Time Flies

 “Of course!” Rene croaks diving into the cafeteria trashcans, an arrow in his thigh. Scuttering for cover in the spilled cereal and salad, he wipes Manzano from his eyes, thinking:  Its bleeding bad. But not femoral bad.

It’s suddenly obvious that the supposed 9^th planet is not rocky or gassy. It’s not a planet. A bowling ball size black hole accounts for the trans-Neptunian gravitational eccentricities. Elegant paper this will make!  A black hole at 400 au in the Kyber belt.

A second arrow strikes his neck.

“Just need …Time!” he burbles through blood and fly-specked goo. 

The student approaches, sneering. “Time? You know nothing.  You laughed at my work on Chronons. Well, wasn’t kidding about crossbows at noon, doc. Consider my honor restored. ”

A fly settles on Rene’s eye.  

“Time you see, professor, flies like an arrow.” He waves the pests away, “And fruit flies like a banana.”