that the communication receptors embedded on the tips of his tactile engagers (as much as such a being, unfathomable by humans in space and time, can be said to have tactile engagers) began to quiver (as much as...okay, you get the picture).

And that was when something astonishing happened.