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Intragalaxy E=mc*q E-books First and Final

INTRAGALAXY

 

E=mc*q

 

E-NOVELS FIRST AND FINAL

 

ipam

 

 

Shakespir Edition Copyright 2016 Pamela Joan Barlow Shakespir Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Shakespir.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

Intragalaxy translations for earthlings

 

 

Planets:

 

 

Chamme: eastern exo-planetoid and two dwarf stars

 

Detz: western planet, cold sea home of the octopus-kind species

 

Fw’tang: eastern planetoid, four moons, one dwarf star, home of Princess Te’ton

 

Garon: western planet, cool, humid home of the wolf-kind species

 

Gesclide: western planet, ice and cold home of the rat-kind species

 

Harrogate: western planet, warm, dry home of the zebra-kind species

 

Koorskis: exo-planetoid middle of Intragalaxy, mild, mellow home of the golden beer and golden tinted human-kind colony

 

Lavan: smallest stationary moon, closest to the eastern edge of the galaxy, home of human-kind Aubie and Duce

 

Mercian: western planet, two moons and closest to the sun, hot and humid home of Dihe headquarters

 

Purpat: western planet, hot and humid home of the bee-kind species

 

The Pit: Dihe arena of competition fighting

 

Ultimedia: western exo-planet of Intragalaxy, home of Vilo

 

 

Characters:

 

 

Apifo, bee-like species, four inches short, yellow skin

 

Aviion, bird-like species, eight inches short, curly dark red hair

 

BUDI driver: person operates a Body Uniform Defense Implacement flying robot

 

Canini: wolf-like species, six feet tall, brown fur, sharp fangs

 

Dihe Master: male Dihe adult

 

Dihe Mistress: female Dihe adult

 

Dihe: supernatural life form with white colored ejon on finger nails and toe nails

 

Feliux: cat-species, six feet tall, ebony skin and colored markings, a long tail

 

First Prime: female or male Dihe teenager

 

High Dihe Master: male Dihe leader

 

High Dihe Mistress: female Dihe leader

 

Mustela, ferret-like species, white and tan fur, eight feet tall, smelly musky body odor

 

Noti: an isolated human clan of ejon Touchers on planet Mercian

 

Pacderdom: elephant-like species, white curly hair and a pair of red tusks

 

Primeling: female or male Dihe toddler

 

Rogentila: rat-like species, four feet tall with purple skin and pink welts of poison

 

Second Prime: female or male Dihe youngster

 

Singa: monkey-like species, seven feet tall, no tail, orange fur

 

Theria: zebra-like species, beige mane and tail, four hoofs, green hair, crooked kneecaps

 

Toucher: life form holds the Touch of ejon on finger nails and toe nails

 

Vilo: mysterious and unknown supernatural life forms with colored ejon (purple, blue, green, etc) on finger nails and toes nails

 

 

Phrases:

 

 

bato: weapon and tool of the Dihe tribe member

 

best blossom: best friend of girl or girlfriend to a male

 

best bud: bestest friend of boy or boyfriend to a female

 

blossom: friend of girl

 

bud: friend of boy

 

BUDI: robot-like human without skull, neck, and collar bone

 

cambeam: image or data from a camtube or cammic

 

cammic: telephone

 

campad: computer

 

camtube: television

 

choker: hot dog

 

cockshuts: quail

 

coturn: pig

 

cruncher: chocolate candy bar

 

dack: darn

 

doofur: dork

 

doughies: donuts

 

dust bannies: dust bunnies

 

echino: star fish

 

ejon: glowing fingernails and toenails of Dihe and Vilo

 

fisser: soda

 

hof: house

 

jo-jo doll: toy doll of female toddler

 

lumpie: potato chips

 

mower: cow

 

mu-mu chick: wingless song birds

 

noob: fool

 

Noot: Need tO ejOn iT

 

pacer: flies over land

 

rover: rovers on land

 

scooter: underwater body boat

 

shives: money

 

slider: snake

 

spinner: outer space ship travel from planet to planetoid to star

 

Tag: Dihe physical and mental test of current Prime rank

 

toar: toad

 

Touch: supernatural ejon of glowing fingernails and toenails

 

trawler: worms

 

wane: cool

 

 

 

Chapter One

Planet Fw’tang

 

 

Present day and place

 

 

Fw’tang is the name of the main planet with four moons and a green dwarf star, warming the planet in a blanket of light tint of mint green. It is located on the extreme eastern edge of Intragalaxy. Fw’tang is a lush green world of forests, drinking rivers, food crops, plant fields, and flower valleys, housing almost the entire population of Fw’tanians. The four moons do not orbit around the planet but remain in a stationary position, displaying an outer space design like one of four edges of an invisible box which orbits around the green dwarf star.

The northeastern moon occupies the hottest zone around the planet and is called Oi’tang. The families of Oi’tang happily live and mine the precious crystals, creating the facial decoration for the species-kind. The weather is heated during the day, coming from the yellow deserts and then is cooler during the evening inside the underground caverns for gathering the silver crystal minerals.

The northwestern moon is called Se’tang, coming from the warm waters for swimming, not fishing.

The coldest zone around the Fw’tang moon is called Ug’tang which located inside the southwestern zone of the night sky. Ug’tang is composed of tall towers of solid ice walls. Between the ice walls, they are deep ice rivers that are filled with numerous sea mammals. The most popular sea mammal is the echino. An echino has five points around a circular body, glowing in different shade of colors like yellow, pink, red, and green.

Each color represents a particular taste upon the tongue for the Fw’tanian. The green is a tart taste. The red is hot spicy favor. The pink is sweet, a special flavor and favorite for children. The yellow is tangy.

The southeastern moon is called Mm’tang. The moon grows cool lush flowers and forests for hunting earth-breeding mammals that are used for both clothing and meats.

The Fw’tanians species are petite, no taller than four feet and nine inches with a tone of very dark skin, coming from the bright sun and a head of long black course hair. The face is embedded with a set of glittering silver tiny speckles of crystals. The crystals form a unique pattern on the face between the forehead, the jaw line, the nose bridge, both cheekbones, and both earlobes.

Inside the womb of the mother, each baby develops an array of tiny empty circular skin pockets around the face. After the birth, a single crystal is dropped down and embedded into the individual baby tissue pockets, where the tissue grows around the individual crystals, creating a distinct facial pattern for each Fw’tanian child.

The Fw’tang culture is ruled by a royal family, consisting of a king, a queen, and only one child. Since two or more siblings produce greed and jealous that usually ruin the leadership of the planet, sometimes the entire civilization. This practice has existed for eons of time since the beginning of Intragalaxy.

When the single child marries and produces only one baby during her parents’ reign, the married child will inherit all the royal duties of Fw’tang culture. If the current prince or princess produces two or more children, then another Fw’tang young married couple with a single babe takes over the royal couple’s palace, duties, and space.

 

 

Moon Oi’tang

Green sky and green ice

Late afternoon

Cold temperatures without clouds

 

 

Princess Te’ton is eighteen years old and unmarried, testing for her future prince-husband with two candidates. She wears a blue ice suit, covering the throat down to her matching boots, holding a blue helmet and stands in front of her individual spinner outer space ship with two beaus.

The beaus admire her eyelashes, standing on each side of the spinner ship and wears a blue colored ice suit also, holding a helmet too.

She smiles as her facial crystals glitter silvery within the dull green light. Her facial tissue of crystal forms a set of three perfect square figures on the right side of her face. The crystals fill a box from the tip of the forehead and then around the eyebrow. A second box shows on her right cheekbone and a finally box starts even with her right lip that goes down toward the jaw line. “Our task today, gentlemen, my daddy likes to eat fresh echinos for our supper time tonight which are located down there,” she points with a smirk down below the three hundred foot cliff that drops straight down into the ice cold river water of Moon Oi’tang. Te’ton is allowed to select any male as her prince-husband. However, the male must pass a battery of her selected husband-tests. Then she picks the one, who survives.

So far, there are two contenders left within her competition.

The competition had started three weeks ago with fifteen prince-suitors, who had dropped out or had died from the feat.

Pl’met is tall for an Fw’tanian, standing at five feet and zero inches. His head of black shoulder length hair blows around his face from the cold ice wind on Oi’tang. He nods and winks at his competition for the approved marriage of Princess Te’ton. His facial tissue zigzags side to side, coming from the right temple, across the right eyebrow, then across the upper nose bridge, and down toward the lower left earlobe. Then the facial tissue turns downward, cutting across the left lip, and then down toward the right jaw line. The crystals glitter from his smirk with a tenor timber. “I enjoy echinos, too.”

Le’man is average height of four feet and ten inches for a male with head of short cropped black hair. His facial tissue forms a horizontal band, coming down from the upper ear and across both eye sockets toward the other side of the ear. The lower half of his face is naked, which is rare, among the Fw’tang males. Therefore, he has grown a set of facial black colored beard whiskers, covering the lips and the jaw line. When the princess giggles, he boldly strokes the hairy face with a wink at her. Le’man stomps forward with a smile, extending an open palm. She raises a hand with the desired gesture. He leans down and kisses her open hand, standing upright with a wink and a smile at her twinkling crystals. “I am ready for some deadly hunting, too.”

Te’ton reached out and gently caresses his glittery crystals with a red colored fingernail and a smirk, “Excellent, Le’man!” She flips and drops down a hand, turning with a smile and a nod to see the other male. “We eat in two hours. This gives us plenty of time to find and locate the echinos, then bath and wash up, before supper. My daddy likes the green ones, five in total. I like the pink ones, two for me. My mama likes the orange ones, three for her. And don’t forget to capture your own supper, since we do not share at the supper table,” she lifts and lowers the helmet over the hair roots and the face, locking it in place and activates the beacon signal and external light for finding her supper also.

Each male lifts and covers a face with the breathing helmet, turning and mounts the underwater scooter also.

The scooter is a traveling devise, sailing a person down from the top of the ice cliff and deep into the deep ocean. The ice cliff is a solid wall of ice with no steps or stairs. This is the only transport method of catching food on Oi’tang. The river basin is thirty feet wide between the ice cliffs which cannot support any other type of flying or pacing vehicle.

Te’ton turns and mounts her scooter, standing on a pair of booted feet, clicking an upright body into a set of safety belts around the breasts, the waist, the kneecaps, and the ankles. She activates the device, pressing a right gear with the foot. The scooter lifts and hovers up from the ice cliff, soaring toward the edge of cold air. She slowly advances forward from the edge and hovers in the air, pressing the left gear lever, backing up the scooter into the wall of ice, waiting on the two males.

The males duplicate her movement, hovering between a princess.

Te’ton turns inside the breathing helmet and winks with a grin at each male, swinging a helmet, looking ahead at the opposite cliff wall. She presses the button as the scooter swiftly drops her feet first straight down three hundred feet at breathing-taking speed. She slowly exhales and inhales without getting sick or vomiting inside her helmet, some of the younger teens perform a first water dive on Moon Oi’tang. She plummets down the ice wall, so fast, that the opposite wall is one continuous blur of green.

The engine of the scooter is below her two boots over a horizontal platform that curves and supports her back spine also. She smooth dives down deep into the ice water, without a splash, descending fifty feet without touching the bottom which is three miles down to the ocean floor. She presses a button, freeing a body from the horizontal safety belts as the engine of the scooter floats sideways. She holds both hand on a set of right and left handle bars, stretching a body sideways too, resting across the flat platform on her stomach, waiting and waits for the two males.

Each male executes the water dive maneuver perfectly, too.

Te’ton is having trouble figuring out which male to eliminate, since they both are cute and daring, following her down the cliff dive, hunting for echinos for tonight’s supper dinner with her parents at the royal palace. She turns and nods to each male inside her helmet, pressing the hand level. The machine moves forward as she stretches a set of limbs into a comfortable position over the flat platform. She presses the button as a set of horizontal safety belts flip up and over her body again, keeping Te’ton inside the scooter rather than floating up and down as she soars through the water for her supper meal.

She lowers the gear, expanding a pair of the metal dual claws from the front grill for upcoming capturing her prey and presses a second button, releasing the netting for holding her upcoming captured prey.

Te’ton is ready for her fun. She scans the lights at the sea rocks, along the sea trees, and at the other sea mammals, hunting for the glowing echinos, too. The echinos are easy to spot, without the lighting beams. But she is in competition too with the males, giggling inside her helmet, shining the light beams around the cold brown ice water.

 

 

Planet Fw’tang

Spinner dock platform

Late afternoon

Warm temperatures with sunshine, slight breeze

 

 

Vr’tish is a four feet and seven inches adult instructor with a long black ponytail and a set of black facial whiskers. His facial tissue cuts across the forehead from side to side and then forms a rough looking T-mark between the eyebrows, completely covering a nose bridge and then goes down to the top of the lips. He paces side to side in front of the new batch of students with nervousness, daring a first outer space flight from planet Fw’tang into the cold blackness of Intragalaxy and stops, turning to see each student with a stern face. “Let’s briefly review before we flight off the planet into space and beyond the lighted stars. I know that you are a lot of nervous and a little excited. I am, too. Alright, someone please explain the spinner which is behind your back spine.”

Fu’yar is a four feet and six inches short female teen with a head of waist-length hair. Her facial tissue cuts down from a left ear, across a left cheekbone and the upper nose bridge and then goes diagonally into a right template. She raises a hand and clears a throat with a smile to the adult instructor. “The spinner looks funny for a reason. The entire body is shaped like a disc-shaped object with a circular design which is called a saucer-ship. The name reflects the shape of the flying craft. The outer space ship has no moving parts like wheels or wings which is similar to the construction or repair land craft. The top half of the disc is completely made of smooth metal of silver-tinting without an external viewing window or an engine stream portal exhaust that shoots out a set of invisible charged ion particles. The silver alloy comes from the planetoid of Chamme, where the mineral is grown deep within the soil and then mined for usage throughout Intragalaxy. Also on top of the upper disc, there is a clear circular tip which houses a series of invisible ions of positive and negative charged particles. ”

Vr’tish nods with smile, “Very good, Fu’yar, now, I see the hand of De’ual.”

De’aul is four feet and seven inches short teen male with a long black ponytail and a clean shaven face. His facial tissue runs along the outside of an oval face, coming from the jaw line and up toward the template, and then across his forehead. It goes down the other side toward the left jaw line. He does not smile, saying with a serious tone. “The disc is divided by a set of navigation lights between the disc plates, almost glowing in red colors when powered. The light signals means the ship is powered and moving. When the lights are off, like now, the ship is powered down or stopped. The bottom half of the disc is smooth metal without windows also. There is a small embedded circle that is build on the bottom of the saucer ship, capturing all the free ions within the atmosphere, allowing the shifting beams to lift the ship from the ground. The beams also propel the ship across the river of time.”

“Very good point, De’aul,” Vr’tish nods with a smile to each student. “Your spinner skips across the river of time at 1,200 miles per hours. However, you will not race about that fast today with me as your leader and protector. Or you will not receive your first flier certificate.” The students moan. He nods with a stern face and a stern tone. “I will quickly repeat the rules for piloting the ship, before we enter for the brief lecture. No weaving side to side like a flying kite. No flipping the saucer up or down. No flashing your navigation beams at each other for fun. So now, let’s load in the spinner, belonging to teen student Fu’yar for a quick lesson of piloting.”

 

 

Interior cabin of spinner ship of Fu’yar

 

 

The student enters through the open hatchway one at a time, standing the round shaped cockpit room with a set of giggles and smiles of anticipated excitement.

Vr’tish enters through the hatchway last, flinging both arms, stopping and stands along a wall, saying with a nod and a stern face to each student. “The spinner craft is one room. You can see the cockpit is one continuous circular wall that makes up the one room. The walls are silver tinted with the same mineral as the external disc along with a set of chairs that encircle the rounded room. The chairs are bolted down on the wall and on the floor. This is a training model of our saucer ship. That’s why there are chairs lining the walls for students to wet their travel jumper and scream of fear from novice student pilot,” chuckling. “However, each one of you already wetted your uniform and screamed from fear to arrive here today for your first flier test. So, there will be no students traveling with you. This is your personal outer space voyage for obtaining your permit to fly beyond the stars,” smiling.

“Usually, the travel spinner has a separate section around the circular wall that is marked for various activities, such like, an expedition to another planet for scientific research. Each section would hold one or two chairs, looking at a camtube screen, recording all the new information. There are usually about four different sections with a set of low built-in wall cabinets between the sections for storing equipment and such-like. All our travel models do not have external or internal sets of individual viewing windows either due to the stellar winds, dust clouds of radiation, and gas vapors of toxins. There is a trap door on top of the ceiling, hiding the sleeping compartment. Each separate compartment holds one person comfortably while venturing around the galaxy. Some of the travel models have a trap door on the flooring for additional storage of items or persons, such like, small children or animals. Our travel model does not, because it is a training model which sometimes ends up damaged by a trainee,” chuckling. “That will not be happening today, right, students?”

“The center console is a circular wall and hollow. The wall is never ever opened or destroyed. The hollow cylinder is the device that transfers the positive and negative ion exchange during your vertically lift off from the surface and then flies the ship horizontally over the river of time, and finally lands the ship vertically on top of the planet or another semi-flat surface of any celestial body, even a comet, if need be.

Above the circular wall is a clear top of the hollow cylinder, where all the invisible positive and negative ions gather and hold as you fly around and view our beautiful Intragalaxy, traveling over the river of time, going from planet to planet to star to planetoid. Now, ions are invisible, so you will not see any colorization within the cylinder tip. It will always look and stay clearly colorless. Around the enclosed hollow wall is the piloting console and around the console is a circular table. The table only exists to hold up the viewing monitor, a panorama view of the galaxy in the front disc on both sides of the disc and behind the rear disc for fun.

“The circular viewing window is always functioning. In my entire forty years of flying, I have never seen a viewing window blacken. Attached below the viewing window, there is the circular console for the pilot. There is one bolted chair, only the pilot. Some of the travel models have a single chair going around the axis of the console for viewing the rear and both sides of disc, seeing outer space. The forward viewing window is only dedicated to the pilot for steering the saucer ship. The pilot chair has a panel with one lever. The lever holds one vertical stick. Push the stick forward, the ship skips over the river of time. Pull the stick backwards, the ship sails backward. However, I will caution, now.

“You do not operate the saucer ship backward for any reason. The river of time shuffles the saucer ship along the path of charges particles of positive ions. If you maneuver the ship backward, then you will ram your buddy, who is flying behind you which will cause great damage to the ship and the passengers and trouble for me. No. No. No. Slide the level side to side for avoiding the red puddles of radiation. Someone, please explain the red puddles within the river of time.”

Fu’yar raises a hand with a smile to the instructor. “The river of time, in appearance, is patterned, after one of our water rivers here on Fw’tang. However, the river of time flows beside Fw’tang. Our planet river contains water and fish and plants and flowers, flowing in the direction of north to south. The outer space river is colored a neon pretty bright blue. I see it from my bedroom window,” giggling. “The outer space river of time is made of charged particles of positive and negative ions that smoothly flow from one end of Intragalaxy to the other, even thou I have never seen the opposite end of Intragalaxy. The river of time is broken into two directions. One direction travels east which is near us, going toward the end of Intragalaxy. The other direction travels far away from us in the opposite direction of west. And I guess into the other end of Intragalaxy. When you skip over the river, your spinner will travel in the eastern direction away from Fw’tang toward the gas vapors and dust clouds which marks the end of Intragalaxy.”

Vr’tish nods with a smile, “Very good, Fu’yar, you will be the second spinner to exit from our planet behind me. I am the teacher and the leader. Follow the leader,” chuckling. “The river of time has two avenues or pathways or directions. One goes west and one goes east. Within the river of time, there are red colored puddles. Who wants to explain the red puddles?”

De’aul raises a hand with a nod and a stern face to the instructor. “Along the neon blue river, there are assorted red puddles of radiation. You must skip over each red puddle, that’s the purpose of the vertical lever to go side to side. You slip the lever to the opposite side of the red puddle. There are not a lot of red puddles and you can see them on the viewing screen, before you hit it. The river is wide enough to maneuver around them.”

Vr’tish nods with a smile. “Very good, De’aul, you will be the third spinner to exit from our atmosphere behind Fu’yar. To add to the discussion, within the river of time, we have never ever traveled west, except when the mission party travels west to the exo-planetoid Chamme. Our planet Fw’tang has every type of accommodation for our survival and our pleasure. Let’s review the pilot’s job. When you leave our planet, you will jerk the level forward which will jump your spinner into the blue ravine that runs along the southern side of the planet. The ravine is an offshoot of the river of time which is blue colored also. The only purpose today, sail the spinner into the river of time for transportation throughout Intragalaxy. What else do we need to discuss today before your first voyage?” He hears silence from the students with a nod and a smile. “We are ready. This is Fu’yar’s spinner ship. Everyone exit and go into your ship!”

All the students move and exit her spinner along with the adult instructor.

Fu’yar spins with a giggle in a circle, watching the other student exit from her personal saucer ship, swinging around and scoots into the pilot chair. She rubs a pair of sweaty hands from nervousness. This is her first solo flying alone for her pilot’s certificate. Then she would be able to fly to any of the moons by herself or take some of her friends. Her parents have promised an ice trip to moon Oi’tang for echinos, next week. She reached and touches the smooth pilot console of cool metal with both her hands, hearing through the cammic box.

The adult instructor Vr’tish sits inside his personal spinner and says via the cammic speaker box to each student. “Press the yellow button for ignition, students.”

Fu’yar reaches and ignites the saucer ship, hearing nothing. There are no moving parts and no sound echoes as the spinner sits inside the dirt soil.

Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student. “Press the green button for hovering, students.”

Fu’yar reaches and presses the green button as her spinner slowly lifts up from the hard pavement and flies in the air. The bottom circle does not move either, since is gathering zillions of positive and negative charged ions that come from the natural air atmosphere on planet Fw’tang for a perfect lift-off procedure.

Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student. “I am lifting off first. Fu’yar has earned the second flight position for answering my posed engineering questions. De’aul will launch in the third flight position for his correct engineering answers. The rest of the students will lift off, going in alphabetic order as scheduled and discussed in class this morning, before we advanced onto the docking field. I am slowly shifting my level forward and then my ship will advance toward the ions of the ravine. I will slowly sail down the ravine and then wait at the edge of the river of time for all the students to lift-off, one at a time. I do not want any accidents here or failure for certain. I will lead us toward the edge of Intragalaxy and then slowly turn to the left, going away from the dust clouds and gas vapors that can damage you and the ship.”

Fu’yar watches inside the viewing window on the side of the console.

The adult instructor Vr’tish slowly lifts the spinner from the pavement and then slowly flies forward out of her disc range, avoiding a crash.

She wipes a set of sweaty hands with a giggle and a grin onto the jumper, reaching and touches the single level with a flying hand, gently shifts it forward. Her ship slowly flies across the pavement without sound but wobbles side to side. Her nervousness has shifted the level side to side as the ship obeys the command. She slowly shifts the level into the middle as the ship stops wobbling side to side. She slowly advances forward, seeing the tall trees become smaller and the tall houses appear tiny. The white clouds break apart from the metal disc, hitting the fluffy fields of air. Then she sees the blue ravine.

The blue ravine is a celestial body of Intragalaxy that is born within the universe. It is hundred feet wide, easier accommodating a sixty foot saucer ship, flowing sideways inside the viewer window, twinkling in electric blue colors, shining the ions. The blue are the positive and negative ions, making love to each other.

She giggles with a grin from the silly explanation of De’aul but likes to listen to him. He is the reason that she is so smart in both her engineering and math classes.

Fu’yar shifts the level forward, until it locks in place. Then the ship hits the ravine with a powerful jolt. She tilts to the side, almost falling out of the pilot chair, catching both hands onto the console, forgetting to web a body into the safety belts. She frowns with annoyance, reaching down and locks a torso and an abdomen into the setoff safety belts for the next unexpected jolt, since this is her first time to sail over the river of time.

Vr’tish leads the first spinner and says via the cammic speaker box to each student, “Excellent job, Fu’yar! There is a slight jolt when the ship hits the ravine. Be careful!”

Fu’yar whispers with a sour frown. “Yeah, I figured that one out, too late.”

Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student. “De’aul is behind you, Fu’yar. Do not touch the level anymore. Your ship will float toward me by itself over the ravine and then gently slide into the river of time. However, the river of time doesn’t control the speed of the ship. That is you. You need to twist the red knob on the right side of console, lock it in place at 200 miles per hour, before you ram into my disc.”

Fu’yar turns and views the knob plate, seeing the count of speed, swiftly moving up toward 200 miles per hours. She nods, twisting and locks the lever at 200 miles per hour as her ship smoothly glides over the ravine and then sees the entrance point of the river of time.

Her viewing window shows the panorama view of the river, floating perpendicular to the ship. The twinkling blue has some tiny sparkles of white and pink too. It glows toward the east for miles before her eyeballs can only see the twinkles of fine blue specs. “Wow, this is so cool,” she smiles with a natural voice, since her cammic speaker monitor is off, because multiple communication remarks could be heard by the instructor and her school mates. Her ship smoothly glides onto the river of time, seeing the rear end saucer ship of adult instructor Vr’tish.

On the saucer ship of Vr’tish, the navigation beams glow in bright red colors against the black outer space sky, giving the metal an orange tint. He slowly advances forward from her, allowing the column of saucer ships to fall behind him. He paces at 200 miles per hour with Fu’yar following behind.

She turns and scans the viewer window.

The saucer ship of De’aul appears like Vr’tish’s with a set of red navigation beams of an orange tint, indicating that his ship is powered and functioning within normal parameters.

She turns and scans the other side of the viewer window, seeing the parallel neon blue of the river of time, heading back toward the west like a divided roadway. There are not any spinner ships on the parallel river of time, since they are traveling toward the edge of Intragalaxy.

There is nothing there but plumes of pink gas vapors, flowing side to side that is mixed with the bubbles of yellow dust clouds of radiation. Thus, the image is pretty but deadly.

If the saucer ship contacts the pink gas and yellow dust, it is okay. If the ship becomes damaged with a single cracked wall or a shattered tip on the cylinder or a bottom circle is broken, then the pilot and all the passengers would suffocate in one point two seconds and then die. All compliments of the poisoned air of radiation.

No life form lives in radiation within Intragalaxy.

She turns and scans the viewer window in the rear, seeing a line orange tinted saucer ships, representing the sixteen students from her training flight class. She turns and scans the other side of the viewer window, passing the parallel river of time, flowing in the directional east. There are numerous yellow stars, white stars, blue stars, and red stars that line cold and black outer space sky, representing hundreds of colonies of life forms.

Currently, the royal king of Fw’tang does not allow visitation to any other colony of life forms, but Fu’yar hopes that Princess Te’ton will change that.

Princess Te’ton likes her daring adventures. She is testing for a husband-mate at the moment for her upcoming royal marriage. If she only produces one child, she will be the next queen with the ideas of traveling to all the different pretty colored stars.

Planet Fw’tang can sustain life and a good economic living on the planet for many centuries. But teen Fu’yar shares the same dream of traveling away from her native home for fun and adventure.

Her saucer ship skips smoothly along the river of time.

Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student, “A red puddle ahead, please slow down to 100 miles per hour.”

Fu’yar reaches and twists the knob as the ship reduces speed. She doesn’t really feel any motion inside her seat from the smooth maneuver. She watches the speed gauge drop down to 100 miles per hour and then sees the ship of Vr’tish slide to the left and then around the red puddle.

The red puddles are round, bright red in color. You can’t miss the monster. Each red puddle varies in wide. This particular one is twenty feet wide in the middle of the blue. It sparks in fiery red and yellow sparks from the boiling surface of the heated and hot radiation.

Fu’yar turns and shifts the level toward the left and moves away from the red puddle and then straightens the ship back into the straight line, following directly behind the ship of Vr’tish. She exhales with a sour frown. “This is really boring. I wished that we could turn toward the west and see more of the pretty stars.” Her ship wobbles side to side. She giggles with a nod inside the webbing of the pilot seat. “Wow, this is funner.” Her ship stops wobbling and then smoothly glides down the river of time.

Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student. “Calm down, students, that was…was something. We are…are approaching the edge of Intragalaxy…”

De’aul says via the cammic speaker box to each student and the instructor. “Sir, we have another 5,000 miles to travel before reaching the edge of Intragalaxy. At 1,200 miles per hour, it would take a ship another four hours and fifteen minutes, before we shall encounter the pretty dusty tips of Intragalaxy based on my engineering numbers and my daddy,” chuckling. “So why are you saying that?”

Fu’yar turns and scans the front viewer window, seeing another red puddle, reaching and shifts the level to the left, avoiding the puddle and jerks it back into straight line behind the adult instructor. She turns and sees the side viewer window of the blue river, then Vr’tish’s ship, and sees beyond his ship. There are flecks of tiny glowing yellow, pink, blue, red, green, purple, orange colors, within a massive brown cloud.

The brown cloud encompasses the entire viewer window of her ship in the front and on both sides like the massive phenomena. And the massive phenomena is expanding, crawling, and growling, over the blackness outer space.

She smiles with a whisper at the viewer window, “How interesting? We get to fly through a brown dust cloud of yellow hydrogen.” She turns and double checks the instrument panel. Her breathing air gauge is full. Her beam lights are powered on. Her cylinder tip is clear of any debris. Her ions gauge is charged. She is ready to fly through the dust cloud for some outer space fun.

Vr’tish turns and scans the viewer window in front of his ship with a puzzled brow, saying into the cammic speaker box to each student. “Yes, you are correct again, De’aul. I see the pink gases and yellow clouds within the brown cloud pattern, but I am at a loss for an explanation.”

De’aul says via the cammic speaker box to each student and the instructor with a stern tone. “Vr’tish, there are numerous red puddles behind me. Some of the students have hit the red puddles. They are stuck or sinking or something.”

Fu’yar turns and scans the viewer window in the rear, seeing a batch of bright red puddles with curiosity. Her ship just passed through that portion of the river of time. There was only a single red puddle of twenty feet wide and ten feet long. Now, the red colors have expanded into numerous bigger puddles and smaller puddles. She whispers for her eardrums only with fear. “How is this possible?” Some of saucer ships could not sail around the bigger puddles, since the engineering of the saucer ship only operates on both positive and negative ions that flow inside the river of time.

The saucer ship cannot fly out into cold and black outer space sky, without a running engine. The running engine ancient technology existed a long time ago, before the invention of the ion particle wave, utilizing the power of the river of time.

The student inside the spinner yells via the cammic speaker box to the other students and the instructor. “Help me! I’m stuck! My boots are getting hot! My hands are burning…”

Fu’yar frowns with worry, sailing farther away from some of the stranded students as her ship roughly skips over the river of time.

Vr’tish yells via the cammic speaker box to each student with a worried brow. “All stop! Press the red knob and slow your ship down to zero point zero rate of speed. We will stay here and help the other students. As a matter of fact, the training models do not have rescue equipment. I am contacting all the rescue ships. Everyone stay off the communication mode now!”

Fu’yar turns and twists the dial down to zero point zero as the spinner slows and then slows slower and then slow slowest and then finally halts inside the river of time. The ions particles on the bottom of the ship barely hold the ship above the river of time.

The river of time floats all day and night, going round and round like a circle from east to west, carrying the positive and negative ionized particles with any sailing ship. Space debris does accumulate and then floats directly into one of many red puddles of radiation and then is eaten up, immediately.

His ship stops and as Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student with a worried brow. “Stay calm! I have communicated for a rescue from our home world. The ships will be here shortly. Believe or not! This does happen when a pilot accidentally roams into one of the red puddles. The puddle eats anything in its pathway, including space rocks, space gas vapors, and space ships. Don’t worry! We are all safe and sound. I am afraid that we have ended our travels for the day. But, every student has passed the flying course and will receive a pilot certificate.”

Fu’yar lifts and waves her hands with a smile but doesn’t unweb from the set of safety belts, feeling the wobble of the ship that hovers slightly below the fiery ion waves of the river of time.

De’aul says via the cammic speaker box to each student and the instructor. “Sir, the brown cloud of colored twinkles is coming closer to us. You will encounter it first. Should we prepare to do something? Since, we are still trapped in the river of time.”

Vr’tish says via the cammic speaker box to each student with a smile and a nod, “Very good observation, De’aul, I was concentrating on the stranded ships behind me inside my rear viewer window. This is one of many natural phenomena in outer space. Outer space was born from gas and dust. The gas and dust ignites and then burns into death. This is simply a very large dust cloud which is slowly traveling through Intragalaxy, until it burns out and then it will be nothingness. We will record and watch the unique phenomena. It is unfortunate that some of the ships are stranded but help is coming very soon for rescue. Then, we all will return home with our new adventure of outer space. Therefore, we have gotten lucky to see a dust cloud and one of such magnitude. Everyone enjoy the rich brownness and pretty colors.”

Fu’yar turns and scans the viewer window in the front and both sides as the brown cloud twinkles in the pretty colors. She leans into the viewer window, hearing a tiny sound of something. The brown cloud circles around the spinner ship of Vr’tish first. She doesn’t see the orange tint or the glowing red navigation lights on his saucer ship. She gasps and hears from the cammic speaker box inside her spinner.

Vr’tish screams via the cammic speaker box to each student with a worried brow. “No, no, stop it. The gas vapors are eating my ship. O no, there’s a crack in the wall of my ship. O no, there’s a second crack and third crack. O no, gas is creeping through the crack. I can see death. Students, students ignite your ions for the ones who are not stuck inside the red puddles and then sail back down the river of time, going back home to Fw’tang now. Do it, now!”

Fu’yar reaches and presses the button with a worried brow, hearing the roar sound. The ship doesn’t roar from the silence gathering of positive and negative ions. She turns and scans the viewer window in the front and both the sides, seeing that the brown cloud has surrounded her ship. The ship rocks side to side from the thick air pockets of gas as the dust particles ping the clear cylinder on top of the her ship. She hears a roar sound again as the brown cloud slams into the metal of her ship. Then she hears a hiss.

She unwebs the safety belts from a body and stands from the pilot chair, turning and scans the floor for the hissing sound. She looks up with a worried brow to see the ceiling. There is a series of dripping silver gooey metal that is melting down from the heated radiation of the pink vapors, caressing the top of her ship. Then, she sees the pink gas that drifts from the cracks on the each wall. Every wall has a semi-crooked vertical crack over the silver metal, where a plumb of pink gas leaks into the breathable room of the cockpit of her spinner. She gasps with fear. “O no, I’m going to…”

She reaches and grabs a throat. She doesn’t wear a space suit with a tank of breathable air as she is safely locked inside a saucer ship. The saucer ship has been used for eons for safe outer space travel, coming from Fw’tang to one of the four moons for her family to have fun swimming on Se’tang. Her eyeballs bleed and burst in pain as she yells in dark blindness of the bright overhead lights inside her ship. Her breathing swallows into a series of short gasps as her lungs explode inside her body.

Fu’yar falls down onto her kneecaps, landing sideways on the floor in a puddle of blood that flows from the earlobes, the eyeballs, and the nose holes in death.

 

 

Fw’tang Royal Palace suppertime setting

Early evening

Cold temperatures with bright stars

 

 

Princess Te’ton sits in the middle of her parents at the head of the rectangular table as dictated by the royal custom.

Pl’met sits at the right elbow of the king inside the side table. His mom sits between her son and her husband, eating and enjoying the royal meal.

Le’man sits at the left elbow of the queen at the other side table. His mom sits between her son and her husband, enjoying the meal too.

The king nods with a smile to his daughter. “Te’ton, I love echinos. You did a good job hunting the catch.”

Te’ton turns with a smile and a nod to see Le’man. “Le’man, he captured the five yellow echinos for you, Dad. Pl’met was successful with the orange echinos for you, Mom. They both have earned my respect and vote. I just can’t figure out which male I will choose as my husband. Our next adventure will be into the lush jungles of Oi’tang, tomorrow morning. We shall hunt for little tiny coturns that live underneath the poisonous thorn bushes,” giggling.

The king turns with a sour frown to see the nose crystals of his daughter and then laughs. “You are a vicious little toar, Te’ton. I rule that everyone wears the protection suites while hunting. I do not want any injured or hurt, Te’ton. And I favor the blue coturn meat with the spicy flavor for my taste buddies,” he licks the lips with a nod.

Te’ton turns with a nod and a smile to see her father, “Yes, Dad, I will acquire six of the little coturns for you. Mama likes the brown ones with the tangy flavored meat. I eat the red ones which are sweet like Le’man,” she turns and crinkles her nose crystal at him, since she can’t pat his hand due to sitting between her parents.

The door opens.

A short elderly male enters and stops, standing inside the openness of the u-shaped table in front of the Te’ton. He pants and gasps, looking at the king. “Sire, there has been an accident. The first-time fliers inside a saucer ship are stranded inside the river of time. Vr’tish has communicated for rescue…”

“Immediately, send help, now.” The king lifts and waves a fork with worry.

The male bows at the waist with a nod and back steps from the king. “Yes, Sire!” He turns and exits the royal supper.

Te’ton wipes a mouth on the cloth and stands with a nod and a stern face. “I’m coming to help, too. Le’man and Pl’met, you will please both join me. It’s an honor to rescue our citizens and another honor to assist me. We fly separate saucer ships with the expanded vertical tubes for transporting the students safely into our vessels. And we will don a space suit, protection from the poisonous gases of Intragalaxy for our safety,” she turns with a smile and a wink to see Pl’met. “I still have not decided on my future prince-husband but the highest number of rescued students might sway my permanent decision,” she turns and views her parents with a stern face and a nod. “Daddy and Mama, please excuse us from the suppertime,” she back steps from the chair and slides it under the wooden surface like a good daughter with a smile and turns, leading the males out the room.

Chapter Two

Second born

 

 

Moon Lavan

Year 17 and day 0 and hours 18 and minutes 28

Early evening

Cool temperatures with bright stars

 

 

Aubie is a tall and slender teen girl with a head of waist long red colored hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, and a pair of green eyes. She rests on top of the hard metal bench which is made of pink, red, orange, and blue lava crystals, glittering from the rays of bright light. Her kneecaps hang and sway in the air, not touching the floor. She gazes at the numerous bright stars, beaming between the cold black outer space, seeing nothing.

She feels the wet hot tears pour out, coming down from both eye sockets. The cascading warm tears roll down slowly at first and then faster in a horizontal position, instead of vertical, since she lies on a back spine. Her heavy thoughts weigh and glue her body down over the metal with a series of deep sadness feelings that will never ever go away, until the day that she dies. She whispers for her eardrums only. “I am always second best…”

Her acute peripheral vision sees a single shadow rather than sense a single shadow, moving forward from the archway among the dark inside the observation tower. She does not blink a pair of eyelashes as more tears flow down the neck and then sideways, absorbing into the soft shirt. She breathes with calmness as the single shadow stops and stands in front of her kneecaps, displaying in total handsomeness and awesomeness of six feet plus.

Male is a teenager with a slender height with a pair of mint green pupils, a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of buzz cut red curly hair. He slowly curves the lips, not exposing a smile, “Aubie?”

“Duce?” She softly whimpers with a set of rolling new tears.

He leans down a stoic face and a pair of broad shoulders over her body, assisting Aubie upright on her fanny and then scoots a body upon the bench too. He faces the clear glass wall with her, exposing more beautiful bright heavenly stars in the night sky of Lavan, the home world of Aubie and Duce. Duce stands and slides a pair of hands over her.

They stand and cuddle into each arms.

Duce gently slaps a cheekbone into her wet cheekbone with a whisper. “Don’t cry!”

“I won’t,” she sniffs and sobs with more tears of sadness. “Happy birthday,” she feels numbness inside her heart rather than happiness.

He chuckles. “It was yesterday. I did my family thing, with my family. So, it’s unhappy birthday time to you, now.”

“Good luck, now,” she feels her words with sorrowness.

He cuddles and kisses her cheekbone. “That’s for tomorrow.”

“I…” am speechless. Her sobs create a new set of flowing wet hot tears.

“I, too,” he spins and faces her, kissing her lips, pulling back with a smile.

“I think it’s unfair.” She looks down at the floor with a sad face and a whisper.

Duce reaches and rubs a set of soft hands around both her naked biceps.

Lavan is a gray moon of dusty air.

The original planet was destroyed by an array of flying meteorites, eons ago. The surviving residents flew a set of ancient ships and then crash-landed, destroying all the ships on the top surface of the single moon of non-breathable air. They quickly constructed one single low laying moon dome inside a moon crater, protecting a set of fragile bodies.

Currently, all the citizens live underneath a glass sphere, where the elements of weather patterns, such like, tornadoes, rain, and hurricanes do not exist on Lavan.

However, there are other threats to the set of fragile bodies.

He frowns with a whisper. “I think so, too.”

“I don’t know what to say Duce.”

“I don’t know, either, Aubie.” He feels the same emotions and thoughts, sharing the same thing passion for a fragile life form, too.

Her mobile communication devise sounds on her middle finger with a soft ping. The ring is harvested from the crusty gray-colored soil of the moon that is colored in lava chips that are found between the soil fragments. Her mom likes the blue color. Aubie ignores the flashing blue and focuses on his mint green eyeballs with a sad frown. “Darf, I gotta go.”

He smiles with a nod, feeling the mobile communication devise buzz on a thumb with a sour frown, “Darf, twice, I gotta go, too,” he leans over and kisses her lips, hugging her body with love and protection.

They pull back without smiling at each other.

She exhales with a frown of worry. “I’m always second best…”

Duce leans over and cuddles her into a rib cage, turning and moves toward the archway of the observation room with a worried brow, “I, too.”

They exit the observation room.

She reaches up and wipes a new set of tears from a red swollen face, feeling sadness.

They slowly move together down the inner hallway of the dome, passing the children’s art exhibition from the school. They pass the work station, providing water, food, and equipment, where all adults go to work outside on top of the dusty moon, maintaining the house domes for life-survival. They stroll ahead passing the merry-go-round and the big slide, where they had played as young children.

They pass the water station for drinking fresh water at any time, then clothing store without admiring the new fashion apparel. The common shops for food, water, supplies, and school do not have doors, only archways, if a person is caught stealing anything but water, then he or she is immediately vacuumed out into cold and black outer space.

A human-kind dies within one point two seconds without any type of proper air support, a proper justice trial, without a judge, a jury, and an executor.

Duce swings them toward the solar tram car.

The moon of Lavan does not rotate around a sun or a star. The dayside faces the edge of Intragalaxy, viewing a series of the pretty pink gas vapors and yellow dust clouds. The pink gas vapors and yellow dust clouds float and entwine round and round, creating a brown dust field, almost blinding the dull yellow solar sun within the galaxy and the array of bright white colored lights of the closest stars.

The night-side of moon Lavan does not house any life forms, since the temperature air is too cold, hovering at a negative 4,000 degrees Fahrenheit.

The tram car is labeled “Right” or “Left.” There is no such thing as a geographical direction of north, south, east, or west, because there are two resident crater villages. One goes to the right. The other goes to the left of the central hallway which is dotted with the common shops for food, clothing, and materials.

Aubie lives inside the “Left” village.

Duce occupies the “Right” village. He leans over and kisses her lips, pulling back with a stern face and assists her to load inside the solar tram car that goes straight to her home. He winks with a smile, “I’ll be waiting for you here later.”

Aubie stands inside an empty carriage of the tram car and nods with a sob without smiling or talking.

The door closes. The tram car swishes down the tracks to the Left Village.

 

 

Left Village corridor setting

Year 17 and day 0 and hours 18 and minutes 37

 

 

The doors open.

Aubie exits from the solar tram carriage, turning and moves down the inner hallway, wiping a set of wet tears on the stained shirt, before seeing her parents. The long viewing window is a clear wall on the side, showcasing the moon landscape.

The moon landscape rises, twisting with a set of mini-dust tornados, blowing down from the stellar winds among the bright yellow, white, and orange stars that come from the far away moons, planets, and planetoids within cold and black outer space sky. She has never traveled off of the moon of Lavan and never will. The residents of Lavan only live on top of the dusty moon Lavan.

On a left shoulder, there are numerous gray-colored ceramic squat buildings on top of each other with a set of gray metal double doors, granting entrance into one single residential home. The square archway is painted in various shades of color, reflecting that particular family’s unit. There are numerous colors to choose from, such as, hot pink, hot red, electric blue, dark green, sparking silver, and neon orange, depending on the family design and taste. Surrounding each archway, between the double doors, the moon artists have fashioned an array of three dimensional colored flower bushes, tall brown palm trees, and short grasslets that are made of shiny ceramic colored moon dust which never dies or overgrows into your sewer system.

The archways travel both in the directions of left and right, too.

Aubie turns to the right, moving down the fake walls of beautyness and fragileness, separating each home residence inside the curved dome of Left Village. If she looks straight up into the ceiling of the clear dome, Aubie sees numerous yellow and white stars, planets, and moons.

 

 

House of Aubie

Entrance setting

Year 17 and day 0 and hours 18 and minutes 42

 

 

Aubie halts and stares at the set of double doors of her family unit, rubbing the moon stone on the shirt sleeve. Each residential door is activated by the family moon stone with a specific colored element that is sewn into the fabric of a shirt or a blouse, so a person can wonder around any village but not enter a private home resident, out of curiosity.

Each residential archway is smeared with different colors and then is painted into a pretty design of blue, red, and orange.

Aubie hates the color of red.

The flower bushes are smeared petals of blue, red, and orange. The two tall trees have painted blue leaves. The grass is orange.

She moves closer to the double front doors as it shifts in the opposite direction for entrance. She ignores the low ceiling that is painted with in orange and yellow tinted stars from the raw elements of gray rock of moon Lavan. Since, she has memorized every placement of an orange and yellow dot at the age of three years old. She shifts around the smooth but hard sitting furniture which is made out of moon dust, too. When she stumps a naked toe or two over the hard sitting furniture, her toes feel pain for hours.

She stomps down a narrow hallway, passing the music room, the library room, the living room and then moves up the staircase. Her and her older sister’s bedroom lounges there.

She rubs the moon stone on the sleeve again, activating her private bedroom door.

 

 

Private bedroom of Aubie

 

 

She exhales with a puff of sadness, stopping and standing inside the archway and looks up. Her room holds a twenty foot ceiling within the squared-shaped colored four walls. Her eyeballs are drawn up to the curved dome of the ceiling, viewing the permanent black tinted night sky of bright lights of stars. Her walls are smeared in colors of non-patterns of blue, red, and orange. Her eyeballs cut to the left, staring at the gray chest of clothing drawers with an assortment of pink and orange rosebuds in the format of rounded decorative knobs.

Then she turns and views the school desk of bright orange and yellow colors, holding a gray camtube (computer) monitor for her school homework.

Her eyeballs see the edge of the private bathroom, holding a stand-up shower for bathing, a single toilet for peeing, and a set of double sinks for messing up a lot of toothpaste spittle. Her eyeballs dart backward and stare at the circular bed mattress and frame, where the bed covers are not properly made. She had never properly made the bed as a naughty daughter.

Aubie asked her mom about painting the smears of red, blue and orange into a design of green horses, but her mom said no.

Aubie exhales with a puff of sorrow, turning to see the closet. Empty! She wears a pair of torn and patched blue jeans which are very comfortable around her butthole and a pair of worn brown cowgirl boots which are very comfortable around her toes.

Aubie turns and views the large camtube (television) wall, showing blackness, since she is attending the happy birthday party, now. She exhales with depression and swings around, moving back into the empty hallway, nervously picking at the blue colored moon stone that is sewn into the fabric of her shirt.

 

 

Kitchen setting

Year 17 and day 0 and hours 18 and minutes 47

 

 

Aubie moves down the staircase and turns, strolling and stops a few inches inside the kitchen, seeing the occupants.

The occupants sit at the eating table. Her mom and her dad possess a head of light brown hair with a pair of brown eyes. They are both short in height between five feet and three inches on the plump side of fatness.

The mom of Aubie turns with a fake smile, pointing at the object on top of the eating table as the older sister of Aubie appears inside the archway of the kitchen doorway with a smile. Her mom turns and frowns with fury at her eldest daughter. “You are almost late for Aubie’s birthday party and you are unpresentable, too. This is your sister’s happy birthday party, the only one she gets from us. Go back up into your room and change out of your soiled clothes and into that pretty light blue outfit with the pair of matching earrings and a short throat neckline. The only one, resting on top of your bed and then you return in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, before I set the supper food on the table…”

“She looks fine. This is okay for me. Let’s celebrate my birthday, now,” Aubie moves ahead with a fake smile and stops, sliding into an empty chair along with her elderly sister. Aubie stares at the single cupcake of white icing and sweet bread, holding one single flaming candle and looks up with a stern face to scan the table, seeing sadness and feels angry, instead of sorry-ness. She leans over down into the burning candle and firmly blows.

The candle extinguishes the flame.

The moon of Lavan receives a bombardment of constant heat and light from the set of glowing gases within Intragalaxy. The daylight temperature starts at 265 degrees Fahrenheit and goes beyond heat and brightness based on the mode of the pink gases and yellow clouds of the galaxy. The moon scientists have brilliantly invented zillions of solar cells to capture all the seeing light and crawling heat that are built into each glass dome, siphoning it into a set of mechanic solar engines that heat the gray walls of each residential home. The solar heat and light powers everything from the kitchen blender for a banana and strawberry shake to the camtube (television) wall for an entertainment program or communication message.

The moon dome is made of glass components that are mixed with the surface crust from the gray dust of the moon. The drinking water is evaporated from the oxygen isotopes within the moon’s crust. Everyone on the moon has a job for the survival of the small colony of people.

The dad of Aubie builds the BUDI robots. BUDI stands for Body Uniform Defense Implacement. The BUDI is worn and used by the moon workers, working outside the domes, repairing the ceramic tiles which have been damaged by heat. The glass tiles provide light and heat, protecting the precious life forms inside from the nasty non-breathable atmosphere of moon Lavan.

“Happy birthday, Aubie,” her mom nods with a fake smile, pointing down at the single cupcake.

“Happy birthday, Aubie,” her dad nods with a fake smile without fingering, staring down at the single cupcake.

“Where’s my cupcake, Mama?” her older sister turns and frowns with confusion at the nose profile of her mom.

The mom of Aubie turns with a smile to see her eldest daughter. “Tell your sister, happy birthday! A second born child is very special to her parents like Aubie.”

Aubie exhales with a puff depression staring down at the cupcake. “Thanks, I feel special tonight, too.”

Her dad looks up with a fake smile and a nod to see Aubie. “Here on the moon, it is our permanent home. We are very lucky each and every day of our simple lives.”

Her mom reaches out and scoots a small wrapped box to Aubie with a fake smile, “We got you a present, Aubie, for your special day of your seventeenth year of birth as our second child.”

Aubie reaches out and snatches the present, ripping off the pretty blue wrapping paper, lifting the naked object into a fake smile in silence and shock.

The older sister of Aubie frowns with confusion at the object and her mom, “A body beacon? That is a tiny body beacon. Ugh, you give Aubie a body beacon for her seventeenth birthday.”

Her mom nods with a fake smile to Aubie, “A good devise, it is colored in dark blue, your favorite color.”

Her older sister frowns with puzzlement at the object. “A body beacon measures your vital signs like the heart rate, the pulse rate, and the respiratory breathing. It used when you’re lost outside in outer space, so they can find your body, after you’re dead and gone…”

“Aubie,” Her mom stands with a nod and a fake smile, “You have an appointment at the observation tower, now. Isn’t that correct, Aubie?”

Aubie stands with a whisper and a nod, “Darf, yes ma’am, well, I guess this has…was a great day of my birth as your precious second born.”

Her mom nods with a fake smile to her second born daughter, “Happy birthday, Aubie!”

Her dad sits and nods with a fake smile to his second born daughter, “Happy birthday, Aubie!”

Aubie back steps from the table with a fake smile, without eating one bite of the pretty white cupcake, holding the body beacon in a hand and swings around, moving toward the kitchen archway, and finally the front door.

The front door opens.

She exits her home.

The door closes.

 

 

Right Village corridor setting

Year 17 and day 0 and hours 19 and minutes 09

 

 

Aubie turns from her house and moves down the hallway with a worried brow.

Duce stands in place inside a semi-busy corridor which is away from the front door of her house, greeting with a smile and a hug for his girl as his rear end is attacked from behind.

The female is a tall and slender teenager with a head of long red colored hair, a tone of pale colored skin, and a pair of dark green eyes. Nast back steps from hitting the rear end of Duce with a giggle and a grin. “Sorry about my forward collision to your rear end, Duce. Is it your birthday, too, tonight, Aubie?” She lifts and rattles a small present with a giggle and a grin. “It’s my birthday too with a great big cake, and a set of new clothes, and lots of unwrapped birthday gifts. My dad told me to report to the observation tower for a great big surprise of my new job, since I am technically an adult. I finished all my school exams with a high grade, too,” she bounces up and down with excitement in place with a grin and a giggle

Duce and Aubie spin around with a fake to see Nast.

Nast looks pretty, wearing a round pink skirt that twirls away from a set of long legs, elegantly swaying over the tile. Her pink skirt is paired with a pair of new thigh-high pink boots of two inches of heel, making her taller and sexy. Her white turtleneck fabric is surrounded with a set of pink moon stones, gleaming from the moonlight of Intragalaxy.

Some parents allow their child a set of matching moon stone bracelets and a pair of matching earrings with a single matching ring, serving as a mobile communication devise, also.

Duce cuddles Aubie, moving them ahead toward the solar cram car with a stern face, leading Nast and a couple of other people. “Yeah, we are going to report to the observation tower for our new adult jobs, too.” He stops and stands in front of the tram station with a stern face.

Duce and Aubie passes her. Nast swings around as her skirt floats around the legs, moving behind the back spines of Duce and Aubie with a worried brow. “Goshie, I hope that I’m not picked to mine the top of the moon rocks for oxygen isotopes. The oxygen isotopes are split for oxygen to breathe and water to drink. My dad is mayor of Left Village. I should receive a glamour job as his very important daughter,” she runs ahead and stops, bumping into the naked bicep of Duce with a grin and a giggle, reaching and grabbing his arm with a flirting smile. “Duce, your name means second? I am second born too. How quaint for the both of us, darling?” She turns and winks at his nose profile.

Duce cuddles closer to Aubie with a smile.

The next solar tram car stops. The tram car door opens.

They all enter into the carriage in silence.

The door closes.

 

 

Observation Tower

Year 17 and day 0 and hours 19 and minutes 17

 

 

All the occupants from both solar tram cars exit onto the floor with whispers and smiles and turn, moving toward the observation tower, stopping and stand inside the archway of a semi-crowded room in silence.

Duce and Aubie stand and cuddle together in silence behind a lump of human-kind.

The male is an elderly human-kind with a tone of pale tinted skin on a tall and slender body with a bald head of visual pink tinted scars that are displayed on the forehead, both cheekbones, the chin, and the throat neck. He smiles with a laugh in a loud voice. “I can always tell a second born on the moon of Lavan. All of you possess a head of red hair, a tint of pale colored skin, and tall frame with a set of long arms and legs. Okay, everyone follow me. We are taking a special star ship down to the bottom of the moon, the coldest place on Lavan,” he turns and leads toward a glass entrance door and loads into the beaten up spinner ship of dull silver tint.

Duce and Aubie move forward and enter the same spinner ship, stopping and stand in place, cuddling inside the corner wall of the overcrowded and cold cabin.

Nast moves and scoots closer into Duce, stopping and stands, touching his elbow with a grin and a wink.

The tall male moves ahead and stops in front of the far viewing window, spinning around with a smile and a nod. The spinner ship smoothly launches from the flat docking platform of the observation tower. He yells for all the eardrums. “We are on a specially modified spinner ship. This ship holds one continuous viewing window, going around the top half of the saucer. This is your moment to see the moon of Lavan in full roundness. Everyone look out a portion of the continuous window and shut your mouth. The moon feature has deep craters and patches of dark or light shadows that are reflected by a set of glowing rays of Intragalaxy. You probably read this information from your academic learning but being second borns I know that some of you didn’t, so I will repeat for good measure.

“The roundness and isolation of the moon blocks all vocal communications to and from any type of outer space ship. So, only a direct encounter with a ship will provide vocal communication. Our moon doesn’t generate its own light but absorbs light and heat from Intragalaxy. The residential moon domes capture the drifting heated rays for solar power, working the cram car, for transportation to the kitchen stove oven for food,” he turns and points at the viewing window inside the spinner with a smile and a nod. “You can see the moon out here among the bright white tinted stars, looking a little more sphere-shaped than round-shaped. The dark and light sides divide a line, parting it down in the middle like a piece of fruit, which I ate for dinner. The dark side never sees light. No matter, you always face Intragalaxy,” smiling.

“He keeps repeating that phrase,” Aubie leans and whispers into the eardrum of Duce.

The tall female points with a confused brow to a stationary object within cold and black outer space parameters outside the flying spinner. “Sir, what is that object behind our ship? It looks like a wall of gray matter. Is that a natural phenomenon, too? I have never seen that wall before.”

The male points to the moon with a stern face to each teen. “I will explain the great big ugly wall in a few more moments. We are going to park and land on the South Pole of our moon. The base actually straddles the night side and the day side. No matter, you always face Intragalaxy. The night-side receives no light or heat with a steady temperature of negative 420 degrees Fahrenheit. There is no erosion of the soil within this crater. This is the largest crater on our moon at 220 miles in diameter that was formed by an up swelling of lava more than two billion years ago but currently holding healthy and alive nine Lavanians.” The spinner slows and then docks on top of an elongated and flat level spinner ship platform in front of the tall moon dust created gray colored structure with a single door, a set of four rows of viewing glass tinted windows, and a pair of very tall and wide doors on each side. The structure is four stories tall. He turns back to face each teen with a hand motion and a yell. “Everyone, follow me, now!”

The door opens on the spinner. The gang of teen scoots over to the side of metal walls. The male leads out through the spinner door and shuffles down a long single and empty inner hallway without windows, turning and enters the first open door on the side, strutting around the room toward the front of space.

 

 

South Pole

BUDI training room setting

Hours 22 and minutes 11

Late evening

Cold temperatures with bright stars

 

 

The room is rectangular-shaped with a set of three solid walls of glass, falling from the ceiling down to floor, displaying a solid wall of gray coloring. Aubie cannot see the starry edge of Intragalaxy or the bright shiny stars beyond the window, unless she leans a nose bridge into the glass and then stretches a neck upward toward the black sky, but she can see a bigger object that is hovering in front of the glass.

The male with the bald head turns and stands in front of the wall of glass, slapping a chest with a smile and a nod, “Welcome to the South Pole! I am called Rustler for a specific reason. Anyways, I want you to meet my big ugly bucket of bolts.” He leans over and pats the golden colored metal man beside an elbow.

The group of teens enters the room, scooting around and stands in front of an individual standing podium, wearing a smile of silence for the new Lavan job.

The teen male with a head of short red colored hair, a pair of green eyes, and a tone of pale colored skin on a slender and tall body smiles with a nod, entering the room and stops, pointing a the metal man. “Hey, that’s a BUDI robot. It is used by my dad for gathering rocks of oxygen isotopes, since our world lacks both water and atmosphere. So, we created the BUDI robot for work. I’m Gnott. Oxygen isotopes are located inside the moon rocks, allowing us to extract pure oxygen molecules from the rock. Then we bottle it like milk. We use a seismometer to detect any moonquakes, showing any shifted tectonic activity within the moon’s crust which splits apart the moon rock for easy to extract all the oxygen isotopes. My parents are isotope-gatherers. I wanna be one, too.” He moves and stands in front of an individual standing podium with a smile and a nod of a new adventure on the moon of Lavan.

Rustler nods with a smile, “Pretty close, second born, this is a new BUDI with a set of two bigger hands. I like to call, claws, because the fingers are shaped and made with a set of thickly and prickly sharp thorns for catching stuff, second borns.”

Nast enters the room and stops, stomping a fashion boot, crossing both arms, standing inside the archway with a yell and a sneer for all eardrum, “Goshie, I have a name. My name is Nast. I demand that you call me, Nast, not second born, sir.”

Rustler snorts behind the low podium with a smile, motioning with a hand to all the wandering teens. “Second borns, please select any podium around the room. This is a training room and you are about to be trained up for your new job. The podium holds a camtube table for learning about your new job and doing some really fun stuff,” he laughs as each teen shuffles around and finally stands behind an individual podium, wearing a smile of silence.

“My parents map the size and shape of any traces of new craters for location of new moon domes. A crater holds a lighter shade of materials that has been splashed out of the soil when the crater was formed due to the exposure of the radiation balls of Intragalaxy. The crater wall is the downward sloping portion of the crater which anchors to the bottom end of each dome by a special compound of moon rock and frozen water droplets. The crater floor is a smooth flat space of soil providing a base for building a moon house. The central peak of a crater is the splash effect caused by the kinetic energy of the lava heat and cold space air. My parents are called moon inspectors. I wanna do that too. Can I train up to do that too, sir? My name is Knik,” the teen nods with a smile, displaying a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of green eyeballs, a head of long red hair on a tall and slender body.

Rustler exhales. “The moon is littered with millions of big and small craters, coming from meteorites or meteors for a shorten pronunciation. When a meteor hits the moon then boom,” chuckling. “The biggest recorded creation crater was caused by an impact about 29,000 years ago. The explosion was visible to the naked eyeballs inside the stratosphere and then hit our planet at a speed of 90,000 miles per hour. Our planet tilted first and then slowly caught on fire which was followed with a series of land quakes. Our ancestors flew off and landed on the single moon. Within Intragalaxy, there is a sun which is 875,000 miles going across the equator. Our planet was 8,000 miles going across the equator. Our moon is 1,800 miles going across the equator which is the smallest stationary celestial body within Intragalaxy. The moon crater where Left Village lies is sixty miles wide. Our closet neighbor is the gaseous planetoid called Voloss which is 89,000 miles across. That’s a big planet of lots of human-kinds like us to give you some comparison of life forms…”

Aubie leans over with a whisper and a puzzled brow into the cheekbone of Duce. “How does he know about our moon being the smallest body within Intragalaxy and about a second planet? We never learned about other planets within Intragalaxy with the other students in school.”

Duce looks down with a sour frown at the camtube table, studying the electronic BUDI. “Don’t know.”

Rustler thumbs back over a collar bone with a smile and a nod, “Alright, behind me is a Wall of gray colored rock. You never have seen the Wall unless you are an adult and work outside the domes. A quick history lesson first, the moon is covered in mountains and valleys. The mountains were created from volcanic eruptions. The eruptions blasted up heated dust and then fell over the raised lava hills, way before any of us were birthed. Craters are the most common surface features of our moon, because they come from falling rocks or fiery rocks called meteorites…”

The female teen is tall and slender with a head of red colored hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, and a pair of green eyes. She nods with a smile, standing at the podium. “My name is Minto. The moon’s soil is composed of ancient rock fragments and volcanic glass particles in the pretty colors of pink, green, orange, red, blue, black, and silver. That’s why we have such pretty colors outside around the archway and fake flowers and plants and inside my bedroom which is colored orange. I love the color of orange. When do I go back home tonight, sir? I miss my warm bed,” smiling.

Rustler exhales with a frown of worry. “You are a batch of tall bucks and cute does. Those were some of the roaming land animals from our planet a long time ago. The meteorites that bombard our moon come from Intragalaxy. We live at the edge of Intragalaxy for eons. Intragalaxy sometimes gets too heated and hot and then tosses her fiery rocks into outer space. Since, we are the closest stationary object at the end of the galaxy, the moon gets in the pathway of the meteorites. This Wall behind my back spine, blocking the window view is our defense weapon for the flying meteorites. The meteorites slam into the Wall and then melt like hot butter on a piece of dry toast. When a meteorite slams into the Wall, it is red hot and then cools and turns into dull gray. You are seeing the remnants of 29,000 years of cool flying meteorites which protect our moon from being pulverized into moon dust. So you are here for one purpose to defend the moon against the flying fiery meteorites from Intragalaxy…”

Duce exhales with a frown of nervousness, saying loudly for all the eardrums of each teen. “I am second born within my family unit. I am here to train and learn how to operate a BUDI and defend and save the moon domes from the bombardment of the fiery meteorites. This is a danger, damage, and destruction job as a second born of Lavan…”

“What did he say?” Knik turns with a puzzled brow to the back spine of Duce, rocking side to side at his podium with nervousness.

“You’re totally wrong, Duce.” Minto frowns with annoyance, slamming a fist down into the podium.

“What?” Nast stands with a confused brow at the podium, waving both hands and arms in frustration.

Aubie stares at the gray colored Wall, blocking the window with a whisper for her eardrums only, “I am second born to defend the moon and lives of my family unit. I am second best…”

“Yeah,” Rustler points at Duce with a smile and a nod. “The second born is correct. This job is filled with danger, damage, and destruction. You will learn to ignore all three to survive…”

“What’s he talking about? Goshie, I’m the daughter of the mayor of Left Village,” Nast frowns with frustration at Rustler and the nose profiles of the other teens around her.

“Who told you that lie, sir?” Knik frowns with puzzlement at Rustler.

“What kind of sick humor is this, sir? I demand to go home, right now,” Minto frowns with worry, back stepping from the podium.

Rustler reaches and presses the button as the door locks inside the room. He says with a stern face and a serious tone. “I am sorry here. You are second born here. You are born only to fulfill one purpose of a lot of someone else’s life forms, which is to defend the moon. Now, here is how it is done. From the tip of the North Pole down toward the crater of the South Pole, the moon measures close to 1,800 miles in tallness or length. We have added another one hundred extra miles, expanding outward from the North Pole and at the South Pole which makes the total length of 2,000 miles of tallness of the moon dimensions. Also, at the edges of the invisible West Pole and at the invisible East Pole, since there really does not exist a West or East Pole, we have added an additional one hundred extra miles, expanding the perimeter of the Wall shield. We did this to form an almost perfect square Wall of gray that protects the entire roundness of the moon and the delicate moon domes. At the tip of the North Pole, two BUDIs stand and protect the dusty moon surface. At the South Pole, two BUDIs stand and protect the dusty moon surface.

“Along the invisible East Pole, it measures out to a plain visible edge of 2,000 miles of vertical edge of the Wall which is guarded every 250 miles as we stand protect with eight BUDIs. The same distance and number of BUDIs stand and protect the visible line of the West Pole on the dayside only. We don’t care about the night-side, since no Lavanians live or work there. Each one of you will learn and operate an individual BUDI, hovering and protecting a square edge of the Wall. I promise.

“You are standing in front of a camtube table. The table shows an electronic image of a BUDI like the mini-one beside my elbow. You will be operating a BUDI like the one outside near the edge of the window. A BUDI is a Body Uniform Defense Implacement or body armor that you wear outside in outer space. The BUDI is weird looking. It is designed in the shape of a human-kind like you and me without a skull but it possesses a collar bone, two shoulder blades, a set of back muscles, and a chest of golden metal. The lower body shows a pair of straight lines, coming from the waist down toward a pair of two separate legs and a set of two rounded feet. The rounded feet houses two separate cockpits in case of an emergency.

“I think you know what I mean. The left feet is your first cockpit, where you stand and operate the BUDI, using a set of twin levers to duplicate the ones before your eyeballs on top the low podium, in a few moments. The BUDI has a set of extremely long and functional arms for reaching out and grabbing a flying meteorite which is coupled with a set of two extremely oversized hands. The hands are shaped into eight claws for grabbing the flying meteorite. Think of it like catching a ball as a young child between your hands. You will be duplicating that childish game with the claws and arms of your personal BUDI. When the meteorite comes toward your captured field, you will buzz the BUDI into position and then catch it. You fling it back or down or up into the Wall. The fiery meteorite builds upon the Wall, making it stronger and longer for protecting the moon…”

Duce frowns with confusion at the wall and Rustler. “If the Wall is stronger and longer from eons, then you don’t need us, second borns for all the extra deadly work. Isn’t the Wall strong enough for a massive attack of meteorites?”

Rustler nods with a smile to Duce. “You’re smart, second born. The Wall is indeed stronger and longer only because we continue to build upon it with the gooey flaring heated meteorites. If we allow the Wall to endure a pounding of fiery meteorites, then it will collapse and expose the moon domes. You will operate the BUDI within a 250 miles radius of your neighboring BUDI and outer space. There will be a warning alarm to ear plus your naked eyeballs to see when a meteorite is heading in your way. Don’t worry! The meteorites are almost only 200 feet or so wide across. The BUDI is 300 feet with an arm span of 600 feet which can easily catch a 200 feet ball of fire…”

“Really!” Aubie eye rolls then turns with a sour frown to see the nose profile of Duce. He stares and frowns with worry at the gray Wall.

Rustler says with a stern face and a serious tone to each second born. “I would like for you to do a practice run within the electronic BUDI inside your camtube table for fun. Then I will test and critique your catching and flinging ability within the electronic BUDI before your real assignment…”

Nast shouts with fury and tosses both arms into the air with a sour frown at Rustler. “No, I am the daughter of the mayor of Left Village.”

Knik frowns with confusion at Rustler too. “I’m going to be a moon inspector like my parents.”

Minto sobs with her tears of worry. “I don’t wanna be here. I wanna go home…”

“Can we blast the flying meteorites out of the heavens before it impacts against the Wall or me?” Duce stares at the wall and the outer space beyond with a stern face.

Rustler shakes his baldness with a stern face. “Naw, there is a little thing called gravity. We, they live on the moon without gravity, but the entire moon is a gravity field, pulling an object down into the atmosphere then slamming it onto the moon surface. The pull on the moon brings one single object at a speed of 2,112 miles per hour. The moon is stationary and locked by the gods,” chuckling.

Nast crosses both arms with a sour frown at Rustler. “Goshie, I do not find your amusing joke funny, sir.”

Rustler reached down and grabs a set of the levers with a smile. “Okay, grab each lever by a hand then slam the levers together at the same time. Then the twin claws with catch the meteorite. If you miss the meteorite, well then, I will say my good-bye now,” chuckling. “Jerk the levers apart then the machine will automatically fling the meteorite into the gray Wall with a fiery tail of long red flames. Don’t watch the flinging meteorite burn. You need to watch the viewer window inside your BUDI for the next flying meteorite within your captured field of outer space in front of the Wall. The meteorite showers occur at clocked interludes at nine in the morning and three in the afternoon. The meteorites fling out like an arc high up into the outer space and then pulled down toward the moon’s atmosphere. The bombardment looks really pretty too as it is filled with a series of flaring tail colors of pink, red, yellow, blue, green, orange and gold. The bombardment mostly hit in the middle of the Wall but sometimes one or two stray meteorites bounce to the side and then attack the edge of the Wall. The entire horizon event last for fifteen minutes and a few seconds, since 29,000 years ago. Fifteen minutes is a short period of time in your short lives, too. So, that is your job to catch then fling the meteorite into the Wall, so the Wall absorbs the radiation, gas, heat, vapors, and heated stuff. Then the meteorite shower stops flinging out the flying heated rocks and then it is all done and finished. I don’t know why either, so don’t bother asking me to explain. This has been the ritual of Intragalaxy for 29,000 years, so we follow the same routine. Now, let’s practice your BUDI’s catch and toss. I will walk around the room, watching and marking down your performance and giving you a score. A little hint, the highest scorer of the catches gets the best position that will be posted on the edge of the Wall. This is a fair competition among each other. Ready, set and go!” He turns and slowly moves around the room, observing each teen at the podium with a stern face.

Aubie looks down and watches the camtube table as the tiny alarm pings. She scans the blackness, representing outer space then sees a red rock flying, coming toward her. The claws are open and ready for the catch as both hands sweat on top of the levers while the rock veers toward her captured field. She pants and gasps with anticipation, smashing the claws together, catching the red rock. She jerks the twin levers apart as the rock flies toward the left side and out of the view of the window within the camtube screen. She smiles. The tiny alarm pings for a second time. She watches and waits, sweating on the twin levers and catches the second rock. She jerks open the levers. The pink colored fiery rock is ejected into the Wall, sticking and burning in colors of blue, yellow and finally dull gray.

The alarm pings a third time.

 

 

Hours 22 and minutes 33

 

 

Rustler moves and stops, standing and slaps Aubie on the collar bone, smiling with a nod. “You’re a good BUDI operator number two.”

Aubie exhales without smiling. “Thank you!” She whispers for her eardrums only. “I’m always second best…”

Rustler turns and moves, stopping and stands in front of his podium with a smile and a nod. “Duce is the number catcher within the class. Great job, son!” He reaches and presses a button. The window blackens. “This is a mini-duplication of an outline of the Wall. The South Pole positions hold the numbers seventeen and eighteen. The North Pole position is not numbered, because it is manned by me, the boss. The number one is assigned to the extreme northwest corner of the Wall. The rest of the odd numbers will fall down below the number one position along the western wall edge. The number two post is assigned to the extreme northeastern corner of the Wall. The rest of the even numbers will fall down below the number two along the eastern edge of the wall. I have assigned your numbers based on your scores at your podiums. The only thing between the moon and Intragalaxy is this Wall.

“So, we are the builders of the Wall. This is your purpose in life. You will be placed on the morning shift with the least amount of fiery rocks, heading toward you from Intragalaxy. You can party all night, but you will report to your work station at six in the morning or else. And I promise about the ‘or else’ part, too. I would like to add that I’m many years older than you. I worked the BUDI the day after my birthday of seventeen years old. I survived for many, many years the fiery meteorites, working my way up to this position.

“After this class session, I will retire to the moon dome and one of you will take my place, maybe. This ends my lecture and my lesson. You understand the concept. Back to my growling stomach, you can grab some dinner with me down the hallway and then come back and train or go to your room and party. It’s your choice. This is your training day and your training room, now. Tomorrow, it is your assignment room, so you should train up on your individual BUDI for the real job tomorrow morning,” Rustler back steps with a laugh, moving forward toward the open door, exiting the training room. A group of teens turn and follow him, looking for food, too.

Nast stares down with a confused brow at the camtube table, the BUDI, and then the wall. “I don’t understand. What does all of this have to do with me? I’m the mayor’s daughter of Left Village. My dad promised me a desk job…”

Duce stares down and works the twin lever, watching his BUDI sail back and forth on the screen of camtube table. “We have all been genetically altered, Nast. Did your parents tattle that information to you?”

Nast stares down with a confused brow at camtube screen, tapping it with her manicured fingernails. “No, I’m not genetically altered.”

Duce continues to stare and work the twin levers of the BUDI with perfection with a stern face. “Nast, you’re tall and skinny. I bet your parents are short like mine with a set of short arms and legs. Have you not wondered about your physical beauty and red hair color? Look around at all the other teens inside our class, we all got red hair and pale skin.”

Nast frowns with puzzlement down at the camtube screen. “No, I never wondered about my appearance, since I take after my grandmother.”

Aubie looks up from the camtube screen and turns to see the red colored hair roots of Nast. “We all take after someone’s grandmother. I find it a sheer coincidence that we are all taller, skinner, and paler than our biological parents. All of us possess red hair and pale skin. We could be brothers and sisters, if I were day dreaming during my sleepy time…”

Nast looks up with a sneer to see her friend, “Stop acting silly, Aubie! I don’t understand any of this. I’m not involved within any of this. I’m calling my dad. He’ll straighten this out for me. Sorry, I can’t help either one of you.”

Duce continues to stare down and work the twin levers with a stern face. “I was told my second born role by my first born brother. He wants my bedroom on the upper floor, when I used to live there. Now, he lives there. He was very unkind and uncaring to me, since I can remember. At the age of thirteen, he whispered why I was born with red hair, not black hair. I possessed pale skin, not dark skin and I had green eyes, not brown eyes. Then, I started closely examining all the human-kind inside my school class and home environment and shopping the stores. My older brother was correct. I am taller, slender, red hair, and green eyes. When I talked with other tall and slender red-haired and green-eyed boys and girls, I learned the truth.”

Nast frowns with fury at the back spine of Duce. “What truth?”

Duce exhales with a huff of annoyance and jerks both the levers at the flying meteorites inside the camtube screen with a stern face, “Me and you are born as the second position within the biological family unit. I am second born, not first born. I am to defend the moon base and save my life of family, until the day I finally die and go into heaven…”

“No.” Nast shakes her red curls and sobs with tears. “No, you’re fibbing. This is a training class for my new job for being a desk person at my dad’s office tomorrow…”

Aubie stares down and works the twin levers, catching the next flying meteorite with a stern face and a serious tone. “Then ponder this statement, Nast? We are all conceived in the same month of the same year as a new patch of pongs for destruction. My birthday’s today, like yours. Duce was yesterday, along with Knik’s and some of the other teens located here tonight. There exactly eighteen of us to fill in around the empty edges of the gray colored Wall. How does that compute within your stupid brain cells, now, Nast?”

Nast gasps and views the Wall, the projector table, and then her hands. She lifts and places both hands over a face, sobbing with tears.

 

 

Dressing room setting

Year 17 and day 1 and hours 7 and minutes 01

Early morning

Warm temperatures and bright stars through the windows

 

 

Aubie rose from the bed, after being scared from the loud alarm inside the female compartment that she had shared with the other girls, last night. She was dressed in the same pair of worn jeans and her pair of worn cowgirl boots, gathering outside inside the crowded hallway.

Rustler appeared and led all the boys and girls into a set of two separate dressing rooms further down the hallway.

Aubie entered into the dressing room with the females and changed out of the comfortable jeans and the worn boots into a robe, hiding her nakedness.

Currently, Aubie sits inside a chair as the buzzing scissors shaves a skull. Her long red hair falls down over the robe or into a lap or onto the tile. She does not cry but hears the sobs of the other teen females. She recalled seeing the baldness of Rustler and the scars across a face and a neck from his job as a BUDI catcher.

This is her new life as a second born.

Aubie is to defend the moon or die, trying to defend the moon, where her loving and caring family unit lives and thrives.

The girl taps Aubie on the collar bone in silence.

Aubie rises from the chair and follows the other teen females into the bathroom and then stripes off her robe. She enters the hot running shower, drowning the sorrow of her new life as a second born. She washes off the itchy hair follicles and then dries off her nakedness.

She follows the other female teens into a new dressing room, hearing a series of heavy sobs, seeing a set of tears flow down a set of naked faces. She sees a rack of dark blue one-piece uniforms within varied sizes. She finds the uniform that fits her height and weight, dressing with a pair of matching comfortable tall boots.

Aubie turns and follows the other teen females from the dressing, down the hallway and back into the training room, hearing the loud sobs of worry and fright. She does not cry but exhales with worry.

 

 

BUDI Training room setting

Hours 8 and minutes 22

 

 

Rustler stands at the podium with a stern face and a nod. “I am sorry. The first day is the hardest. Well, I guess the first day was yesterday. The second day is hard, too. Your hair has been shaven off because you need hundred and ten percent complete vision of sight without any set of annoying bangs or ponytails or side burns. Everyone got shaven. And everyone got robbed, too. You have probably found that your jewelry and your personal communication rings are missing. Don’t worry! I didn’t do it. The hired staff members did under orders of me. The hired staff members are former BUDI catchers too, who have survived the bombardment of fiery meteorites…”

Duce stands at the same podium with a laugh and a grin. “Rustler, did someone rob me of my space helmet that matches my space suit? I like the smooth silky feel and dark blue color. Where’s my air pressure helmet with lots of oxygen for breathing in outer space.”

Rustler frowns. “That is a very good question, second born. And I have a lousy answer. There is no helmet over your face or a pair of gloves for your hands. The interior of the cockpit of BUDI is free flowing with lots of oxygen for breathing. The cockpit is also heated to prevent hypothermia from the cold outer space. So, you didn’t need the helmet or gloves.”

Knik raises a palm with a worried brow, “Rustler, what about my communication device for yelling for assistance? Is there another device inside the BUDI for that?”

Rustler shakes his baldness with a stern face. “Naw, no vocal or button communication devise. The BUDI runs automatically for each one of you. Your job is to catch and then claw the flying meteorite and then fling it into the wall, building up the defensive Wall shield.”

Minto wipes the tears from a face with a soft tone. “What about if I get injured and need immediate rescuing from the BUDI thing? How will I communicate my personal injury and pain?”

Rustler nods with a smile. “Your body beacon, you got one as a present from me last night at your home. It has been sewn into your new slick blue uniform. You can’t tell either, but it is there. So, any more questions for me?” Duce raises a palm hand. Rustler turns with a nod to see Duce. “Second born?”

Duce exhales with a frown of frustration. “Sir, I am second born. I am here to defend the moon by continuously building upon the Wall. However, I do know that the man-made wall didn’t exist a long time ago. The Wall is not a natural phenomenon within Intragalaxy. Why was the man-made wall build? Why was the second born child cursed here at the South Pole for defending the other lives inside the moon dome and protecting a dang wall of rock? It wasn’t like this before the explosion of the planet eons ago,” nodding.

Rustler exhales with a nod. “You’re correct, second born. I normally do not include the original story of the second born curse,” he chuckles then frowns. “Eons ago, our home world exploded when some of our ancestors escaped and crash landed on the moon. They quickly built the moon domes inside the moon craters, since the craters are deep within the surface, offering good protection from a set of flying meteorites, the howling stellar winds, and the other celestial storms within Intragalaxy. There were originally three moon domes.

“Times were tough and hard, finding oxygen and food and fighting off the daily heat and the nightly cold plus dealing with the unexpected and violent stellar storms. One night, the bombardment of flying meteorites completely destroyed the third moon dome. Out of honor for the folks, the remaining family units decided to surrogate a second child for the lost third colony. The smart scientists retrieved DNA and then implanted into three-fourths of the family units. Over time, the surrogate children became taller, smarter, prettier, stronger, and faster than the leftover children and teens from the existing two moon domes.

“Another night, there was another bombardment of flying meteorites, damaging the first moon dome bad enough to cause some deaths within the family units, except the surrogate children all survived. The next day, the surrogate children, who had grown into adults, came up with a brilliant solution to construct a Wall in front of the moon. The colony didn’t possess advance star ship capability, only minor stuff like flying off and around the moon for a couple of trips then landing back inside the moon dome.

“So, all the scientists worked together and came up with a plan of building a Wall made from the volcanic ash on the dark side of the moon. Everyone worked constructing portions of the Wall and operated a BUDI doing the outer space work. The BUDI was invented first by one of the surrogate adults. The Wall was constructed then completed before another violent bombardment of flying meteorites from Intragalaxy. During the bombardment of meteorites, a team of scientists that were composed of the smart and pretty surrogate children volunteered to monitor the activity from outer space. Actually, the team safely hovered away in the far distance, staying inside the BUDIs from both the Wall and the moon.

“Of course, the weaken Wall of moon ash collapsed and then the rocks damaged the first moon dome with more serious deaths and numerous causalities, except the surrogate children and adults. During the bombardment, the science team batted flying fiery rocks coming toward them toward the Wall, using a system of two mechanical limbs. After all was damaged and done, the wall portion formed from the free flying meteorites cooled and then plugged the holes within the Wall. So, a science team composed of the surrogate adults was assembled to catch the meteorites and then toss them into the Wall while building it tall and wide to cover the face of the moon.

“During each bombardment of flying meteorites, the surrogate team was very successful. The Wall grew taller, longer, and stronger until there was a bad, bad accident. During the bombardment of the flying meteorites, one of the surrogate science teams get killed by the flying rocks, trying to capture too many meteorites during the violent storm. After all say and done, the science teams flew back down to their home moon dome which had been reconstructed from the remnants of the third dome after their great-great grandparents and then refused to participate in the deadly task of capturing the meteorites. The Wall was build and the moon domes were all safe.

“During the next bombardment of flying meteorites, the Wall took a bad pounding when a few stray meteorites busted through the broken weakened portions of the Wall and then slammed down directly into the second moon dome. Lots of moon folks injured and some killed from that particular fierce and fiery bombardment. The other folks from the two other moon domes demanded that the surrogates return back to the Wall and continue to repair and replace the broken holes within the Wall. The surrogates refused and then the moon folks murdered them.” He hears the sounds of gasps from each teen inside the quiet room.

He nods. “Yeah, the surrogates had built a nice moon dome away from the first and second dome and they were safely living behind the Wall. The South Pole, right here, the surrogates built this complex with their BUDIs. There is plenty of water for air and food for thousands of years. The surrogates were smart. They didn’t need the moon folks. They were happy and alive living out of the way of the flying meteorites. So, the moon folks killed them in cold blood. After all and done, the scientists stole the DNA from the dead adults and then implanted it into each moon folk woman. The first surrogate children were born and birthed seventeen years later on the first day of their birthdays, the first teens were ordered to the South Pole to repair the crumbling wall and then to defend it against the bombardment of flying meteorites. It took one generation of the new batch of surrogates to get the Wall completed constructed, then the surrogates refined the defensive process, helping them live a little bit longer.

“Over the centuries the refinement defensive progress has improved, saving the Wall and saving some of the surrogate lives and all the moon family units. Then the moon family unit produces a baby from the original surrogate DNA. Some of the moon folks have birthed second, third, fourth, and fifth surrogates babies, since a young married couple. They call them, second borns, who come up and defend the Wall at seventeen years old, too. The second borns are taller, smarter, stronger, and prettier than the ugly vile moon folks down there.

“I know what you’re thinking. The moon folks don’t think or invent or wanna leave the moon. They have it nice and cozy. There is no advanced technology of spinner ship traveling around Intragalaxy. It would probably take decades to invent star ship capability before you can fly away from here and beyond the stars. So why not escape? Escape to where? Somewhere in outer space within Intragalaxy, we are far, far away from any other populated planet. How to escape?

“The BUDIs have limited amount of oxygen and are pre-programmed for short-term flights to and from the South Pole. Yeah, you can escape. I ain’t going to stop, but you won’t get too far. Yeah, some teens have tried and failed never to see them again. You will die from suffocation of no air inside the robot or starvation of no water inside the robot or the worse you will face a savage race on a populated planet if the robot gets you that far. This is a vicious galaxy. Folks kill folks for fun. This is the second born curse.” He hears the sobs from the teen females.

Rustler nods with a stern face. “Your job today is to hover inside your assigned post along the edge of the Wall then catch and toss any incoming fiery rocks. The bombardment of fiery meteorites will begin within thirty minutes.” The teens sound with a series of moan. He nods with a stern face. “This is the scary day, but you will survive it. I promise. I did and you will. Please follow me to the docking pad. Each one of your BUDI is ready and operational. No matter, you always face Intragalaxy.” He moves forward and exits the room.

Aubie exhales with a puff of worry, staring at the rear of Wall, feeling nervousness and fear of dying in about thirty minutes.

Duce moves sideways and hugs her, leaning over and kisses her lips, pulling back with a smile, swinging them toward the archway in silence.

They see Nast ahead of them, who stops and rubs a naked skull, sobbing into the handkerchief. Duce whispers into the cheekbone of Aubie with a grin, “I’m so happy to be shaven,” chuckling.

Aubie frowns with depression and a sour frown, watching all the other teens in front of her. “Now, we know why we are born and reared within a mean family unit. I know that my parents didn’t like me as a daughter. I just didn’t know the reason why. I’m a surrogate for dying while saving their lives on the moon. I’m really scared, frightened, nervous, afraid, sad, depressed…”

“Hey,” He leans over and sweet breathes into her lips with a smile. “I got a secret to share with you. You and me are numbers one and two from the BUDI testing, yesterday. We are posted at the northwestern and northeastern corners of the Wall. I talked with Rustler last night during supper. I get hungry, whether death or not cometh,” chuckling. “Anyways, we got lucky, babe.” He turns and drags her down into a new dark and shorter hallway.

 

 

Hours 9 and minutes 09

Hallway pathway of Aubie and Duce to BUDI warehouse

 

 

Aubie exhales with a puff worry, rubbing her baldness with one hand, holding his hand with the other one, staring down with a sad face at the shiny tiles. “No, we’re second borns with a single duty of death and destruction…”

“Naw, baby, we got the ‘bestest’ posts on the Wall. Rustler told me that when a meteorite comes looking for me, just to swing out of the way. Don’t bother catching it!” She halts with a set of parted lips. Duce drags her toward the docking pad, leaning down with a smile and a whisper into her cheekbone. “Don’t act brave now. Act normal, honey. Rustler told me that the arc of the meteorite always hits inside the middle of the Wall or along the middle to lower edges of the Wall. The meteorite rarely hits the top half of the Wall. He stands on the very top of the Wall, always. When a meteorite comes toward him, he bats it away, instead of catching with both claw hands or runs away, without getting harmed. Rustler told me that he scored a perfect mark during his day at seventeen years old and was posted in the northwestern spot for many, many years. He rarely got hit and don’t bother to catch a meteorite when one was coming at him during his teen and young adult and mature adult years. He dodged left or right of the rock saving his buttonhole…”

Aubie halts and turns, staring into the same green colored eyes of Duce. “This is a fib, a lie, or a ruse. He told us yesterday what our duty is on the Wall. I don’t believe him or you.”

Duce leans over and cuddles her, moving to the docking pad with a whisper and a smile into her cheekbone. “Rustler is elderly like my dad, Aubie. I believe him and plan to follow his wise advice. I want you also. Do not catch any one of the flying meteorites, coming toward you, today. If I see you doing that, then I’m going to dart across the Wall and save your life. I love you, Aubie. We can outlive this second born stuff and get married and have a child, but no second children. Please live for me…”

Aubie exhales with a puff of worry and turns with a smile to see his nose profile. “I love you, Duce. I will follow your advice,” she turns back and stares at the other teens. “But, we might live through the day and some of them will not…”

Duce exhales with a huff of worry and stares at the other teens. “I know that. But the test was fair and just. I did my best, catching all ten of the ten electronic rocks, a hundred percent ranking of number one…”

She grins with a nod. “I caught ten out of ten rocks, too. How come your got named the number one spot?”

Duce turns and winks with a smile into her nose profile. “The test was based on the highest catches, in case of a tie it was measured on the fastest catch time for ten rocks. I beat you by two seconds, babe. I’m the ‘bestest,’” he leans over and kisses her lips, pulling back with a smile and a wink.

She exhales with a puff of worry and fakes a smile and a whisper, “I’m always second best…”

Duce stops and stands in front of the tall golden colored BUDI, reaching out and rubs the metal of the machine with a smile and a nod. “It looks like a chopped up gingerbread man to me without a rounded skull and some wimpy shoulder blades. The metal is smooth and shiny. This is a new model. They provide the best to the defenders of the moon. I’m glad my dad is a builder of the BUDI. He did something right. After I survive this stuff, I’m going to find him and then bust his jaw line with my fist,” chuckling.

Aubie is too nervous to smile or laugh but nods with a stern face. “You can do that to my biological dad too, after we survive and get married with happiness. Get inside your BUDI! Rustler is waving his hands at us.” Duce leans over and kisses her, pulling back with a wink and a smile in silence. She turns and smiles at his smile. “I love you, Duce.”

He smiles. “I love you, Aubie. Hustle out of the way of all rocks like me. This will be finished in a fast paced fifteen minutes or so. Stay sharp and out of the way! Gimme another kiss for luck,” she leans over and kisses him, pulling back with a fake smile and a worried heart.

He swing around and dashes to one of standing BUDIs.

Aubie moves ahead across the flat metal entrance ramp, where an open door shows on the left foot of the BUDI. She enters a tiny square shaped room. The automatic door flap closes upright and bolts behind her back spine, locking Aubie inside the BUDI, in case she wants to escape which she really does. She stands in the middle of the room.

Three walls of colored metal golden do not display a piece of moon dust art work or a metal control panel or a viewing window. She realizes that the three metal solid thick walls are more for protection than beauty.

A single wall holds a large viewing window, covering three-fourths of the wall without missing a flying red rock, if present.

She moves and stops, standing in front of the tall gear console. The twin levers are apart, indicating that the twin claws are outstretched in the pose of catching one rock.

The BUDI ignites the engine and lifts up from the pavement without pressing a button or shouting a vocal command.

Aubie realizes that the campad has been programmed to lift off at a certain time and follow a certain flight path probably so the nervous second borns will not accidentally cause an airborne collision or two with a new flying machine.

 

 

Hours 9 and minutes 19

The Wall of South Pole

Cold and black outer space minus 1,000 degrees

Burning series of pink, blue, orange, yellow, green flames within the brown cloud

 

 

The BUDI swiftly soars up from the South Pole as her stomach flip flops with a set of nervous butterflies, making the gray Wall look like a gray blur. The BUDI halts and hovers between the northwestern corner of the Wall and the section of cold and black outer space about fifty miles from the Wall. The Wall is a long line of gray on the left side of her viewer window, blocking the left eyesight. She cannot visually see the bottom of the Wall from inside her BUDI.

She shakes her baldness from those overwhelming scary mental thoughts. Two of the second borns are underneath the huge Wall, guarding it from the upcoming fiery meteorites.

Aubie looks down to see the console with a set of twin levers and a single tiny stick that is below the gear, the maneuvering stick. She shifts the single stick to the right as the BUDI sways right just a tad. Then she shifts the single stick a little more to the right as the edge of the gray Wall disappears from her viewer window, exposing the pretty colors of Intragalaxy. She realizes this is the first time that she has ever seen the true colors of Intragalaxy. From her old bedroom window on the moon, she was looking into the western star sky patterns all this time.

Intragalaxy glows in pink vapors, drifting up into a set of individual streams vertically, horizontally, and sideways, coming out from a gigantic brown cloud. The yellow radiation dust bits appear like a series of fluttering bubbles, rings, and circles that are being ejected from the brown cloud. Intragalaxy looks like a great big outline of a massive single cloud with the pinks, yellows, oranges, blues and greens sparkles that are intertwined through the cloud like a sewing thread of a piece of clothing.

She smiles at the viewing window that showoff the edge of Intragalaxy, “So beautiful…”

Aubie hears nothing inside the cockpit of the BUDI, not wearing a helmet for vocal communication. She turns and scans the metal wall inside the BUDI that does not display a vocal communication device for talking to Duce or Rustler, either. So she is all alone inside the big machine.

She exhales with a puff of worry, reaching down and gently touches the twin levers with a pair of gloves that hold two sweaty hand, feeling worry and anticipation. There is not a clock or counter device of time, either.

She hears a dull boom echo around outer space, seeing blackness. Then she sees a line of redness, dropping a mouth open at the bombardment of flying red rocks, coming toward her BUDI and the Wall.

Intragalaxy has burped, not one or two, but an array of red rocks, swiftly approaching the Wall, trying to attack the moon of Lavan.

She shifts the BUDI to the right for a better view of the wave of red in the far distance that is getting closer. The wave of red decorates the outer space blackness with vivid colors that clash against the floating streams of pink vapors, the twirling rays of yellow dust, the neon blue set of hydrogen molecules, and the drifting plumes of green methane gas that all come from the brown cloud. Then, the wave of red rocks arch beautifully into the blackness, moving from her viewing window.

Aubie shifts the maneuvering stick upward to capture the whole picture within the viewing window as her BUDI lightly flies upward toward the stars and closer to the Wall.

The wave of red rocks descends down prettily, covering the pinks, the yellows, the blues, and the greens of Intragalaxy as she realizes the wave is one fluid motion of gathered flying meteorites that are bunched up together.

The wave of red rock covers half of her screen. She drops open a mouth. “Goshie, they’re coming. They’re really coming toward the Wall,” she back steps from the console, panting and gasping. She pants then gasps, extending both arms in front of her uniform and holds a breath, easing the panic, fear, and excitement. She exhales then inhales then exhales with calmness. She moves back and stands in front of the gear console, placing both hands over the twin levers as the wave of red rocks covers three-fourths of her viewing window in bright flaming red.

Aubie sees the vertical plummet of red fires, coming from all the rocks at this close range on the viewer window and then hears a loud hiss as each rock descends rapidly down into the Wall’s gravity pull.

Three individual colorful flying rocks hisses and then bang with a loud noise into the Wall. The Wall does not shake or wavier from the violent impact, either. A plumb of white steam slowly rises from the direct assault into the gray Wall among the cold blackness of outer space.

A set of five individual rocks hiss and then bang with a soft sound, hitting the Wall and the claws of each BUDI. These rocks hit the lower edges of the Wall and underneath the Wall, where numbers seventeen and eighteen are patrolling the outer space.

Aubie watches the viewer window as the wave of red rocks covers the window glass and her eyesight. Her naked hands sweat inside the gloves and on top of the twin levers, watching the rocks and listening for the alarm signal. Her face sweats from panic and fear too as the water falls behind each earlobe and a neck.

The wave of rocks pounds the Wall and the partial edges of the middle down to the lower Wall and then underneath the Wall.

Aubie can’t see the performance of her fellow second borns and doesn’t really care at the moment. The moment is surviving the falling red rocks for living another five minutes today.

The alarm sounds indicating a line of rocks, coming directly toward her.

Aubie sees a set of three rocks that fly in a semi-crooked line, pondering how to catch all three or only one then pants and gasps. She pants and gasps as the alarm dings and dings for the incoming objects. Aubie exhales then inhales then exhales with calmness, shifting the stick upward as her BUDI flies up toward the heavens, if that exists.

The three rocks fall and tumble directly into her spot on the Wall. One hits the outer edge of the Wall, where half of rock sticks and burns in pretty red and blue colors into the Wall. The other two hit emptiness and then falls down into oblivion of open space until it fizzles out of flame and fire.

She pants then gasps then pants then gasps with fear then excitement, but Aubie is alive and has survived the first wave of the red rock bombardment. She giggles. “Yeah, back at you, Intragalaxy, so not today, maybe tomorrow, if you’re lucky, babe.” The wave of red rocks disappears from the viewer window of the BUDI. She jumps up and down and claps with happiness. “It’s over. It’s over…”

The BUDI automatically ignites a set of foot thrusts, sailing back down, flying by a set of feet pads, not the headless shoulders as she giggles from the weird flying sensation.

 

 

Hours 9 and minutes 38

Docking bay storage warehouse

BUDI of Aubie setting

 

 

The BUDI automatically flies and lands inside the same docking pad spot. The entrance door slides up into the slot, revealing the tile of the floor. The flat ramp slowly drops down over the flat surface to exit.

Aubie claps with a giggle, bouncing out of the door with excitement of being alive, stopping and stands over the smooth pavement, turning and studies her BUDI. The metal is tinted in red flaring heat and black scorched marks from the flying rocks pieces of the flinging meteorites from directly impact with the Wall or from the claws of the other teens. “I survived,” she whispers with a smile and a soft clap of happiness, studying her BUDI.

Duce comes from behind her back spine and swings her around with a smile and a chuckle, cuddling Aubie. “We survived,” he leans over and kisses her lips, pulling back with a smile and a nod. She smiles and hugs him in silence. He sweet whispers into her face, not wanting the other teens to overhear. “We made it out from our first bombardment. I had six rocks fly toward me, but I shuffled the tiny maneuver gear to the far left then got out of the way. You did, too?” She nods with a smile in silence. Duce grins, “See, Rustler was right. We got the best posts among the class,” he turns and scans the docking pad.

She turns and scans the docking pad and her BUDI. “My BUDI landed in the same spot that it flew from. So, that means each BUDI is programmed for each one of us, but I see some empty spots,” frowning with sadness.

Duce cuddles her, swinging them toward the archway with a stern face. “Let’s get food. I’m starving from the meteorite battle. Yeah, some BUDIs are missing. I overheard some of the teens saying that they’re injured and bloody going to the medical bay. And some teens are missing and death when the rocks smashed into their claws.”

Aubie nods with a sad face. “The first three wave of rocks hit toward the lower edges and underneath the Wall.”

Duce nods with a sad face. “These were the worse positions from the scored tests that get posted down there, consisting of numbers unlucky thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen.”

“Yeah, who was number seventeen and eighteen?”

“Nast and Minto, they’re BUDIs didn’t come back…”

“No,” Aubie halted in place, dropping open a mouth. “Then, who gets to guard underneath the Wall, replacing numbers seventeen and eighteen?”

Duce moves forward and drags her into walking with a stern face. “Rustler told some of us, who ate with him last night, that there is a batch of new second borns coming today this evening like we did. They’ll fill up the empty positions, since our class has seniority by one day. This is how it works. This is how you survive. This is how your beat the second born curse. We’re off to good start. Rustler told me that you and me will have these posts until…”

“But,” Aubie frowns with worry. “If I’m challenged by another BUDI test…”

“Naw, no more tests, you got one test, one chance, one moment. You get what you got. That’s it! I’m the ‘bestest.’”

She hopes that she has good luck this afternoon at three for the second bombardment of red rocks along with her love Duce, whispering for her ears only. “I’m always second best…”

Chapter Three

Tarn

 

 

Planet Mercian

Yellow sun and blue sky

Week 43 and day 1 and hours 8 and minutes 16

Dihe Outpost 2 within EDU Center 4 setting

Cool temperatures with partly white clouds of yellow sunshine

 

 

He sees a rectangular-shaped room.

The four walls, the ceiling, and the floor are made of transparent glass, so the beasts, the creatures, and the critters can dookie in green color and pee in pink color over the smooth surface, making the children giggle, laugh, and learn about the wildlife on planet Mercian.

He views the yellow sun rays, the blue sky, the white clouds, the green tree limbs, the orange leaves, and the flying brown fleshy fowl, and the shiny silver ships within the blue sky. He sees the tree leaves blow from an invisible light breeze and the tree animals chase each other’s tails around the dark bark. The tree animals drop down to the red soil, running around with fun.

Then he turns and views the crawling critters that smear their green slime onto the glass walls, looking down and blinks his eyelids to stare at the droid. The droid is a tall, round shaped, slender piece of silver metal like his…yeah.

All the droids are shaped the same from a productive maid to an instructive teacher as a piece of tall smooth metal with a set of arms, legs, hands, feet, limbs, or appendages like him. The piece of metal flashes its commands in an array of numerous colored hues for a series of various functions all over the slender metal of the machine. And it has the ability to toss a single colored light at an object and make float the object from point A to point B. Or the single blink of color replies to a vocal question or performs a single task, such like, flower gardening, spinner piloting, or quasar scanning within Intragalaxy from the front porch.

The room is an academic learning atmosphere for children to learn about everything. The children float from the glass floor and hold in the air currents within a horizontal pose, sitting inside an individual cozy couch, wearing a warm blanket of protection and love from their mom. Each set of eyeballs are glued up and onto the glass ceiling, where a mental thought will project the answer to the posed question from the droid-teacher.

He closes his eyelids, seeing darkness and hears.

The droid-teacher drones in a dull monotone to all eardrums of each student, “Welcome to EDU Center Four on Dihe Outpost Two. Today is day one of week forty-three. You will be tested on your knowledge of week forty-two workflow from the available visual campad and vocal discussion lecture. Question one, how many years has it been since the first documentation of human-kind existence within Intragalaxy?”

He opens his eyelids with a grin to see a set of various shapes and colored designs on top of the glass ceiling.

Each child has mind-written using the Touch the correct answer: 32,000 years ago.

It appears upon the glass ceiling. The mind of each child has scribbled the numbers in a favored color hue and a kiddie-type personal writing style. Only a metaphysical being could mind-write on glass, coming from the possession of an extraordinary talent, the Touch.

The Touch is an invisible force, coming from within the being and then exiting out of the same being, sometimes with a vicious punch like your…yeah. Each Dihe life form possesses a distinct degree of the Touch. The long list includes, such like, Touch minding, Touch projecting, Touch clarity, Touch moving, Touch healing, Touch speed, Touch dashing, Touch flying, Touch lifting, and all really fast.

“Second Prime Tarn,” the droid-teacher turns and drones to the student in the rear of the classroom without emotions or metal limbs movements.

He exhales with a puff of annoyance, shifting down a right thigh, a kneecap, a leg, and a foot toward the floor, stretching out a set of aching muscles, coming off a hard and flat tree stump. His student chair is an actually a half chopped down tree flat uneven trunk, where the rough tree stump holds his…yeah. Then he shuffles a left thigh, a kneecap, a leg, and a foot, stretching out the crunched muscles down to the boot toes, slamming the floor with a loud thud and shifted both eyelids to the machine with a sour frown, “Present.”

“Where is your colorful answer, second Prime Tarn?” The droid-teacher drones to Tarn as the dumblings rattle inside an individual hover couch side to side with movement of curiosity. Each dumblings swings around and stares at Tarn for one point two seconds and then returns, facing the glass ceiling for the next test question, giggling in various musical pitches.

Dumblings are children, not old enough to shave anywhere on a biological body. The term dumblings was created by Tarn’s best bud first Prime Nimtarts, when Nimtarts had attended the very same ECU center on a different day earlier in the year, too.

Tarn exhales with a huff of annoyance and leans back into the hard back rest of the roughly roped individual tree branches, comprising the rest of the upright uncomfortable student chair. He closes his eyelids and mind-write with his Touch the answer 32,000 years ago as it appears on the glass in the color of red. Red represents his fighting fury.

Tarn is a male human-kind, who is seventeen years old. He is tall with a set of shoulder length blonde hair, a jaw line of blonde facial hair, a pair of blue eyes, and a tone of peach tinted skin. He is ranked as a second Prime within the Dihe tribe.

The Dihe talent ladder starts with High Master Dihe and his partner High Mistress Dihe. They are equal like his…yeah. The next level going down to the bottom step is first Prime, second Prime, and then a Primeling.

The current ECU room is crowded with six and seven year old Primelings, coming from the various species-kind and human-kind within Intragalaxy. A life form is spoken and written and thought as a species-kind or a human-kind or a droid or a dead thing.

Tarn turns and stares at each humans-kind and species-kind within the ECU room with a smile.

On the first row, one floating couch holds the tiny yellow colored Apifo, a bee-like species. The body is four inches high and round. The body displays a pair of two brown colored stick-like arms and legs with a tone of yellow smooth skin and a pair of slanted brown eye sockets. The Apifo are birthed inside a colony to one single pair of male and female parents, holding between eleven to twenty baby bees. The couch sits six bees side by side with ejon talents as a pair of naked finger claws and toe claws glow in whiteness.

However, within any loving and caring family unit on planet Mercian, there could be one or more Touchers, but not every individual possesses the ejon glow of whiteness.

The ECU center is a special school for the Toucher, learning about life and their ejon talents.

Also, on the first row, a second floating couch holds the tiny red colored Aviion, a bird-like species. Each species-kind is eight inches tall, an oval shaped skull head of curly dark red hair, a pointy black tinted bleak nose and mouth, a pair small black beady eyes and a pair of flush ear holes on the sides of the oval skull. However, the ancient story about the bees and the birds does not exist here within Intragalaxy.

Within the second row, there are four sofas of Singa, a monkey-like species, who grow tall at seven feet, without a tail, but with a set of six fingernails and six toe nails that glow in whiteness of ejon. However, the ancient story about the monkeys and the trees does not exist here either.

Also, on the second row, one couch holds ten Rogentila, a rat-like species with a tone of purple skin and a set of pink welts of poison that is used from being eaten by an enemy. Also, on the second row, two sofas hold nine Feliux, a cat-like species with a tone of ebony skin plus colored markings, a long tail, and a pair of tiny ebony pointy ears. However, the ancient story of the rat and cat does not exist here also.

The last row holds an individual hover sofa of three Theria, six Canini, and two Pacderdom.

Theria are the zebra-like species with a different colored mane and tail, contrasting greatly from the four colorful hoofs. They have four set of crooked kneecaps.

The Canini are wolf-like species with a set of tall board shoulders, a mouth of sharp fangs, a body of brown short course fur, and a set of four long skinny legs. They can crush and kill any predator or an annoying Primeling inside any heated dog fight, five seconds flat.

The Pacderdom are the elephant-like species with a body of curly white hair, nine feet high in height with a pair of red tusks. The three elephant-like species hovers inside an individual sofa between the wolves-like species and the zebra-like species. Since, everyone knows that wolves love to devour the meat of any species, including their fellow classmates.

In the far wall corner, there is a solo sofa, sitting with a single occupant of the Pieuvr. He is an octopus-like species who is ten feet tall with a set of eight arms of silver and blue colors. The primeling giggles, wetting with a series of spurting water inside his sofa, the wall, and the floor.

Tarn smile and sits in the rear of the room against the cool window, where he is bored out of his mind and is frightened of his mom. He has been assigned as a “watcher” for the morning, the late morning, the meal-time, the afternoon, the late afternoon, and the next morning for the next twelve sun days, moon nights, and more days and night, if he does not follow the vocal instructions of the more boring mechanic droid-teacher.

Tarn was captured by the Dihe Outpost Three authorities, performing an infamous “cium pasa” maneuver. His infamous maneuver was displayed over the cammics (telephones), the camtubes (televisions), and the campads (laptops), cam beaming throughout the outpost. His personal maneuver recorded and repeated from his beginning roll to the final wave at his known vile foe Cherwell. She deserved it plus more.

Cammic means telephone.

Camtube means television.

Campad means laptop.

Cium pasa means “kiss-up.” It translates for any general ignorant doofur (beast) into giving an invisible kiss that is directed with a finger or a hand (finger is preferred) not at a victim’s hand, wrist, neck, cheek, or lips but at the…yeah.

The real teen translation of cium pasa is the “kiss of death” for any carefree teenling who has been drafted into permanent watcher duty, until his mom relents or his death whichever comes around first for her only precious loving child.

The mom of Tarn, Maries had selected this particular punishment while watching the action re-play on the camtube at Dihe Outpost Three and enacted it upon her only good-looking, brilliant, kinda mischievous but curious with a degree of meek, non-dangerous offspring.

And then, the dad of Tarn, Womack approved with a head nod in silence like always. Womack never speaks, when his mom Maries was lecturing, informing, educating, channeling, or any other verbal or non-verbal communication skills, working all the fingers, both hands, one foot, one leg, the mouth, and numerous other body parts, all at the same time.

Yeah, she is a high maintenance pretty intense complicated female, but she is his mom.

Tarn loves his mom.

Maries had tenderly reminded this morning that Tarn would greatly benefit and enjoy the repeated educational reviews and academic lectures of the Primeling teachings at ECU Center Four.

Tarn lives on the pretty planet Mercian, one of many thriving worlds within Intragalaxy. Mercian is the closest planet to the only bright yellow glowing sun with lush green and brown forests and rich colored crops of food, including vicious yellow and blue thunderstorms, heated dry winters and cool and wet summers.

The droid-teacher drones within the classroom. “Name the color and source of heated energy that feeds the plants, flowers, beasts, species-kind, and human-kind for survival?”

Tarn mind-writes: yellow sun.

The droid-teacher drones. “Name one color of a dwarf star?”

He opened both eyelids with a grin.

Each child mind-writes with the Touch the answer in the corresponding correct color blue, green, white, or red.

He closes his eyelids, feeling the twirls and swirls of the air waves around a body as it tickles his cheekbones. He whirls a set of invisible air waves toward the glass and mind-write the word: blue. Then Tarn captures the spectrum of the light, filling the white letters of the word blue into a rich black color.

This is how ejon works, surrounding the life form and pulls together the air winds and sometimes the tree leaves, forming a visual image of an object or a word or a physical fist punch.

The droid-teacher drones within the classroom to each student. “You have learned that there are six days within the calendar week. There are fifty-six weeks within a year. The fifty-six weeks is also referenced as 336 days in one year, within Intragalaxy. Intragalaxy holds planets, stars, gas, dust, mammals, species-kind, and human-kind. We have also learned from the science team that there are other galaxies besides Intragalaxy. Please, draw one of the newest discovered galaxies, within the universe?”

He opens both eyelids with a puzzled brow, staring at the glass ceiling. He does not know the answer to that particular question. He didn’t know that the science team had found a new galaxy within cold and black darkness of outer space. So Tarn will ask his smart best bud Nimtarts.

Best bud means best male friend.

He tilted a skull into the cool glass window to see the ceiling. Each child draws a fugly ugly object over the glass. Tarn can’t figure out the lousy design.

The droid-teacher drones without a smile and with an emotion of cold metal machine, “Excellent Primelings, I can visualize the outline of a necklace, an ice cream cone, and a hair brush…”

He quickly duplicates a red colored hair brush outline, before trouble chases his…yeah.

The droid teacher drones without a smile and with an emotion of cold metal machine, “Name the definition inside the galaxy? I like living, breathing, working, and lounging with human-kind, species-kind, creatures, beasts, plants, planets, stars, and jumping my star ship going from point A to point B?”

He snorts and mind-writes with his Touch in the color of red: intra.

“What is the celestial heavenly body, where hundreds of planets and stars rotate, revolve, and revive round and round the sun?”

He leans into the tree branches, hearing the cracks of the ropes, mind-writing with his Touch in the color red: Intragalaxy.

“What is outside the Intragalaxy?” The droid teacher drones without a smile and with an emotion cold metal machine.

He opened both eyelids and looks down with a chuckle and a smile to see the rear skulls of each student. The dumblings are wiggling inside a hover chair without an answer. He looks up with a grin to see the glass ceiling and mind-write in a set of big orange letters, covering almost the glass ceiling: dust.

The dumblings giggle and laugh.

His mom is right. The learning EDU session is warping his brain cells back into past homework assignments that were in-completed due to not completing them as a lazy Primeling. He grins with the dumblings and then frowns with annoyance.

He wiggles side to side over the hard stump, turning a frown into the shifted sunlight over the glass ceiling, watching the bird pee in pink color onto the glass. He exhales with a huff of frustration as a bored watcher while all his buds and blossoms have finished their academic imprisonment duty for the afternoon.

Bud means a male buddy.

Blossom means a girl buddy.

Now, all his buds and blossoms are having some good-time fun at the local tavern. His teenlings friends are sucking down a set of delicious eatings, consisting of fisser (sodas), chokers (hot dogs), lumpies (fries), and finally crunchers (cookies).

A fisser is a combination of carbonized water and sugar, where each colorful flavor tastes best really, really cold. Tarn likes all the flavors.

Chokers are twelve inches of bread that is filled with a beast, a plant, or an artificial food parts. Tarn likes the artificial food parts the ‘bestest,’ except his mom complains that no one really knows exactly what part of beast it is, where it comes from, and why it exists.

Lumpies are the deep fried varied colored vegetables in animal fat, drowning in either sweet or tart sauce. Tarn likes the sweet sauce with his girl Foxi. She is a first Prime, his best blossom. They are a Touch-pair for a future mating, within a couple of years.

Best blossom means a devoted girlfriend.

Crunchers are assorted dark or white hard sweet breads that are filled with an assortment of nuts, coco, candy, or anything else sweet that you desire.

Moro, another second Prime puts a set of fruit bits inside his crunchers, imitating his rat-thing cousins when they visit from their home of Dihe Outpost Three.

Yachats, a second Prime likes a set of real and dead trawler (worms) bits on her crunchers. Her species biologically make-up is descended from a flock of bird-like things.

Doughies are soft sweet breads that are eaten yummy raw or baked with sweet brown sugar and brown flour mixed with chocolate or bits of candy. His dad Womack and Tarn like the chocolate pieces inside their doughies bestest too.

A fisser, a choker, a lumpie, and finally a cruncher, the Intragalaxy meal feeds all the growing teenlings within Intragalaxy and maybe some hungry beasts.

Tarn exhales with a huff of frustration.

He was a doofur, acting on sheer stupid impulse at his classmate wolf-like Cherwell. She had graciously descended her snorting verbal challenge for an upcoming physical dog fight with human-like Tarn at the ECU center for teenlings.

Tarn should have pivoted and pranced his…yeah away from the verbal challenge like a good son. His dad Womack has tried, tries, and will continue to try with a set of boring on-going constant up-to-the-minute lectures of good teen behavior, repeated hourly, secondly, millisecondly, and what after comes, after millisecondly, which is somethingly.

His Touch tells him so. Tarn feels imminent danger. His muscles tense with streaming hot sizzling blood as the blood rushes into his brain and then down his spine, shivering with the attack. He sits upright with a worried brow, staring with shock at the dumblings.

Each dumbling giggles and stares back at Tarn.

“Doofur,” the droid teacher drones and stares at Tarn.

He gasps in fury at the annoying droid, “What?”

“I am answering the posed question, second Prime Tarn,” the droid-teacher drones with colored lights and a soft sound. “What is the bird-like beast that became extinct in the year 28,996 from over consumption for food, clothing, tools, entertainment, and other humanoids bad habits? The beast was measured eight feet tall at adulthood and was covered in thick fur which was presented in varied color hues over a plump body that was used for food. All parts were edible, including the feet, the toes, and the bones.

“The beast was mute with no sound. Its body was held upright by a set of three stick legs for walking. The beast could not run or gallop. The beast held a set of four appendages for wings but could not fly. The beast was blind, except during rainstorms, where its visual sight between the sheets of heavy downpours existed. The beast ate by digging down into a colony of buried trawlers all sun and moon times, where the trawler dinner meal made it grow big and ugly. Historically, the beast was prey for the species-kind Dratux. The twenty foot plus tall dragon-like creatures have disappeared along with its food source the doofurs around the year 29,001. The Dratux were an old and honored species-kind, living within Intragalaxy. Human-kind and species-kind alike feel terrible about the final demise of the Dratux.

“There are no more a dragon-like species left to re-tell and re-vive the old tales of Dratux. We only have a small limited number of camtubes which are priceless for any historian or a scientist or a student within Intragalaxy.” The metal on the droid-teacher turns into the rich black color. The Primelings giggle at the sight and float down back to the glass flooring.

The children wiggle a set of eerie glowing naked fingernails and toenails of white on different shaped appendages, signifying the funny story and possessing the Touch mark. The Touch allows speaking, without moving the lips, lifting without the hands, and flying without wings.

Tarn sits within the silence and then rolls his eyeballs beautifully.

A set of soft whistles vibrate which end of the day of learning at EDU Center Four.

“Dack, I’m done.” Tarn Touch leaps from the hard tree stump and Touch lands onto an empty spot, scattering the short dumblings from his big feet with a smile and a nod.

Chapter Four

Mercian

 

 

Hours 14 and minutes 16

Early afternoon

Dihe Outpost One meeting room setting

Hot temperatures with rain storms

 

 

A group of life forms have gathered around a teardrop shaped table for an impromptu meeting. The light colored wooden table had been constructed from native trees on planet Mercian. The shape represents a single free flowing teardrop from a face, showing a tear of happiness or sadness.

The group of life forms comprises some of the highest ranking members within the Dihe tribe who live on a set of different planets but meet and discuss a set of galactic issues at the headquarters outpost on planet Mercian. The tribe moves into the room, standing upright on two or more appendages or flies with a pair of fluttering wings or crawls with a set of four or more appendages. The Dihe tribe continuously studies, trains, and practices the Dihe traditional way of life within Intragalaxy all day and night.

Mercian is home to a world of zillions, including species-kind, human-kind, beasts, and creatures. The planet is cut in half by way of a vertical formation, coming north down to south by 134,521,000 miles of a single greenish-black river. The fresh water is the prime source of drinking water. It feeds the low fertile valley of food crops and the beast livestock that is used clothing and transportation on Mercian.

The planet offers the warmth, the rains, and the sunlight which is all closest to the river water. As the native transverses from the center of the planet, the cooler temperatures calm the hot summers and then feed snowfalls, coming down from the rough winters, fertilizing the farms and river. The skyline changes from a pretty bright blue into a dark angry red.

The native can feel the dry heat and see the tall orange sandy mountain ranges, taunting both family members and friendly fun social activities.

Within the Dihe meeting room, the teardrop table is a secret symbol of the Dihe tribe with a smooth curved shape, instead of a straight line. The curve represents flow, fluid, and forever continuous union of ejon and eternal, mate and mind, love and life.

Within the Dihe tribe, a mated pair works together as a husband and a wife who is also assigned as a Dihe Master and a Dihe Mistress, so a pair of Dihe roams and runs around Intragalaxy, providing good deeds for fun and free. Additionally, a dad, a mom, and all the children with or without the ejon talent live as a single unit within a Dihe outpost as a loving and caring family unit.

Currently, some of the gathered Dihe around the teardrop table inside Dihe Outpost One turns and views Cullom, who stands inside the door archway.

Cullom is a monkey-like, a Singa-species with a set of long arms, a broad chest, a pair of two legs without a tail, a pair of green eyes, a set of flush ear holes on each side of an round skull. He is tall at seven feet with a set of six fingers on each hand and a set of six toes on each foot of dark blue short hair. He moves upright during casual moments but runs humped over in a rush, making his species-kind faster than any teenling species-kind or human-kind adult.

Cullom enters the room and stops, sliding into an empty chair with a stern face to see each Dihe. “We all have an urgent issue to resolve requested by first Governor Yamhill.” His instincts are homed with ejon energy plus all native natural senses when climbing up and over tree branches, mountain ranges, outside iron gates, and attending boring Dihe meeting, when not enduring his daily Dihe exercises at any Dihe outpost. He feeds on tree leaves, plant nuts, grass seeds, and tree fruit. His un-mated wife is Idanha.

Dihe Master Cullom and Dihe Mistress Idanha are biological parents to Imnaha, a first Prime daughter and Ucon, a second Prime son. The couple is divorced living on Mercian.

The Singa-species are highly intelligent and hold exceptional problem-solving abilities along with excellent reflexes for weapons handling, using all twenty four fingers and toes combined. Cullom’s best talent is twirling his bato, the weapon of the Toucher, over all his fingers and toes, making the youngest Primelings giggle and laugh during the entertainment hours at the REC center within the outpost.

Maries is a human-kind female who is a tall with a head of blonde hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of blue eyes. She is the elderly and plump High Mistress Dihe. She is married to High Dihe Master Womack, birthing one child Tarn, a second Prime. She reached down and presses the soft leather vest with a set of manicured fingernails, sitting upright and alert inside the chair with a stern face of business to the nose profile of Cullom. “What precisely did first Governor Yamhill say, Cullom?” She always exhibits her proper business and reserve manner within the Dihe tribe meeting, studying Cullom.

“Nothing,” sniggers Furno. He is a cat-like, a Feliux-species with a fur of ebony skin plus yellow, red, and orange markings. The long black hair is slicked back behind a pair of two tiny ebony pointy ears, a pair of slanted yellow eyes, a set of flat nostril holes, and a pair of small orange lips that is filled with a mouth of sharp fangs. He is married to Dihe Mistress Ginnita with a set of six kittens within the family litter.

Voxi and Foxi are first Primes and daughters of Dihe Master Furno and Dihe Mistress Ginnita. The rest of their litter mates are normal members of the Feliux-species, not possessing any trace of ejon, the energy of swirling matter visually on naked fingernails and toenails.

Ginnita turns and frowns with annoyance, slapping the bicep of her husband. Furno sniggers at Maries, again.

“Only Maries would question our leader,” Knell nods with a sour frown. She is a member of the rat-like, the Rogentila-species. She possesses a tone of rough purple skin with a set of pretty round pink welts, containing deadly poison for defense. She lives on the ice cold snowy blue single land mass of Gesclide, one of the farthest planets from the single solar sun.

The rat-like species is four feet high with a plump round body of a pair of short arms, a set of three fat fingers on each hand, a set of three fatter toes on pair of two naked feet that glow whiteness in ejon nails. They possess a round head, a pair of big white eyes, a pair of pink lined rounded ears, a pink nose, and a round mouth without teeth, only a set of red gums that can spit long distances for protection too.

Knell turns and smirks at her mate Dihe Master Putack. She birthed Moro, a second Prime, Primeling Onaway, and nine other rat-like babies that lack any type of ejon abilities. However, Dihe Mistress Knell and her mated Dihe Master Putack are always unfriendly to Maries.

Maries turns and frowns at Knell. “The word ‘Dihe’ means the defenders of the poor and the weak…”

“We aren’t political pawns,” Thane turns and frowns at each face. She is a member of the zebra-like, the Theria-species. Each species-kind possesses a set of crooked kneecaps, a long horse face, a pair of flush side ear holes and a set of green and beige vertical stripes of short hair over a body. The skull mane and rear tail are beige colored. She stands and moves upright until she is frightened into galloping on a set of four green hoofs. Thane is a single mom to Ezatala and Ceffee, a pair of second Prime daughters. Her husband is un-mated to Thane, since he isn’t born with ejon talents, but they all live together in a set of separate houses on planet Harrogate.

Harrogate is famous for the endangered, untamed, and forbidden beautiful swanettes, flying creatures of the pink sky.

Maries returns the nod to Thane in silence with a stern face.

Blossoms and buddies do not exist within the Dihe tribe, but the poster Dihe pair would be Thane and Maries.

Thane enjoys tattling and prattling about her two daughters with the hopeful wish that one of her pretty girls might marry Tarn, some day.

“Yeah so,” Furno snarls with a nod to Thane as his wife cat-like Ginnita slaps his bicep again. Furno does not associate briefly at any public social occasions with Senators Orofin and Farara from his home world of Mercian. The senators are sleaze cats with a set of four dirty mitts. He wouldn’t let them pet his hostile mu-mu chicks that like to attack the pretty flower beds on the front porch. The senator pair would turn them into a set of evil mu-mu chicks that might attack the naked toe bones of Furno at night while swaying back and forth inside the swing on the front porch. He chuckles, again.

Maries turns and nods with a smile to each face. “We all have earned our titles, not inherited, not elected within a supernatural committee meeting. So we come together, after saving the galaxy, the planets, and the populous from danger, destruction, disaster, and the other D-words, thus we select at our meeting the next item…”

“Are you telling us, pawns what to do now, Thane?” Teeger turns with a mouth drool and a smile to see Thane. He is a member of the lion-like, the Leoaeus-species. He has a full shaggy tan mane, a set of board nasal passages, a pair of slanted black eyelids, and a lower jaw that contains a mouth of sharp fangs. His skin is tan colored with a set of spotted white rosettes on the arms and the legs with a solid tan tail. The males are known for continual fighting with other rival males greatly reducing the longevity and life span of each species.

Therefore, only one male is allowed to live within each Dihe outpost.

Currently, Teeger is the only male living on planet Mercian for some very personal and private reasons which Womack supports. Teeger enjoys adding salt or sugar, depending on Thane’s sweet or tart verbal remark within the Dihe meeting forum for his terror and tickles, since the Leoaeus species-kind only eat meat and are particularly fond of zebra-like organs, not stinky plants, or sweet fruits.

Thane turns and raises an eyebrow and a tail, not amused with Dihe Mister Teeger.

“Right, not politic,” says Dihe Mistress Siryon. She is a member of the bee-like Apifo-species. Each species-kind is four inches short, a tone of yellow tinted skin, a pair of almond shaped brown eyes, a set of brown fluttering set of four wings, a set of brown stick thin arms and legs with four fingernails and toenails that glow with white ejon. Her mate is dead, so she raises her first Prime daughters Taradash and Onaway within her first colony of bees along with eleven more other little non-ejon bees from her second colony on planet Purpat.

Porrett frowns, “Polite!?” Her mate is Dihe Master Berwick. They raise first Prime female Cherwell and second Prime male siblings Gironfu and Thrash and Primeling Malta.

Porrett is a member of the wolf-like Canini-species. Each species-kind has a body of brown short course fur with a set of four long skinny legs. They are slender and powerfully built species with a deep ribcage, a sloping spine that protects all the organs along with a muscled neck. The arms are long and ripped with muscles on a pair of small hands with four fingers and toes of ejon nails. The Canini-species is very strong and can crush and kill any predator or any annoying Primeling in any heated dog fight within seconds. The head possess a wide forehead, a pair of two bright scary reddish-brown eyes and a pair of strong jaws with a set of sharp fangs, a short pink nose muzzle for breathing and running at speeds of sixty miles per hour while chasing down their prey or playing with their prey. The ears are small and triangular. They are extremely and highly territorial species, establishing long lines of friendship and loyalty within the Dihe tribes, consisting of human-kind, other species-kind, and all types of beast-like and creature-like beings. The young are known as din-din cubs. Do not insult their wolf-babies. You will be dead quickly.

They experience bouts of rage and fury when ticked off and engage in actions of direct vindication and bloody revenge for their buds and blossoms, unofficially rumored. They bark, howl, and drool sometimes all at the same time.

“Politic means crafty, cunning-like,” chuckles Oxbow. He is a member of the elephant-like Pacderdom-species. He possesses a large body of curly white hair and endures extreme heat, cold, and other natural and un-natural environmental elements that float around Intragalaxy.

Oxbow is nine feet and one inch tall, weighing in at 830 pounds of insulated fat, blood, flesh, minerals, and muscles, mostly fat. The species possesses a pair of floppy small white ears that are lined in baby blue, a pair of big round amber eyes and a pair of two long red teeth that are called tusks. The tusks protrude down from the lower lips of the trunk for eating, breathing and diving into water, without standard mechanical equipment.

The elephant-like are social and smart species which is led by the female of the clan. They are very musical with instruments and enjoy drawing, painting, and making small silly items from mud and dirt, where the art works hang on the walls or stand on top of the floors. They eat tree bark, tree leaves, and ground beetles on top of well-done slider meat. They are great warriors of fighting with natural endurance and strength.

Oxbow is a single dad to first Prime son Gamnon and first Prime daughter Meeteese. His wife had passed away to the afterlife, after the birth of their last calf.

(Note: when a crazy Pacderdom exhibits a rocking action inside a confined small space during a capture he or she becomes very dangerous and deadly. Move away!)

“Cunning-like Yamhill, the squeakily little ferret,” Furno chuckles with a grin. Ginnita reached over and slams his bicep, again.

“Squeakily is not a word, furball,” Oxbow turns and chuckles at the nose profile of his bud Furno.

Furno turns and frowns with a nod at his bud Oxbow, “Yeah so, a Dihe word, right, Maries?”

“Just like the Dihe word, furball,” laughs Oxbow with the others.

Maries fumes at the silly mind game between Furno and Oxbow. She forgives Oxbow for his asinine remarks, since the Pacderdom species-kind is famous for many fits of destruction, if they are not allowed to channel their explosive intellect into a productive or playful use. Womack allows Oxbow the opportunity to blow off his invisible steam during any business meeting or social gathering, participating with his intended victim of his verbal funny horseplay Furno.

Maries waits and watches, tapping a boot toe underneath the teardrop shaped table, mentally counting forward to hundred with a set of musically beats within a make-believe song, swirling inside her head.

“How do you spell squeakily, Furno?” Oxbow laughs with the others.

“S.q.u…” Furno smiles with a nod. Ginnita reached over and slaps his bicep again.

“We are politesse, meaning that we are politeness.” Oxbow nods with a smile to each face.

“Cleanliness,” Siryon smiles at the fun. After an exhausting night of healing burns, changing diapers, and midnight feedings of her bee-babies, her daughters are the best helpers to her especially during the evening and late night baby patrol. They sacrifice willingly their fun-time with their blossoms to attend to all their family duties.

“Polished,” Zcio smiles, another bee-like species-kind. He turns and nods to Siryon. She graciously nods back at him. Siryon bats her eyelashes seductively. They are not dating, yet. Zcio has expressed body language interestingly, but not the verbal connection positively. He politely respects her big responsibility, raising a colony of tiny bees by herself while performing her Dihe duties also.

“Yeah, bud, like me.” Furno slaps a chest with a laugh and a smile to Oxbow.

“Smooth and cultured,” Berwick jabs a finger with a chuckle at Furno for fun time inside the boring Dihe meeting.

“Refined,” Porrett enjoys the silly antic at the infamous teardrop table with a smile and a nod to see Maries. The neck veins on Maries pucker from anxiety, stress, and tension of the fun chat around the teardrop table.

“Flawless,” Furno nods with a smile.

“Go on, Furno,” Cullom laughs with a grin.

Maries frowns. “What precisely did first Governor Yamhill say, Cullom?”

Jahally is a bird-like member of the Aviion-species. He is eight inches short with a head of curly dark red colored hair, a pointy black bleak nose and mouth, a pair of small black beady eyes, a set of flush ear holes on an oval skull. He is un-mated and a Dihe Master, frowning with confusion. “How did you come about speaking with Yamhill, Cullom?”

“Eating lunch with Senator Torbay,” Oxbow smiles and tosses around the important name at his buds. Oxbow was hungry and Torbay offered and paid all the meals that day.

“High ranking,” Thane drops open a mouth to turn and stare at Oxbow.

The elephant-like is an obese, pale skinned, pinky cheeks, red lipped thing that reminds Thane of a fat painted jo-jo doll.

Oxbow favors both his son and daughter greatly. The only difference in the species-kind compared to the other normal species-kind is the growing state of fatness which is directly proportioned to the height from young to adult. They are favored with great minds, beautiful artwork, and lovely musical accomplishments, but her daughters will not ever marry a Pacderdom.

Thane scans and scouts the table for a set of potential mates for her twins within the coming year of their eighteenth birthdays. The eighteenth year emphasizes adulthood and marriage rights.

Ezatala has her heart and both hands picked on Tarn, the son of high and mighty Maries, who is the female leader of the entire Dihe tribe within Intragalaxy.

And Maries approves, of course.

The tall human-kind male is very handsome and well-mannered, if you ignore some of his asinine verbal languages and physical gestures. Tarn is a kid at heart, not a man, yet. The unborn children of Ezatala and Tarn would be greatly blessed with a set of glowing finger and toe nails ejon of the Touch.

Thane has the special gift of Touch-clarity, the ejon ability to see and predict the future, such like, social events, work activities, and love marriages within Intragalaxy. Something is coming quickly that will impact the daily lives of all species everywhere in Intragalaxy. She feels it growing and expanding within her guts then turns, smirking at snobby Maries.

Her other twin daughter Ceffee is another bridal candidate to wed a single Tarn, if he rejects her twin sister Ezatala. However, Ceffee has her eyelash on teenling Nimtarts.

Nimtarts is tall, handsome, smart, and talented human-kind. He is about to awarded Dihe Master at the age of seventeen years ago, so the buzz around the teardrop falls. He is Tarn’s best bud. The best bud pair study, play, and work together, making their paring absolutely naturally when coupled with a pair of twin females of the same species-kind for a perfect single day of two weddings.

Thane smiles and hears around the teardrop table.

“Nice ranking,” Zeelee turns and winks to Oxbow with a friendly smile. She is a human-like, who is short, athletic, a head of golden hair, a pair of golden eyes, and a tone of matching golden skin. She is a Dihe Mistress who is married to Dihe Master Koosbay. They have an adorable four year old golden hair and skin child who is named Kooce. They live on planet Koorskis.

All the inhabitants of Koorskis are colored gold, possessing gold skin. The hair possesses light touches of red or bronze or yellow. The ears, the hands, the feet, and all the other exterior body parts are golden tinted too. Hence, they are referenced as the golden crayons.

The exo-planetoid is solid white colored, including the plants, the wildlife, and the trees. The yellow dwarf star heats the whiteness on top of the planet and then burns the outer epidermis of the natives into a golden suntan that bonds the skin and hair with set of yellowish metallic dust particles that is absorbed into the body.

The best export of exo-planetoid Koorskis is the golden beans or Atum beans. Atum is a Koorskis word for ‘gold.’ The beans are brewed into a golden colored beer with a hardy robust flavor. A crop of golden beans are very expensive to purchase which are utilized within food stuffs, such like, soups, sauces, meats, and breads.

Ironically, exo-planetoid Koorskis contains the mostest wealthy and abused species-kind within Intragalaxy. Their skin is soft and thick which has been captured and used for centuries by star pirates, such like, jewelry pieces, wall and floor decorations, food, healing medicines, and monetary shives.

Thus, the golden skin is a very rare commodity within Intragalaxy.

“My mate’s brother on her mother’s side,” Oxbow smiles with a nod to each face.

Maries frowns at the nose profile of Cullom. “What precisely did first Governor Yamhill say, Cullom?”

Collum clears a throat then frowns with confusion. “The Noti are dead.”

“Impossible, this is impossible. That is impossible.” Zcio frowns with puzzlement. The bee-like species-kind is extremely intelligent, using a brain for scientific experimentation and exploration of any life form body structure. He feels both stunned and hurt with the sad news.

He had lived and survived the Apifo virus that had killed ninety percent of his native species-kind.

Zcio suffered through the symptoms of fever, chills, cough, blindness, deafness, making him immune, if the virus cycled back again. However, he still cannot accept the complete destruction of any entire other race without angry, shocked, and hurt.

Maries frowns with annoyance. “That’s a statement, not a request.”

“An observant poignant medical fact, Maries,” Knell turns and nods to her mate. Her rat-like natives are supreme and superior within Intragalaxy, not necessarily wealthy, but that is about to change.

Cullom says. “First Governor Yamhill seeks a request to us for investigate the matter while representing the Establishment. He would like us to…”

“The Dihe,” Maries frowns. “The Dihe are not political puppets or pawns for the current office of the Establishment.” She has mentioned this particular important proclamation to first Governor Yamhill several times in several private meetings. The Dihe tribe is simply not available to perform any work orders or favors for the central democratic body which rules the zillions of cities on thousands of planets in the hundreds of different star systems within Intragalaxy. The next encounter, Maries will reiterate the full meaning of her sentence structure. If Maries doesn’t emphasize the difference between the Dihe and the Establishment, Yamhill will be ordering the tribe to perform flavored or favored individual tasks within the populace next.

The species-kind and the human-kind of the Dihe tribe have been fashioned as some type of supernatural mystery saviors of something. Maries believes it is the peace, freedom, and security of daily lives of every life form within Intragalaxy, but no one ever utters those exact words honestly. The respect and admiration are showered on Maries personally as leader of the Dihe like her parents when they had ruled over the Dihe and the evil predators within Intragalaxy.

“Maries is always correct as usual.” Thane smiles with a nod to her friend.

“What are we then, Maries?” Teeger frowns with puzzlement.

“We are Dihe no more, no less.” Maries exhales with a puff of annoyance and smoothes down the vest with a set of manicured hands, a visually nervous habit.

“Guardians of something,” Berwick chuckles with a nod.

“No.” Maries says with a serious frown.

“Protectors of someone?” Oxbow smiles with a nod.

“No.” Maries says with a more serious frown.

Furno grins, “What’s left if not the guardians or the protectors or the mommies and daddies of…”

“The gate keepers of Intragalaxy,” Maries nods with a smile.

Furno yawns with an annoying sound. Ginnita reaches over and slaps his chest without pain. He smirks with a chuckle. “We keep the gate open from what, whom again, Maries? Please someone clarify this for me before I fall asleep from the…”

“We ensure the gate is closed from the Vilo.” Maries frowns with a nod.

“Our number one enemy,” Thane lifts and shows one hoof with a nod to Furno.

“O yeah, I forgot the real dead enemy of Dihe. Since when did they rose from the grave again, Maries?” Furno laughs with some of the others.

“How many delicious Vilo roasted noob bits have strolled into our gate in the last one thousand years, Maries?” Berwick chuckles with jealousy of Oxbow’s infamous terror and tickles approach. The vile Vilo clan have been rumored to exist somewhere within Intragalaxy. As of yet, Berwick has never met one alive or dead, fiction or fact, big or little…

“Nada, zero, zappo,” Furno makes the number zero with his fingers. Ginnita reaches over and slaps his bicep again. He chuckles with a nod, “So, we must do a rather bang-up job galactic speaking of course, keeping the Vilo from hanging onto the gate,” chuckling.

Maries continues to tap a boot toe underneath the teardrop table, wearing a sour frown.

Zeelee frowns with puzzlement. “First Governor Yamhill possesses a grand droid-inspection division for such matters of the Establishment priority.”

“The Noti are our kin,” Teeger nods.

“The Noti possess ejon our talent, our shared trait with no other species-kind and human-kind.” Zcio nods with a stern brow to each face.

Porrett nods. “I agree with Zcio. The Noti deserve our attention and compassion within this non-Dihe matter which happens to fall underneath the realm of the Establishment. I can understand the request from Yamhill.”

“The Noti are a protected race.” Knell turns and nods to her mate.

“And a protected species within the Establishment,” Maries nods.

“So, they thought.” Furno frowns.

“I thought Koosbay wasn’t present.” Oxbow grins.

“How many Noti are missing?” Thane nods with a sour frown.

“You missed my very important vocabulary word, dead, all of them.” Cullom frowns.

“Impossible, this is impossible. That is impossible. We shall see and investigate the false matter.” Zcio nods with a worried brow.

Maries sits tense inside the curve of the teardrop table which is the locator seat for leader of the Dihe, who leads and makes short-term and long-term decisions, affecting all the Dihe tribe within Intragalaxy. “This teardrop table has operated on democracy rule over 29,000 years. I will not veto that historical judgment. Who objects to first Governor Yamhill’s request to investigate the Noti? Excellent, we proceed directly toward the Notian Karst, fulfilling our mission and Yamhill’s request, now,” she stands with a nod and a stern face.

“Can I go and find Koosbay, now, Ginnita darling?” Furno sits inside the chair, looking up with a smile to see his mate, who stands and drools over his furry skull. She vividly distorts her pretty face. He frowns and stands. “Okay, you talked me into it, blossom. I’ll lead us there…”

“No,” Maries swings toward the archway with a stern face. “I lead. Everyone, follow me.”

“How about we take a couple of Primelings for an educational jaunt to the Notian Karst for special assignment?” Teeger stands and stretches.

“Not this trip, Dihe Master Teeger,” Maries exits the room.

“Hit the breeze,” Furno dashes and pulls up, slapping his friend Oxbow in the stomach, since he is too short to slap the shoulder of nine foot tall Oxbow with a laugh, moving beside Ginnita and behind the rest of the Dihe gang.

Oxbow grins. “Furno means to use the Dihe term, access the pacers.”

The Dihe tribe exits the outpost.

Chapter Five

Notian Karst

 

 

Hours 15 and minutes 11

Twin mountain setting

Early afternoon

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

 

 

A single semi-crooked line of pacers (air ships) parks and floated by mechanics inside the air currents, facing a set of twin rock covered mountains that are surrounded with a series of shallow greenish-black swamps and puddles of clear rain water from a fresh rain storm.

He flies inside a pacer, going around the top of the far mountain peak and lands in an empty air spot inside the middle within the row of pacers, floating in the air currents too, staring with a confused brow at the wet landscape. “Ugh, someone couldn’t find a more suitable parking spot. What’s the urgent situation besides getting my boot toes wet?” Womack is a tall human-kind with a head of short cropped black colored hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, clean shaven, a pair of green eyes on a slender body frame. The High Dihe Master shifts and stands on the top of the seat of the rover, turning side to side with a grin and a chuckle to see each Dihe face. “Where’s Koosbay?” He searches for his jolly high-spirited outspoken second-in-command of the Dihe tribe, a bestowed earning, not honor.

“Busy,” cat-like Furno Touch jumps over the flowing water stream, onto the seat of the pacer, and over the other side of the water stream with a chuckle and smile. The water stream runs underneath his pacer for fun too.

His wife cat-like Ginnita stares with a sour frown at the twin mountains, not being able to hit the bicep of her husband with frustration. She stands on the top of the seat of the pacer, avoiding the running water like the rest of other Dihe members too.

Human-like Womack turns and stares at the twin mountains with a smile. “Koos always seems to be busy when I need him mustest and mostest,” he turns and winks at the nose profile of Maries. “Might need to test him for Touch clarity, what do you think, Maries?” He is the male leader of the Dihe clan, possessing the highest degree of the Touch. He and his wife are equal in rank, status, and ejon, of course, the perfect pair.

“Maybe,” human-like High Dihe Mistress and wife of Womack, Maries studies the mountain with a sour frown.

“Koos took a team of Primes down to the Braid.” Bee-like Zcio lifts and flies with a set of wings above the water and studies the twin mountain peak with a puzzled brow.

“Busy,” cat-like Furno continues to Touch jump without hitting the flowing water and lands on top of seat with a chuckle and a grin for more amusement.

Rat-like Knell exhales with a puff of annoyance and stands upright on top of the double-seated pacer with her mate. “I am so excited to be here, Maries. I just love adventuring into an enclosed mountain that reaches the stratosphere of outer space which is surrounded in a pool of greenish-black colored water that is swimming with a team of roaming sliders. Sliders do possess fangs to suck out my blood, too. And the cavern mouth has sunk down into the landscape as the two ponds of water flow inside for more wetness…”

“Yeah, blossom,” bee-like Zcio flies in the air and stares at the twin mountain peaks with a smile. “It’s currently springtime, Dihe Mistress Knell. The wintertime frozen snow caps have melted down, dropping heavy streams of fresh clean drinking water down into the valley bottom. The karst is a natural forming sinkhole during the summer and the winter months. A karst is a deep vertical hole about 300 feet wide and 200 feet deep which is surrounded by natural hard thick deposits of hardened volcanic ash. The internal walls of the twin mountain are composed of un-welded pretty brightly white colored ash tuffs. I promise.”

Human-like Womack nods with a new order at the mountain. “Everyone Touch leap into the air like a tiger and then soar through the air currents like a bird, flying into the open mouth of the cavern and then land on boots, feet, or claws anywhere inside the cave floor. Don’t get wet, either!” He bends both kneecaps with a smile and Touch jumps into the air, flying forward with a horizontal body, stretching out both arms even with the wet landscape. He looks down with a smile to see the overflowing twin water streams that cover most of the short grass, the thick bushes, the plants, and the flowers.

The twin streams dump down into the mouth of the cavern, reviving the musky greenish-black colored pool water around the mountain sides.

Womack flies into the darkness of the cavern, leading the Dihe and then slowly descends down toward the cave floor, standing fully upright in the air and jerks both kneecaps into a chest, preparing for hard landing on the dry floor. He slowly floats down onto the hard rock, scattering bits of black dust around the boot toes with a confused brow and squats down onto the reddish colored rock, reaching out and touches the black dust, soft.

With her Touch jump, rat-like Knell follows the other Dihe tribe members from her pacer, through the air currents, into the cave, and lands on top of the hard rock, standing in place and parks both hands on a fat wrist. She turns and scans the black dust and the red rock with a sour frown and a matching tone. “I thought you said that the ash bits were white from a non-active volcano, Dihe Master Zcio.”

With his Touch leap, bee-like Zcio follows the other Dihe tribe members from his pacer, through the air currents, into the cave, and soars over the hard floor, studying with a puzzled brow the red rock and black dust. “I am most assured. The cavern floor consists of zillions and zillions of individual proyroclastic debris particles of an inactive 29,000 year old ancient volcano. The weak and crumbly volcanic deposits come together allowing the cohesion to stand and created a set of vertical slots which is for an assortment of hollow shelter holes and an array of hollow long subterranean tunnels for body or machine transportation between an existing and surviving species-kind or human-kind colony within the Notian Karst. Heat rises, coming from the below the lava fields that are underneath the cave floor and then percolates and then cools which recycles the red ash into a white cohesion that forms the entire interior of both mountains.”

Human-like Womack stands upright and studies the interior mountain walls with a gasp. “The interior walls have been roughly cut with tiers of semi-rounded levels. I count six levels which are about one hundred and fifty feet apart that tower up toward the peak top of the mountain. I see…”

“….hundreds upon hundreds of still dead bodies of Noti,” Maries squats on boot toes, looking down with a confused brow to see the black dust and reaches out, touching the first body on the red rock in front of her boots.

Each Dihe clan member follows Womack through the air currents, into the cave, and lands on a dry stop, standing in place and surveys the interior of the mountain walls with a puzzled brow.

Elephant-like Oxbow looks down with a confused brow at each dead body of black dust. “Noti are Noti. No humans or species have ever understood their original of biology or purpose of travel to planet unknown. They have existed for over 29,000 years peacefully on planet Mercian,” he looks up with a nod to see the walls of the mountain. “This is their old homestead. The humanoids are…were bi-pedal, short height, rounded belly, lacking hair on a skull, a face, a chest, both arms, both legs, and both feet. They were dressed in an outfit of worn brightly patched simple long ankle tunic-like fabrics that have always made and donated by the Dihe tribes throughout Intragalaxy…”

“Interesting,” Bee-like Siryon flies through the air without a pair of wings with her Touch, soaring above the red rock, the black dust, and the dead bodies, coming up behind the back spine of Oxbow with a stern face. “What are you reading, Oxbow?”

“The campad, he cheats,” cat-like Furno turns and smiles at the trunk and tusk profile of Oxbow, moving ahead and Touch walks in the air over another dead body of black dust with a puzzled brow, scanning the walls and the floor of the mountain.

Elephant-like Oxbow stands in place and reads out loud from the campad for all eardrums. “The eye sockets of each Noti member emitted a set of bright lights of yellow ejon, instead of eyeballs and colored pupils. They possessed flush and smooth ear holes on the both side of a hairless skull, a pair of nose holes that are flat against the face for breathing and mouth hole for eating. Noti were all deaf, dumb, and blind but possessed ejon, strangely enough. The Establishment scientists believed that the ejon trait performed a right angle turn with the Noti human-kind. Ejon is a completed circle of 360 degrees that surrounds a biological, a chemical, or a metallic matter. A shape that is surrounded by only 180 degrees does not possess white ejon. Therefore, ninety degrees of ejon represents the relationship between the two intersecting lines of ejon and the life form, creating a weird life form without awesome Touch talents, who survive day-by-day on a tiny amount of ejon energy. The ejon made the Noti harmless to others and powerless to supreme entities. That completes the search inside the campad by the scientists on Mercian and beyond.” He continues to tap on the campad for more information with a stern face.

Wife of Dihe Master Koosbay, human-like Dihe Mistress Zeelee stands in place and turns, scanning with a puzzled brow the mountain walls, the cliff tiers, the red rock, the black dust, and the dead bodies. “Why are the Noti dead? Did their ejon run out of life force?”

Rat-like Knell stands in place beside her husband Putack. She looks back over a collar bone to see Zeelee with a laugh and a grin. “Ejon never runs out, Zeelee. You’re a mistress of the Touch, please.” She swings around and leans into the pink nose of her husband, whispering a set of unkind words about Zeelee and the other Dihe. He nods in silence with a snigger.

Cat-like Furno moves ahead and Touch walks in the air over each dead body and black pile of dust, narrowing his eyelids with Touch, seeing in the far, far distance. “I think I see…”

“Stow it, furball.” Oxbow moves ahead and Touch walks in the air over each dead body and pile of black dust, narrowing his eyelids with the Touch, seeing in the far, far distance also.

Her mate Porrate, wolf-like Berwick advances ahead and Touch walks in the air over each dead body and pile of black dust toward the cliff face in the middle of the cave floor with a puzzled brow. “I’m going to…”

“I will.” Maries continues to squat down in front of the dead body with a puzzled brow and Touch leaps from the floor and into the air with a stern face, soaring and rolling into a tight somersault and stretches out into a horizontal pose, flying over each colorful skulls of the Dihe with a stern face and a shout. “I’ll lead us…”

“…to where, the afterlife of the dead? All look dead to me. Let’s go back to the outpost and eat some lunch,” cat-like Furno continues to Touch walk in the air over each dead body and the pile of black dust, narrowing his eyelids with the Touch, seeing in the closer distance.

“All look dead and burnt to me. I thought you said that the plastered inactive volcanic ash sticks to the cavern walls, Zcio.” Wolf-like Porrett moves ahead and Touch walks in the air over each dead body and each pile of black dust with a puzzled brow.

Human-like High Dihe Mistress Maries lands on top of the hard floor with a stern face and a new order, walking over the floor, advancing first to the cliff face without a set of dead bodies or piles of black dust. “We need a complete census of the dead and burnt bodies, so everyone scout out and count up. We will compare the tallies later then provide the missing information to Yamhill.”

Cat-like Furno continues to slowly Touch walk in the air over the body and the dust, lifting and cups all fingers over a set of pursed lips and yells at the far cliff face. “Hey, you alive in here! Stand up and then shout and then sing for me a favorite old country tune, okey dokey?” He drops both hands and slams the legs with a chuckle and a grin.

Elephant-like Oxbow continues to Touch walk in the air over the body and the dust pile with a chuckle and a grin, “Shut up, furball.”

Cat-like Furno exhales with a huff of puzzlement and continues to Touch walk in the air over the dead body and the pile of black dust. “I’m counting the minority numbers. You know the ones that are alive, because the majority number is dead. You know lots and lots of dead. I see it there and here and there and here…” he stumbles forward for fun within the Touch walk in the air with a snigger. “Just tripped, watch your step!” He laughs with some of the other Dihe.

Human-like High Dihe Mistress Maries stops and squats down with a puzzled brow to see the single pile of black dust. Dihe Mistress cat-like Ginnita is a few feet behind her. Maries orders with a stern face, pointing to the dead body at her boot toes. “Ginnita, you possess the Touch pathos that allows you to feel the past suffering of any human-kind, species-kind, beast-kind, or creature-kind within Intragalaxy. Tell us what has happened here inside the Notian Karst? Can you Touch skim one of the piles of black dust for a preliminary probable cause, please?”

Cat-like Ginnita exhales with a puff of annoyance and performs a Touch down from the air and onto the floor, sliding down on both kneecaps, placing her bato on the floor and reaches out, placing both furry mitts down into a single pile of black dust, closing her eyelashes with a stern face and a soft tone. “Skimming the wave length…”

“Of the dust bannies, how did the ejon make them so?” Cat-like Furno stops in the air currents and holds a Touch hover over one of the numerous piles of rich black dust, watching the dust disintegrate to nothingness, not wanting to touch or count it.

Elephant-like Oxbow halts in the air with a Touch hold and looks down with a puzzled brow to study a pile of black dust. “No, their ejon is minimal used only for survival along with the brightness…”

“Dullness now, noob,” cat-like Furno nods with a sour frown at the pile of rich black dust.

Noob means fool.

Bee-like Zcio continues a Touch walk over each dead body and a pile of rich black dust with a puzzled brow. “The scientific expression is polvodera, a cloud of dust bannies.”

Cat-like Furno performs a swift Touch fly and scatters the black dust over the floor, soaring through the air toward the tall red colored rock cliff. “Hey, I said that first.”

Elephant-like Oxbow performs a slow moving Touch walk in the air with a smile, moving behind the back spine of Furno toward the cliff face too. “Interjection, the object used to exclaim immediate attention or expression of pleasure, surprise, bewilderment. And Zcio was more accurate, toar,” chuckling with the others.

Toar means toad.

“You’re a stick in the mud, Oxbow,” cat-like Furno flies over the next body with a grin and a laugh, advancing forward to the semi-rounded cliff.

“I try to stick in the mud, but I’m too big to stay,” elephant-like Oxbow flies beside his bud Furno through the air, moving forward to the cliff too.

Wolf-like Berwick stops with a Touch hold in the air and studies the cliff face that rests inside the middle of the mountain floor. The cliff face reaches up into the ceiling inside the cavern. He looks up with a puzzled brow to see the ceiling of the mountain and the distance of cliff face. “The clouds of dust consist of particles, such like, our and yours skin cells, hair follicles, wasted minerals, and depleted enzymes. All of these remnants come out of and from all the burnt bodies here inside the cavern as the polvodera process begins and ends with a set of finely and diminutively powdered whitely and brightly ejon which is similar to the color of your finger and toe nails that will eventually evaporate into the atmosphere and then into nothingness,” he reaches and touches the rock cliff with a furry mitt and four sharp claws, closing his eyelids, using the Touch to gather new information.

Cat-like Furno halts in a Touch hold in a different portion of the cliff face, studying the hard and red colored rock with a nod and a grin. “I like that word, nothingness.”

“Dust it, furball.” Oxbow stops in a Touch hold over the floor and studies another side of the cliff face with a puzzled brow.

“I see nothingness. You’re very thoughtful, again, my wickedly bud Oxbow,” cat-like Furno continues to touch the cliff face with a chuckle and a grin, using the Touch to gather new information.

Wolf-like Berwick continues to touch the cliff with a pair of closed eyelids. “Planet dust rises up from various sources, such as, the lift up by the wind, the spurting of volcano ash, and the constant pollutions that come from plant pollen, species-kind and beast-kind hair and skin, fabric fibers, tree fibers, minerals elements from the soil and all the burning and roaming outer space meteors…”

“You talk too much, dear,” his mate Dihe Mistress wolf-like Porrett reached over with a stern face and touches his collar bone, studying the cliff face to the top with a set of naked eyes and her Touch.

Bee-like Zcio flies through the air current with Touch and halts in a Touch hold, reaching out and touches a different portion of the cliff with both skinny hands with a stern face, closing his eyelids. “Dust is widely present within Intragalaxy in various forms of ambient radiation heat dust, including thermal dust emission and spinning dust emissions.”

Maries halts in place and exhales with a puff of annoyance, back stepping from the cliff face, moving behind the furry skull of Ginnita. She stops and stomps forward and stops again, standing and bad breathing over the hair roots of Ginnita with a sour frown. “What does the dust sample reveal from the skimmed Touch pathos, Dihe Mistress Ginnita?”

The Touch tells her so. Cat-like Ginnita gasps and opens her eyelashes, still squatting down onto the rock, holding both furry mitts inside the single pile of black dust and softly says. “I have skimmed this dead body of the Noti. I conclude with a stunning outcome. I cannot believe it. I have discovered the relative conclusion and determinable explanation of murder.” Each face turns and stares at the black colored furry skull and two pointy ears of cat-like Ginnita with an open mouth. She nods down at the pile of black dust. “The Noti were murdered. Their medical presentation is not natural.”

Cat-like Furno frowns down at the furry black colored skull of his wife. “I thought death was nature’s the end song.”

Ginnita nods down at the pile of black dust with a sad face. “The Noti were killed on purpose. I don’t understand. They are ejon creatures. They are human-kind who possessed ejon like us. Who would harm them, without inciting us, too? They have no known natural enemy.” She stands and waves both furry mitts, using the Touch to clean off the black dust of a dead body with a worried brow.

Furno swings a face back to see the rock cliff with a nod and a worried brow, “Yes, they do.”

Oxbow swings a face back to see the cliff too, shaking a white curly skull, “No, they didn’t.”

Maries tosses both arms with her bato in the air with a sour frown of frustration. “How are we to solve this mysterious murderous malady of our far, far away ejon cousins?” She drops her arms with a moan.

Furno reaches out and gently rubs the object on the cliff face with a nod and a grin. “Footprints, there are many sets of footprints within the cliff face.”

“Impossible, this is impossible. That is impossible.” Zcio opens his eyelids and drops open a mouth, performing a Touch down toward the floor and halts in a Touch hold in the air, parking near the face of Furno, studying the tier of the face cliff in puzzlement.

“Favored word for the day, Zcio,” Oxbow reaches out and touches the rock with a chuckle and a smile.

“My favorite word for the day is sliders,” wolf-like Berwick reached out and re-touches the rock with a smile and a tongue drool.

Lion-like Teeger slowly advances through a Touch walk over the rest of the dead bodies and the piles of black dust and halts in a Touch hold, reaching out and touches the rock cliff, sniffing the air molecules with his natural senses that are coupled with his Touch senses. “I believe that we have found our mysterious murderers. I am sniffing them on the top level near the cliff peak.”

“Maybe,” Maries marches ahead over the hard floor toward a curved side of the cliff face with a sour frown and a matching tone.

Human-like Womack halts in a Touch hold and stands in front of the face cliff, pulling out a set of climbing rope from the vest of his Dihe outfit and performs a Touch toss of the single rope through the air as the single rope hook lands on the top ledge of next highest tier of one hundred and fifty feet up the cliff face. He uses a Touch climb, scaling up the rock face with a loud grunt, kissing the rock with a stern face and a serious order, “Everyone, climb up the face cliff. Then, we’ll surprise the murderers with our ejon ways.”

Wolf-like Berwick reaches down and grabs inside the vest, tossing up the ropes and climbs a body sideways over the smooth rock with a smile. “Sliders, the beasts crawl on its belly without feet or hands with a set of sharp razor fangs. If one is caught, then the orange meat is tangy and juicy when fire-stoved.”

Elephant-like Oxbow reaches down and grabs inside the vest, tossing up the single rope, climbing a large body vertically up toward the cliff with a smile. “Sliders live on the planet of Gesclide within the mud flats…”

“Yes, they do,” rat-like Knell stands in place behind the rest of the clan, disobeying the command of Womack and watches the noobs. Each noob kisses the rock with a face, slowly moving up the rope and over the face cliff. She smiles. “Sliders live outside in the pool water of this mountain too.”

Bee-like Zcio performs a Touch fly up the cliff face beside the furry ear of Furno with a stern face, not kissing the rock like the other Dihe. “Those are snakes, non-poisonous and non-edible, unless you like to vomit in neon green lumps of slimy clumps of spit mucus from a stomach lining, Dihe Mistress Knell,” chuckling with the others.

Oxbow continues to climb vertically up with a set of wiggling four hoofs over the single rope, kissing the rock with a smile. “Gesclide holds five separate land masses, consisting of bodies of water that stand in flat, low-lying areas of streams that flow into rivers. Then the river water runs into a set of marshy lakes. Gesclide holds five separate divisions of land that is filled with mud, wet dirt, and lots of rain, and an abundance of rain showers without the thunder and lightning scary elements. The planet exports mud and sliders. Sliders are snake-like creatures that are eaten and consumed by all, including species-like, human-like, creatures-like, and beasts-like.”

Berwick continues to climb sideways with a laugh, kissing the rock with a grin. “A Pacderdom does not forget nothing. Is that right, Oxbow?”

“I’m not a Dihe Master for nothing,” Oxbow continues to climb vertically up and kisses the rock with a grin.

Rat-like Knell moves and climbs vertically up the cliff face beside her mate Putack, using a set of her sharp claws plus her Touch with a sour frown. “Don’t step on the ejon trail!”

“What ejon trail? It’s all dust, black and floatie,” Oxbow continues to climb vertically up and kisses the rock with a sour frown.

“You go back to dust after the, the end,” Furno continues to climb sideways up and kisses the rock with a smile.

“So, Koos really does have us a slider dinner for tonight, after our fandango today,” Berwick continues to climb sideways up and kisses the rock with a tongue of mouth drool and a grin.

“Who talks like that, using that ancient word, fandango?” Furno climbs and chuckles.

Wolf-like Berwick climbs and kisses the rock with a tongue of mouth drool. “She-wolf, tell him?”

His mate wolf-like Porrett slowly stomps horizontally up the cliff face on a set of boots, pulling beside her mate on the rope with a smile and a tongue of mouth drool. “I can feel my salvia drooling down my throat for some lavender colored bloody raw sliders.”

Furno climbs sideways up the cliff and kisses the rock with a grin. “It’s drooling down your mouth too. Shut it, she-wolf!” Porrett swings a distorted face to see Furno. He chuckles. “Not your drool, the word fandango, Porrett.” She turns with a giggle and climbs up the cliff face.

Zcio continues the Touch fly beside the furry ear point of Furno with a smile. “O. Fandango means lively dance with music, singing, and instruments.”

“What about food and beverages?” Knell yells with a sour frown beside her husband and behind the back spines of each Dihe.

“That’s a given like in quantum science. You dance. You sing. You rest. You eat.” Zcio flies and grins beside Furno.

“We eat sliders fresh today from the morning shipment,” Furno climbs and smiles at the rock.

“How do you know, Furno?” Berwick climbs and frowns at the rock.

“The Touch tells me so.” Furno chuckles and climbs.

“Such piety from a set of arrogant supernatural noobs,” Maries halts in a horizontal pose on her boot toes on the cliff face and turns with a sour frown to stare in the direction of Furno and the other male Dihe without seeing a body or a face or a piece of rope. Ironically, the climbing maneuver has separated the males from the females.

“I agree with Maries.” Thane halts in a horizontal pose on her boot toes next to Maries and turns with a sour frown, staring in the direction of Furno too without seeing the rest of the other Dihe. She and Maries are climbing up the curved portion of the face cliff.

“And I don’t agree with Thane.” Teeger halts on the face cliff with a set of sharp claws below Thane and stares up with a tongue drool to see her…yeah.

Furno stops and reaches out, touching one of the imprints with a confused brow. “I see clearly more foot prints this high up over the cliff face. Whose turn is it to fly and observe the heavens?”

Berwick climbs and kisses the rock with a laugh, “Oxbow.”

Zcio stops in a Touch hold and studies the foot prints with a puzzled brow. “How did they do that? The imprints are sideways, pointing at the side over the rock cliff. How in the galaxy did that happen?”

Furno reaches out and touches each new object, “One, two, three…”

Oxbow climbs and kisses the rock with a frown, “Stop counting, Furno.”

Berwick climbs sideways up the cliff and kisses the rock with a laugh. “Don’t worry! He can’t count pass the number three.”

“Four,” laughs Furno.

“Okay, maybe to four,” Berwick climbs up and kisses the rock with a snigger.

“Five,” laughs Furno.

Womack halts in a Touch hold, leaning to each side to see the Dihe. A set of two separate Dihe teams climb up the rock face on a different side. He orders with a stern face. “Furno and Oxbow and the others on that side of the cliff face, you take my right directional walking pathway. Climb up and over the ledge and halt. Maries and the other Dihe on that side of the cliff face, you take my left directional walking pathway and wait for us to arrive before the strike. Then, all the Dihe will attack from both sides.”

Thane slowly climbs vertical up the rope, moving beside Maries, kissing the rock face with a smile. “Ceffee baked the most delicious sweet doughies for me, yesterday. My daughter loves to cook and clean, every day. Her room is neatly perfect. Her twin sister Ezatala loves to decorate the house with an array of beautiful furnishings. They will be great mates, some day. I believe within my heart that some day is coming very soon, soonest…”

Maries climbs up the face and turns with a gasp to see the side horse-face of Thane. “They’re mated to whom, Thane?”

Thane continues to climb vertically up the face cliff and kisses the rock with a smile. “Not yet, but coming very soon, Maries. Look at the jo-jo doll. He can talk and walk sideways. My daughters will never…”

Zcio performs a Touch hold in the air beside the furry ear of Furno. Furno stops climbing, reaching out and touches the new imprint with a puzzled brow in silence. Zcio frowns at the imprint. “What do you see, Furno?”

Furno frowns with puzzlement, tapping the imprint. “There are many sets of foot prints here and there and here and all over the side of the cliff. There are many pairs of foot prints. Hey, these buds are in a set of bare feet.”

Zcio frowns at the imprint. “Barefooted, do you really see a set of naked feet and toes?”

Furno laughs. “I see naked toes. There are one, two, three, four, and five of them naked toes. He’s definitely human-like. Looky here, when I place my boot inside one of the naked foot imprint…”

“Get off the feet prints! You’re contaminating the hard physical evidence, Furno.” Zcio shouts with a panic as his eyeballs and his Touch are recording the imprinted image over the cliff face. He jabs a sharp claw at the rock face with a puzzled brow. “What happened to the foot print, Furno? Where is it?”

“It disintegrated into nothingness like the dust bannies,” Furno frowned at the new smooth rock, where a naked imprint of toes was before.

Oxbow climbs up the cliff and kisses the rock with a laugh, “Furno might be mighty.”

“Right on, bud!” Furno raises and slaps back down a hand onto the cliff face, catching his balance with the Touch with a grin and a chuckle.

Zcio exhales with a puff of frustration. “His ejon does not destroy other ejon. There is something else here. I do believe it might be another human-like or species-like…”

“The Vilo clan is here on our planet of Mercian. They are human-like with a set of five naked toes,” Berwick climbs up the cliff and kisses the rock with a sneer and a tongue of drool.

“Impossible, this is impossible. That is impossible.” Zcio halts in a Touch hold with a confused brow next to Furno.

Womack starts to climb vertical up the cliff and kisses the rock with a stern face, “Stay alert, Dihe!”

Furno slams a hand, climbing sideways over the rope, kissing the rock with a smile. “Vilo, the violators of power and greed, but I’m the quick draw…”

“More like slow draw…” Berwick slaps a hand on the cliff and kisses the rock with a chuckle.

“I was the fast draw inside the Pit during our battle match, bud.” Furno slaps a hand on the ledge of the next tier, climbing and stands on top of the new floor with a smile and a nod.

“I was the quick draw inside the Pit during our battle match, blossom,” Oxbow slaps a hoof and climbs over the ledge, standing in place, dropping the rope over the floor. He turns and scans the next tier level to see hundreds and hundreds of dead bodies with a huff, “More dead Noti,” he looks up with a puzzled brow to see the next upper tier of the high cliff face.

Each Dihe reaches the next tier that is one hundred and fifty feet down from the ground floor, standing in place to see all the dead bodies over the hard cave floor with a sour frown.

Womack reaches the next tier and climbs over the edge, standing in place, seeing the current level of dead bodies and exhales with a huff of frustration, looking up to see the next far away tier in the distance. “We don’t climb anymore. We jump and soar with our Touch like a visible wind storm and land up onto the next level together,” he turns and scans the level. The Dihe are standing in place and stares up at the next rock ledge also. Womack turns back and looks up to see the rock ledge, bending both kneecaps, performing a Touch leap and shouts, “Jump…”

 

 

Hours 15 and minutes 22

Third cliff level

 

 

Human-like High Dihe Master Womack lands first as each member of Dihe tribe flies through the air and squats down, landing in a Touch drop and then stands fully upright one by ones and twos by twos. Womack stares with a stern face at the group of human-kind, who stand and squat over a dead body of the Noti.

Bee-like Zcio Touch flies up through the air and halts in a Touch hold with a gasp at the same group of human-kind. “The galactic Cannibees, we found the Cannibees.”

“We did,” Womack exhales with a huff of frustration.

“I see blood dripping from each mouth,” wolf-like Porrett stands in place with a smirk as her barbaric canini instincts tingle with killing pleasure.

Human-like Maries stands next to Thane with a puff of determination, staring at the group of human-kind. “Womack, the Establishment has issued a vile and harsh warning about the Cannibees.”

“They did,” Womack stares with a sour frown at the Cannibees.

Elephant-like Oxbow stares with a sour frown at the group of human-kind. “They eat everything, including plant stems, flower petals, animal tails, mammal bones, human-like feet and toenails, and disgusting other non-digestible things, that I will not mention within mixed company.”

“I see naked human-kind wearing only a piece of dirty cloth over their…yeah,” Siryon smiles at the naked group of Cannibees.

“They eat each other too when hungry which has evolved over the time frame of three thousand years.” Berwick shakes a furry skull as his barbaric canini instincts tingle with ugly disgust.

Womack frowns with sadness, reaching down and pulls out his personal bato in silence.

The bato is the tool of the Dihe which focuses the ejon energy toward an object, alive or dead. The bato is no longer than the length of longest fingernail or a related digit on the hand, going backward and down to the crooked elbow or the other related body part on a species-kind.

Some batos are shorter than his. Some batos are longer than Womack’s.

The bato is made from personal choice of any natural mineral, such like, wood from a tree; rock from a boulder; metal from an ore, or crystal from a gemstone. The bato is not made from wooden paper that folds, fabric that bends, or glass that breaks.

The first carved bato which is by a second Prime is usually constructed of wood from a young green and strong tree. As the Prime grows and expands into the next rank of first Prime, the personal bato is newly constructed of a harder mineral, such like, a large rock or a piece of strong metal. A crystal bato is the weapon of an advanced Prime only. However, some of the more talented first Primes possess a crystal bato that was award from a set of advanced fighting skills inside the Pit, where the place exhibits the true test of a Dihe warrior.

The Dihe male dresses in a pair of comfortable trousers and a pair of high-knee boots, any color. The trousers are paired with a long sleeved shirt and a leather vest, any color. The vest holds and hides many Dihe tools, including the bato.

The Dihe female wears a pair of comfortable scooter skirt and a pair of thigh boots, any color. The bato is usually hidden inside the leather vest of the Prime. Intragalaxy thrives in an atmosphere of peace and prosperity, since the last civil war from 29,000 years ago.

The Dihe tribe is a group of workers within Intragalaxy that is similar to a cake baker who bakes cakes or a shoe maker who makes shoes. Thus, the Dihe treasure chest supplies food, shelter, and employment for the survival of the tribe.

Maries reaches down and pulls out her bato from the vest, raising the weapon above her blonde colored hair roots with mouth spittle of fury. “To the death…”

Womack stands in place, watching and waiting for any additional trouble on the far ledge of the tier.

Each Cannibee turns and sneers at the Dihe clan in protective self-defense. They charge forward, running over the hard floor on a pair of naked feet with five toes, rising a piece of eaten bloody human-like bone from the dead Noti over a bald skull at each one of the Dihe clan members.

Furno advances forward without stopping and swings down and slices a personal bato into the guts of the tall male Cannibee. The male falls forward as Furno sidesteps over the floor, watching the Cannibee die.

Oxbow runs ahead and stops, reaching out and punches a folded fist at a tall female Cannibee. She stumbles backward and falls down upon the rock, closing her eyelashes in pain. He reaches down with a loud grunt and stabs her heart with the bato, ending her life force. She wheezes a last breath with a moan of pain.

Zcio buzzes around a teenling Cannibees, studying the unique human-like with a puzzled brow and his Touch talents. The teenling swings a bloody bone at the bee-like species, missing. Zcio reaches out and stabs the teenling inside the eyeball with the bato tip, ending the life force of the Cannibee, too.

Maries slices a bato to the left and to the right into a thick middle row of adult Cannibees, killing each one swiftly and deadly. She works a straight line through the crowd and slams into the face of the cliff, swinging around with a grunt and runs, attacking more of the fighting prey with a sneer.

Womack shakes a skull with a huff of sickness of disgust and sadness of death. The Cannibees are a vile species within Intragalaxy, eating the talking and thinking the other populous like a starved animal. The proclamation of eliminating the Cannibees is a wise move on First governor Yamhill.

However, Womack did not expect to be the executor of the justice here on planet Mercian.

The Dihe warriors easier killed the tall, skinny, and half-naked semi-beasts that did not possess a single sharp weapon into one big gory red bloody slaughter. Then all the Dihe stopped fighting, after the last dead Cannibee hit the bloody rock floor.

Each one squats down over the dry rock and cleans off an individual bato of gray guts, pink tissue, and red blood onto the shirt tail, reaching over and back slapping a collar bone in smiling victory.

Furno spins around and advances first to Womack, stopping and stands, shaking his skull with a puzzled brow. “That was too easy and convenience for me. What the dack is going on here, Womack?”

Oxbow spins around and arrives second, stopping and standing over the black colored hair roots of Womack with a sour frown and a nod. “I do not like killing innocents even when they are not truly innocents, but it is a natural way of life for them. I agree with my good bud Furno.”

Womack nods with a stern face to Oxbow and Furno. “I suspect that our friendly foe First governor Yamhill had a vicious hand inside our unique Dihe playground, today.”

 

 

Fourth tier of the cliff

 

 

Bee-like Zcio lifts up and flies through the air on Touch speed to the next tier level, scouting for additional trouble. The fourth level shows an assortment of more burnt and dead bodies of the Noti without any body-consuming Cannibees.

Siryon lifts up and flies through the air currents on Touch speed beside Zcio with a stern face to the next tier level, seeing the same thing. “I don’t see any more Cannibees on this level. There are many more dead bodies, thou.”

He floats with a Touch hold in the air wave with a puzzled brow, staring at the dead bodies, “Me either. Why would the Cannibees burn all the dead bodies? That maneuver does not make any sense to my brain cells.”

She floats with a Touch hold beside Zcio, staring with a smile at each dead body. “It must be a ritual, after eating. A rotten body will smell over time while decaying the tissue and organs and bones back into dust. You know that we all go back into dust bannies,” giggling.

He nods with a stern face. “A very good observation, Siryon, I concur with your conclusion. A stinky body will reveal and revel an immediate identification here on Notian Karst.”

She flies sideways and bumps into his body on purpose with a grin and a giggle, feeling his short fuzzy hair. “Sorry about that! Thank you, Zcio.”

They lift and fly with a Touch speed to the fifth level, soaring above more piles of black dust of dead Noti.

Zcio hovers in the air with a Touch hold and looks up with a puzzled brow to see the top level of the cliff face. “There is one more tier up there,” he looks down with a puzzled brow to see the ground level of flat rock floor. “The Noti used the inner walls of the mountain as a shelter home for many centuries, maybe eons. I guess there will be another nomad civilization that will take up residence here pretty soon.” He turns and views the top level of the cliff face with a stern face. “Let’s view the top of the peak and then fly back down to the others and go back home to Dihe Outpost One.”

Siryon turns and stared with a stern face at the third tier, where the other Dihe are standing. “Womack is packing up and sending all the warriors back home. Our task is finished for the day. Maybe, we could do something fun for the afternoon…”

“Yes,” Zcio turns and winks with a grin at her. “Are you attending the slider barbeque at the house of Koos with me?”

Siryon looks up with a smile and bumps into his body again. “That would be really nice and fun with you, tonight.”

They lift and fly with Touch speed toward the ceiling and halt in a Touch hold, hovering over the top level of flat rock.

 

 

Fifth tier at the top of the cliff

 

 

Zcio gasps at the new level. “Look at that, the rock ledge is white colored, not red colored,” he flies forward and sails around the object with Touch flight.

Siryon gasps and flies beside him with Touch flight and a puzzled brow. “What is that in the middle of the white tinted rock?”

Zcio stops in the air waves in a Touch hold with a puzzled brow at the object. “I do not know. It appears to be, such like, a creative design or a piece of art work or a hidden message or something of great importance. I suspect it was left by the Noti people before they were all eaten by the nasty vile human-kind Cannibees.”

“We must tell this to Womack,” Siryon stops beside him and stares down with a puzzled brow at the design.

Zcio nods. “Yes, we must immediately.”

They fly backward from the fifth tier and the mysterious design and then drop down through the air waves with a Touch down and halt in a Touch hold in front of the face of Womack.

 

 

Third tier with Womack

 

 

Zcio performs a Touch hold in the air waves, saying with a stern face to the nose bridge of Womack. “You must see this design on top of the highest peak, Womack. It is a great mystery plus creepy.” Womack frowns then nods in silence.

Zcio, Siryon, and Womack lift up from the hard floor and fly into the air by Touch speed and drop down with a Touch land on the top of the highest rock platform.

 

 

Fifth tier on top of the cliff

 

 

Womack stands in place with a gasp, staring down at the floor design. “Yeah, this is really mysterious and creepy.”

Zcio floats in the air with a Touch hold near the eardrum of Womack, staring down with a stern face at the floor design. “Yeah, this is really mysterious and creepy.”

Siryon floats within the air with a Touch hold near the other eardrum of Womack, staring down with a puzzled brow to the floor design. “Yeah, this is really mysterious and creepy.”

Womack exhales with a huff of puzzlement and squats over the floor, reaching out and touches the closest item. “This is a human-kind bone, firm and strong. The color is slightly dull colored white like it has been kept warm and toasty and roasty…”

“Did the Cannibees roast the bones before they ate them?” Siryon slowly floats down and performs a touch hold near the eardrum of Womack,

“My understanding, the Cannibees clan only consumes the soft meat parts and the softer organs. I do not believe that they consume the hard bones, only a beast with a set of strong jaw lines and thick fangs could chew through bone fibers,” Zcio slowly floats down and halts with a Touch hold near the other eardrum of Womack.

Womack nods. “I agree. What does the creepy design represent?”

Siryon frowns. “How many human-kind bones are there within the creepy design? This platform is about 500 feet in length by 500 feet in height. The entire design is made from human-kind bones only. Why use human-kind skulls? I recognize the rounded shape of the human-kind skull.”

Womack laughs. “The Cannibees liked to play with their food like little kids.”

Zcio frowns. “No.”

Siryon says. “The human-kind skulls are grouped like a puzzle or a plan or a plot. That’s it! The Noti were going to move or evacuate from the Notian Karst.”

Zcio turns and studies each cavern walls from top to ground level with puzzlement. “No, the cliff walls hold an assortment of chopped out holes for a shelter home. There are plenty of fruit trees for dessert and wildlife for primary food entrees. And they were completely safe from harm up here inside the enclosed cavern. They were not planning to move, Siryon.”

Siryon says. “O. They were burying their dead here on top of the cavern peak. Why leave out exposed a set of naked human-like bones in which a beast or a creature could steal for chewing or food? The fifth tier of the peak almost touches the cliff ceiling. This is the Noti graveyard.”

Zcio turns back and frowns at the human-kind skulls. “I do not know.”

Siryon flies forward and halts in a Touch hold, standing over the skulls and points down to the object with a smile. “I can prove it. This big group of gathered human-kind skulls is in located within one specific spot on top of the rock ledge on purpose. There are six human-kind skulls. Well, obviously the largest skull is an adult. Then around the adult, there are the little baby skulls. So, the six skulls represented the mom who died and her five children, who died at the same time, so sad.”

Zcio turns and scans the tier and the skulls with a smile. “The ledge is five hundred feet wide. The human-kind skull of an average adult radius is close to six inches. The human-kind skull of an average baby radius is about three inches. Within the Noti, the civilization had lived for long periods of time, possessing good health. Therefore, they usually all died of old age. So, the Noti rate of death was about two per year. The Noti existed for 2,000 years. Two times 2,000 equal 4,000 skulls of deceased Noti civilization which are all positioned on top of this rock ledge. Do you agree with me?” Womack and Siryon nod.

Zcio stares down at the skull and bone collection. “I quickly have added up the baby skulls. The baby skulls represent less than .006 percent of the 4,000 skulls which are about twenty four baby skulls around this rock platform. I can quickly see the differences in the shapes and the sizes of each baby as I compare them to the adults. Do you agree with me?” Womack and Siryon nod in silence.

Zcio stared down at the skulls and the bone collection with a smile. “This is logical here, since a baby rarely dies unless it is attacked by a wild animal or a terrible fall from a cliff face,” exhaling at the skull and bone collection. “I agree with Siryon. This is a graveyard of the Noti.”

Siryon points down with a smile at each skull. “There are an adult, a baby and maybe a teenling human-kind skull here, too, so there are three types. The baby ones are smallest. The teenling ones are middle-sized. And the adult are the largest of the human-kind skulls.”

Zcio nods down at the skull and bone collection with a smile. “Adults die more often than babies and teenlings. However, teenlings die from various accidents of carelessness and foolishness. Right, Womack?”

Womack chuckled down at the skull and bone collection. “Yeah, both are accidentally purposes with teenlings. Alright, I agree with both of you. Siryon presents a very good illustration and an excellent explanation which is logic to me, showing that the human-kind adult and all her Noti children form a set of different shapes of each skull,” exhaling. “This is the Noti graveyard. We should leave the gravesite alone. We will also order Yamhill to leave the entire Notian Karst alone, too. A gravesite should never be disturbed. Based on the positions of the old bones, it looks completed intact, to me. I don’t think the Cannibees got this far up the cliff during dinner time.”

Zcio frowns and studies the skulls. “Cannibees don’t eat hard bones, only soft meat.”

Siryon points the bones with puzzlement. “I don’t get the human-kind naked arm bones within the middle of the creepy graveyard design. It is not representative of the entire human-kind body, only the arm portion.”

Zcio nods. “The arm is a semi-straight line within the human-kind body which is probably closest to a straight perfect line. I believe that the chain of arm bones represents a section between the families like a gravesite marker for your specific biological family clan. My family clan exhibits and executes this tradition ritual, too. Since, my mom hates her sister’s family with ugly passion and fiery words…”

“Okay,” Womack chuckled down at the skulls and bones. “Thanks for the added bonus, Zcio. We are done and gone with the wind breeze, ya’ll.” The heated air blows up and over his boot toes. Womack performs a Touch jump from the rock and into the air and is captured between the limbs of both Siryon and Zcio, frowning with fury at the floor, “It is hot and heated down there for some reason.”

The white colored rock turns blood red tint. Then, the sets of dull white human-kind skulls and bones turn into bright pink then dark red, and finally midnight black. All the skulls and arm bones cool quickly and then morph back into a set of individual piles of rich black dust.

Zcio continues to hold Womack with her arm and smiles down at the new creation on top of the fifth tier, “There is our dust bannies. We have solved the mystery of the burnt Noti bodies. The Cannibees didn’t cook them, after eating the meat. The old volcano hiccupped and then burned the rock ledge, boiling and melting the human-kind exposed bones, tissue, organs, and blood into a pile of rich black ashes.”

Womack nods with a grin down at the piles of rich black ashes. “Now, we leave here, forever.”

Chapter Six

Nimtarts

 

 

Planet Mercian

River Baird setting

Hours 14 and minutes 31

Early afternoon

Warm temperatures and partly cloudy

 

 

The fresh water calmly flows through a tiny braid stream into the great river between the mud bars, since the beginning of time. A team of determined Primes stand at the foot of the concrete slab. The slab pulsates with an array of thick watery brown slimy smelly stuff from its inners, as far as, the Touch vision could see that jets out from the mouth of the water channel.

“A mission of where, when, who?” Rat-like Moro sniggers and squats down, collecting a set of his three fat fingers of the sickly dull brown goo and lifts, sniffing the fingers of disgusting muck.

“Noot,” Koosbay stands with a grin in front of a dark tunnel and spins around to see the darkness. The average life form might think that the short grunted sound forms a low musical note for the beginning of a classical song or some kind of secret sound signal to attack the foes for slaughter. But every single Dihe recognizes the acronym immediately.

Some teenlings respond with laughter. Some teenlings react with moaning. Some teenlings acknowledge with nodding.

The four letters mean: Need tO ejOn iT.

Each young teenling drops down on a pair of kneecaps or the other related body part of a species-kind and crawls behind the butthole of Koosbay, moving through a horizontal shaped dark hole. Each teenling totes an empty backpack on a back spine as it scraping against the narrow walls with a scratching sound. And the rough concrete slab chaffs the skin on each kneecap in silent pain.

Koosbay stands and jumps first through the sunny exit hold, side stepping out of the way the hold, watching each the back spine of each teenling. He is responsible for safety and security of the young Primes for this vitally secret Dihe mission.

“Where are we?” Moro stumbles forward on a set of four limbs, sliding onto the green colored mud, slipping sideways out of the slick hole, crawling toward the edge of the colorful water and halts with a set of heavy breaths.

The next teenling flings down a bony hand and some blood into the wet water and the slick mud puddle, remarking with a set of colorful adjectives inside the dark tunnel.

“Incognito,” Koosbay stands to the side of the hole as each teenling emerges and then scatters and forms into a small huddle of buds and blossoms.

“Hey, I like that dack word, incognito.” His body is folded over at a fit waist and smoothly Touch levitates in the air over each low muddy puddle, smelly pond of green water, and the other tumbling teenlings. Tarn stands upright in the air and slowly spins around to see his best blossom Foxi. She elegantly floats with her Touch in the air and over the muddy puddle and slimy concrete slab in a folded pose, standing upright with a smile, moving through the air to Tarn with a grin and a giggle. Tarn opens both arms capturing and cuddling her into a chest with a smile and a chuckle of fun.

“Don’t curse, Tarn,” human-like Koosbay frowns at the nose profile of the teenling.

Tarn chuckles into the cheekbone of Foxi. “Didn’t know incognito was a…”

“Zip it, Tarn!” Koosbay reaches out and slams a hand with a touch of ejon into the bicep of Tarn, shoving the two teenlings further down the concrete slab and away form the exit hold of the tunnel.

Tarn and Foxi floats backward through the air with a set of smiles and chuckles, turning and drifts to the side of the slab, whispering a set of secret love words into each other’s cheekbone.

The lazy and clever male teenling has a quote for everything, telling at the most inopportunity moment of time.

Koosbay feels sorry for the parents of Tarn, who are most respected Dihe couple within Intragalaxy with imprints of royalty, if the Establishment ever recognizes that lame concept.

Tarn possesses a strong Touch from a set of good DNA genes that has been provided by his mom Maries and his dad Womack. He exhibits the Touch talents sometimes too easily, making the teenling a lazy and leisurely gifted Prime.

The other males and females within his own age are stationed as a first Prime, not clinging to the kitchen apron strings of a lowly safe and secure second Prime title. The other teenlings are diligently working toward the final step of a Master and a Mistress title within the limited Dihe tribe with a set of bigger obligations and responsibilities of something.

Not only purposefully neglecting all the second Prime duties, Tarn only seems to enjoy abusing his status of Toucher while conducting a series of silly childish pranks at the younger and older Primes. The disastrous outcomes results in a set of numerous and long punishment sessions that has been instituted by his mom, his dad and his Dihe higher authorities which occurs at set of various locations within the EDU center, the REC center and the MED center.

At the present time and place, Tarn is busy cleaning out the rooting pests and bugs from the formal war prison cells that were used 20,000 years ago underneath the secret level within the MED center.

Womack becomes so frustrated with the lackadaisical performance of his son that he has handed Tarn over to Dihe Master Koosbay and his wife Dihe Mistress Zeelee. Womack hopes to hyper-jump the brain cells of Tarn into forward and positive action toward a responsible and a respectable adult by the age of eighteen years.

So far, the plan is not working on Tarn.

Koosbay turns and stares with a sour frown at Tarn, who has securely wrapped a set of biceps around his best blossom, a term for girlfriend.

Buds are boys. Blossoms are girls. When a girl is your only female companion, she is your best blossom. Foxi is the best blossom and the female companion of Tarn. Nimtarts is the best bud and the male companion of Tarn.

Koosbay remembered an entertaining Tarn and a shy Nimtarts, who were paired like a set of electron magnets on the first day of EDU center teachings as a pair of young four year old Primelings.

Nimtarts represents the only Prime warrior within his biological family, since the elder Dihe leader follows the old Dihe traditions. Nimtarts and his immediately biological family unit lives, works and plays inside the Dihe Outpost Four on planet Mercian. Nimtarts attends the Prime teachings, training, and tutoring at the outpost while his mom and his dad and all his other siblings attend the non-Dihe workings and teachings inside a set of different buildings that is located on the outpost grounds, too. Thus, the entire biological family stays and plays together, foreverly.

In the ancient times, the Dihe warriors lived within their own biological family unit too. The family relied upon the talent Toucher to defend and protect each family member, especially the weaker non-ejon members, a big responsible for a young Prime within Intragalaxy.

The two little human-kind males named Tarn and Nimtarts were seated together at the same table then became a set of inseparable buds. They worked on assignments, played on swings, raced in pacers, and dated the same litter mates Foxi and Voxi, who were a pair of gifted Touchers of the Feliux-species.

Cat-like Furno told Womack and Koosbay in private behind a set of closed and sealed air pocket doors that he approved of Tarn and Nimtarts as the paired future mates for his Prime daughters, after they defended and earned a mistress-ship.

Currently, the Establishment does not arrange engagements of future marriages but also are not discouraged. However, the Toucher parents secretly and routinely scout out an early future mate for their talented ejon child, hoping to produce more Touchers. The biological and physics do not really work like that, but there is always great hope and dumb luck, if you believe in that kind of silly magic.

Cat-like Furno has generously offered to coach human-like first Prime Nimtarts along with his sweet daughters. Koosbay has accepted the master-ship of Tarn, nixing the old Dihe way. Currently, the Dihe tradition and teachings are instructed within the biological family unit that creates the loving bonding, the tender sharing, and the caring examples of the Touch partnership which leads a young Prime into a healthy and happy adult Prime.

When Womack and Maries couldn’t advance the Touch training of their son Tarn, Koosbay offered to assist, sliding his current ward Nimtarts into the furry mitts of Furno.

Tarn and Nimtarts are too close, too serious, and too brotherly to compete with each other. It works out better for Nimtarts to best his skills with the other competent first Primes, who challenge his Touch talents, expanding his ejon abilities.

Outside the dark entrance hole, Koosbay stares at the gathering of teenlings, coming from the tunnel passage.

The Dihe pair of Tarn and Foxi stands fully upright in the air like magic beside the Dihe pair of Nimtarts and Voxi. Each pair easily float a few inches up from the concrete platform, whispering trivial chats about trivial stuff as the each emerging teenling drops down and falls out from the tunnel passage.

Seeing the four-some, it is hard to believe that Tarn is referenced as the low ball on the chain of second Prime. He easily floats, swirls, and twists with the advanced first Primes.

Coming from the same cat-like litter plus double dosages of Touch ejon parents, Voxi and Foxi are evenly matched in ejon skills and Touch abilities. The rest of their cat-like litter mates lack the ejon trait.

This isn’t surprising to Koosbay.

The Establishment scientists had been trying since the dawn of the first day of the first year within the creation of Intragalaxy to figure out the secret workings and theoretical physics of Touch. The only physical and visual attribute are the odd glowing eerie white nails of both fingers and toes. When the nail touches the common mineral which is known as ectoid, where the little tiny fragments of gray sand are hidden underneath a rock and is exposed to air or inside a water bank, a Toucher is born.

In theory, every human-kind and species-kind eats, drinks, and breathes the same tiny invisible ectoid particles, thus making every one, a Toucher. This is not true. When the particle of ectoid hides, the sand glows with white.

Voxi and Foxi, each one possesses a range of high ejon, making a pair of outstanding Touchers.

Koosbay dislikes labeling a young Primeling at an early age but the inner ranking helps select the proper Prime instruction and training within the critical development stage of a teenling for producing the best Master or Mistress Prime within Intragalaxy. He studies each teenling under his command for the secret mission today which had been approved by Womack.

The Dihe ranking scale is listed. Low ejon is a poor Toucher. Medium ejon is an average Toucher. High ejon is a great Toucher. Outstanding ejon is an awesome Touch.

Moro, a ratty appearance and more ratty personality is secretly listed with a set of extremely low range of ejon talent and a poor Toucher even using the sharp bato. However, the elder Primes do not worry about Moro. His native species relies upon the acidic poisons that are housed inside the pretty pink swollen welts that encircle his plump purple tinted body. The toxic poison could bring down the fairy tale twenty-two feet tall dragon-like Dratux with no problem that are currently extinct within Intragalaxy.

Intragalaxy is a safe place to live, play, and work. There is peace, serenity, and harmony within the human-kind and species-kind which has existed together for past 29,000 years. No trouble. No danger. No war.

War isn’t good for any civilization, but it does perpetuate the creation of new inventions and new leaders with bold ideas.

Koosbay is one of the new Dihe leaders with a set of bold ideas minus a war. He likes to try, test, and trial the teenlings under direct pressure with outside limits and a series of naked exposure of impromptu silly and childish activities or in one word, fun. This secret mission gives Koosbay the chance to assess each teenling out of an academic setting. He can monitor the social interaction, the ejon skills, and the Touch execution. The accumulated data is shared with the respective Dihe coaches plus Womack for homing and handling the teenling Prime problems and projections.

Each teenlings has emerged from the tunnel passage, standing or sitting or floating around a specific huddle with laughter and gossip.

Koosbay spins around from the tunnel hole to see the huddles of teenlings and tilts his golden hair bray sideways, reading the environment conditions of the river braid. He does not feel any wind currents, only warm temperatures and high bright sunrays. Then he looks down to see the mud bar below the tunnel perch with his Touch, seeing no rain, cold water, and high shade, whispering for his eardrums only. “Clear.”

The Touch tells him so. Koosbay bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch leaps into the air with a yell, “Sail.”

“Ejon the ride,” Tarn bends both kneecaps down within the air currents with a laugh and with Foxi. Then, they both Touch leap further up into the air with a series of yells, chuckles, and laughter of fun.

Foxi reaches over and rubs the blonde colored facial whiskers on Tarn with a grin and a giggle.

Tarn leans into her cheekbone with a smile and a whisper. “My human fur just for my little blossom,” she giggles with a grin as they soar with Touch speed further into the clouds for more fun.

The facial whiskers of Tarn are not part of the standard uniform for a Dihe warrior. Maries has prohibited the un-kempt physical hairy display, especially among the younger Primes that are hitting puberty.

Her edict includes her son Tarn.

Tarn was the originator of the rebellious teenling act. As his mom debated and argued against her son, then Tarn retorted with some pretty solid undisputed legal points. All the other Dihe species-kind wear exterior colored pieces of hair all over numerous body parts and aren’t required by a written or a spoken Dihe law to cut off their natural growing minuscule particles of biological re-reproducing cells. Therefore, Tarn is a human-kind with limited amount of exterior hair within limited areas of his biological body too, sorta alike a species-kind.

Maries relented giving the fad a chance to fade instead it had grown into epidemic proportions, contaminating all the other male Dihe teenlings with a head of skull hair that falls down to the collar bone length and beyond. His dad Womack supports the noble and brilliant cause of Tarn, sometimes sporting a head of shoulder length blonde hair plus the visual matching facial whiskers, when he is not on an official duty for the Dihe tribe or is annoyed with the verbal and mental order from his wife Maries to shave it off inside the refresher station at home or at work or another refresher station.

After all the fuss and mess, Foxi likes the facial whiskers of Tarn. Tarn likes Foxi. His legal case is closed.

All the Dihe teenlings slowly descend down from the clouds and perform a Touch down over the concrete slab on a pair of boots, paws, or claws inside the green colored mud.

“What we doing here now?” Rat-like Moro falls down from the sky with a yell and roughly lands on a set of short legs with a grunt, bending over and playing down with the green goo between a pair of naked rat-like feet with a snigger as his white six toe nails glow inside the green mud.

Koosbay slowly descends down from the clouds and floats with a Touch hold in the air and above the mud with a smile, scanning the low lying plant bushes of silver and gray colors for the prey, “Cockshut hunting,” He shuffles the backpack in front of a chest, wiggling a set of white colored ejon fingernails as an individual weapon flies out from the open mouth of the backpack, soaring to an individual teenling.

“No ammunition,” zebra-like Ezatala slowly descends down from the sky with her twin sister Ceffee and halts with a Touch hold, drifting over the mud with a sour frown next to Tarn.

“Spit guns,” bee-like Taradash swiftly descends down from the clouds with a smile and halts with a Touch hold beside Ceffee, reaching out and captures the floating weapon that comes airborne from Koosbay. She cleans the weapon of debris for the kill shot of the prey with a set of wiggling ejon fingernails.

Tarn cringes with sadness, pondering the big important secret mission: spit killing the poor ugly baby chicks from a warm mud home. Cockshuts are wild running little peach meaty non-flying three inches of bird-like creatures that are grilled to perfection for eating with greens and buttered rolls.

“Why are we murdering innocent baby chicks?” Cat-like Foxi frowns with worry and drifts away from Tarn, capturing and accepting the tiny weapon then examines the item. She is lean, tall, and covered in a body of soft ebony skin with individual decorative splatters of bright orange and yellow horizontal long bars and short lines. Her only distinguishing mark from her six other litter mates is an orange vertical bar that is slanted slightly right on top of the black hair that is located exactly between the middle of the two soft pointy ears. Her waist-length hair is slicked back from the forehead for both beauty and function.

“Supper later,” Nimtarts is a tall and slender human-like body frame with a set of board shoulders, a pair of narrow hips, a head of shoulder length dark brown hair, a pair of brown eyes with golden specks, a tone of dark tinted skin, and a jaw line of dark brown facial whiskers. He reaches an arm and captures the spit gun, lowering down to face, cleaning any remaining residue of another’s mouth salvia with his Touch. He is first Prime and the best bud of Tarn.

“And you for dessert,” cat-like Voxi leans over with a whisper and smile into the cheekbone of Nimtarts as he chuckles. Voxi is his best blossom and first Prime as her litter mate Foxi. The difference between the litter kittens is a single orange bar. The bar for Voxi tilts sideways to the left, marking within the black furry hair from her litter mates.

Koosbay surveys the weather, the bushes, and the teenlings, nodding with a mouth whistle. The loud whistle disturbs the sleeping nest as a flock of excited and scared cockshuts run wildly through the muddy grass, so the expert hunter can shoot the spit dart directly at the creatures for both food and fun. The nutritious food product really benefits his four year old son balanced diet plus alls the growling teenlings into a set of big and strong Dihe Masters and Mistresses within Intragalaxy, one day.

Tarn turns and faces the mud, lifting and holds the spit gun and a gulp of breath near a set of closed lips, watching for a scared running cockshut to enter his target range. The Dihe tribe members will be eating dinner tonight at the hof of Koosbay for both fun and food.

Hof means house.

His child of Koosbay and Zeelee is named Kooce and is something else but fun. The kid is cute but smells stinky and feels wet all the time.

Since Tarn hit a teenling puberty. Smells, tastes, and touches had changed his senses from hawk flying into girl gawking plus proper bathing and hygiene techniques for personal benefits.

However, four year old Kooce doesn’t notice a stinky short frame, but Tarn does most certainly, do mentally reminding to stay clear of the kid tonight at dinnertime.

Koosbay taps the sensitive field of consciousness with the Touch, alerting all the teenlings to the thick flock of peach tinted cockshuts that have gathered at the base of the thick gray colored bushes. The entire flock of the chicks leaps up and runs over a small crop of gray leaves. Koosbay sends a quickie instruction on handling a spit gun.

Shoot. He links, connects, and Touch minds with each teenling.

The poor little innocent chicks do not know the faceless evil predators as the small tiny flying darts smaller than a sewing needle penetrate an eye socket, killing supper instantaneously. Peach feathers and toes fill the empty space of air.

Koosbay tosses both arms into the air with a smile and a yell of victory. “Dack, Primes, great spit shots.”

“Great appetites,” Nimtarts leans over with a kiss and a hug to Voxi as she giggles with a grin.

Moro sniggers and stores the spit gun for future usage, without volunteering any mouth salvia over the metal, turning to see cuddling pair of Dihe with a sour frown, “Appetite, you hungry, again, Nimtarts?”

“Always and a day and the day afterward that and the day,” Nimtarts leans over and kisses her nose then her cheekbone and finally her lips, pulling back with a wink and a smile to his best blossom.

Koosbay wiggles a set of white ejon fingernails at each dead chick and places each one down into the backpack which is located on the front of a chest with a smile and a laugh. “Gather all your dead chicks by Touch and then float them into your backpack for transportation. The number of dead chicks you have killed will represent the number of roasted chicks you will eat, tonight. Okay, you can come along too Nimtarts but don’t eat all the prizes.”

Nimtarts releases Voxi, shuffling the backpack into the front of a chest, wiggling a hand of white fingernails at each dead chick for his meal tonight with a confused brow. “What prizes?”

“Got slider patties from Thurrock,” Koosbay places the lump of peach feathers and dead chicks into the backpack on the front of a chest with a smile for his wife and his son.

“Good stuff, sliders patties,” rat-like Moro reaches down and rubs a tummy, scanning each dead chick that he had not killed for his supper but he will consume only slider meat tonight at the gathering.

Elephant-like Gamnon gathers all of his dead chicks plus a batch of alive and dead insects. His species-kind eats the meat when it is covered in tree leaves, tree bark, and soil bugs. He smiles. “Slider, the snake-like beast crawls on its belly with a set of four sharp razor fangs on the top and the bottom. The slider meat is eaten with an orange tangy sauce, swimming over the lavender juicy tender meat when fire-stoved with a varied colored numerous of fruits and greens. The fangs are used for jewelry.”

Koosbay smiles and slaps the backpack over a shoulder with a nod. “Correct, Gamnon. And got us some mower steaks from Harrogate…”

Gamnon lifts and slaps the backpack over a shoulder with a smile. “Mower, the cow-like creature is both food and clothing for species-kind and human-kind. The gray colored raw meat cooks into pink perfection as all the pink juices bleeds over your platter for the best eatings. Mower is a beast with a set of four hoofs and fat that contains all the pink meat. The meat is best cooked for two minutes with the outside charred and the interior pink coated with mower pink blood that pockets the seams which melts onto your tongue, without chewing. If the inside meat is red from overcooking, the meat is rough and leather.”

Bee-like Taradash wiggles both hands and uses the Touch to lift a heavy bag into the air with a smile. “Does Gamnon ever forget anything?”

Nimtarts wiggles all his fingers, lifting and floats the two bags for him and Voxi a few feet from his face like a young gentleman of Intragalaxy, turning and cuddles her close to a cheekbone and a chest with a smile. “Fire-stove red, yellow, and blue flames high into the sky and then toss the pink mower meat and the lavender slider meat and the peach tinted cockshut meat over the fiery heat just for my portion of the first plate of good food. Cook it perfectly and then wash all the hardy food down with a mug of ice cold golden beer…”

Koosbay swings around with a sour frown to face the dark tunnel. “No beer, Nimtarts.”

Nimtarts smiles and winks at the cheekbone of Voxi. “Three slips.”

Koosbay stares at the dark tunnel and watches each teenling. Each one enters one at time, moving into the darkness and back into the spinner ship. “No beer, Nimtarts.”

“One little tasty slip,” Nimtarts smiles. They lift and fly with Touch over the concrete slab.

“You’re underage, bud.” Koosbay scoots to the side of the tunnel watching each teenling jump down the hole with their dead prey. He frowns and shakes his long golden bray.

Nimtarts yells and grins, levitating closer to the tunnel. “Let me lick the glass with tip of my tongue just for a taste please.”

“Yucko, Nimtarts,” frowns Voxi.

“Lick his tail, Koos, just for your pleasure,” Tarn flies behind the back spines of Nimtarts and Voxi with a chuckle, others then jump down the hole.

Gamnon smiles and nods at his leader. “Koorskis is famous for gold beans brewed into ale and cooked into meats, soups, and sauces,” jumps down the hole.

“Pacderdom never forgets,” Taradash jumps down the hole.

“Adopt me, please.” Nimtarts grins at Koosbay being the only Prime within his biological family who enjoy making fun of his weird shining toenails, when his feet are bare.

Koosbay points with a sour frown to the dark hole. Voxi enters first and then Nimtarts. He bends at a fit waist with a grin and a whisper, entering the darkness, “Yes…”

Chapter Seven

Koosbay

 

 

Exo-planetoid Koorskis

White dwarf star with white ground and plants

Hof of pregnant Dihe Mistress Zeelee and husband Koosbay

Hours 21 and minutes 45

Late evening

Cold temperatures with bright starry night

 

 

The teenlings occupy the extreme far wall corner inside the large social room, after devouring a delicious food entree inside the dining room at the hof of Zeelee and Koosbay on exo-planetoid Koorskis. They are tucked away from the nosy adults and the stinky dumblings. The teenlings are huddled together on top of an individual floor cushion within a semi-circle on top of the tile, talking, chatting, whispering, giggling, and laughing while being extremely noisy as usual like all galactic teenlings.

The nosy adults are perched on top of an individual bar stool underneath the stone polished bar table with host Koosbay who attends the beverage bar. He serves a tall glass of frigid ice cold golden beer, not allowed for a teenling either, since they are all underage as dictated by the legal law within Intragalaxy and his private residential home.

Some adults are standing. Some adults are seated. All adults are consuming drinks and laughter.

The stinky dumblings are parked inside a tiny self-cleaning steel combined chair and table on the other side of the social room near the refresher station for a quick trip on pair of naked feet, paws, or claws.

Within the teenling conversation, “We’re called a tribe.” Tarn reaches over and tickles her waistline with a smile. His best blossom Foxi turns and giggles into his cheekbone. He works a ripped bicep on a new fisser (soda) with one hand between sips into a mouth and into her lips with a kiss. They both giggle and share mouth spit for fun and food.

“I agree with Tarn,” zebra-like Ezatala turns and stares with a smile to the rear skull of Tarn, tapping on his sofa pillow with a hoof. Her goal is to one day marry Tarn. He is the handsome, smart and ejon talented son of Maries, where Tarn is slated to be the future leader of the Dihe clan within Intragalaxy. Her other goal is to agree with every word and sentence that Tarn speaks both verbal and mental then conjure, convince, and con him into her side. She would be the best blossom for Tarn, so they could spend their eternal lives together and besting her twin horse-faced sister Ceffee.

“You stand to be corrected, Tarn. We are classified by MEX as a clan with the deeper meaning of family,” bird-like second Prime Yachats nods with a stern face. She is eight inches short, a head of curly dark red hair, sitting on top of the book case surrounding the pillows to see and hear the teenling conversation. The word family has a deeper meaning to her, since Yachats is the only one of few Touchers of ejon within the biological flock of native species called Aviion.

Her biological mom, dad, sisters, brothers, grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles, all died from a virus that invaded her home planet of Purpat. Her home world survived the biologically and chemical invasion, but the population was greatly reduced to less than 2,000 birds of her species. Dihe Master Jahally is another survival of the virus invasion with first senator Grossete, the Aviion representation within the Establishment. Yachats considers all the Dihe her second family as her Dihe family displays affectionate love, praised honor, and mutual respect to her when she was adopted at age three by the Dihe tribe on planet Mercian.

“Sorta of, but we have a distinct social rank,” rat-like Moro sniggers with a grin. He enjoys the debating, arguing, and downright objecting to each personal and professional opinion of each teenling, whether he is right or wrong. His rat-nature is sly and slick, sometimes tricky or tricker with a grin of sharp teeth, reaching over and stealing the dessert from Voxi.

“Meaning, you are below me in everything also, Moro. I accept that axiom,” chuckles Quimpher. He is a member of the octopus-like Pieuvr-species, standing ten feet tall with a set of eight arms in silver sticky substance on top and a blue tinting on the bottom. He possesses two sets of slats for breathing either in the air or under the water, a curved polished silver skull with a pair of three black bow-shaped eyeballs. He hails from the water world of Detz in the far reaches of Intragalaxy. The planet is known for aquatic meals and minerals from the ocean waters. The species-kind is primarily traders of merchandise within the Establishment.

“I mean in history.” Tarn leans over and blows into the furry ear of Foxi as she giggles with a tingle sound, making her emotions shiver with love.

“He reads?” Bee-like Taradash stares down with a confused brow at Tarn. She is truly convinced that Tarn is a lazy teenling, a typical behavior pattern among her younger teenling friends like rat-like Moro. She turns and studies Moro.

“He repeats. There is a distinct difference in social studying habits,” wolf-like Cherwell grunts then growls and then finishes the dessert. She chews and turns to see Tarn. She finds him to be arrogant and allusive in character and might. However, the day is coming when they will meet and make shared blood within the Pit. Tarn is a second Prime, now. To upgrade to first Prime, he has to fight and win against another first Prime, where Koosbay has secretly promised to be her claws and her bato.

Tarn lifts and waves the fisser in the air, garnishing back the spotlight attention. “Hey, in my history EDU sessions…”

“…when Tarn attends in person and ain’t wiping down the cobwebs.” Human-kind Nimtarts chuckles and kisses on the lips of Voxi, pulling back with a smile and a wink of secret whispers.

Tarn frowns with annoyance. “In my history EDU session, the hunter bands are egalitarians…”

“He really reads,” Taradash drops open a beak. Tarn is smart, not acting like a teenling smart-hole. Nimtarts is smart and a smart-hole, who competes with her in any academic environment.

Elephant-like Gamnon smiles to each face, “Tribes also have a social rank with prestige of a chieftain too.”

“You mean similar to a High Mistress and High Master Dihe. Who happen to be your biological parents?” Moro leans over with a sour frown and steals the new fisser from Gamnon, drinking it. “Coincidence to my talk…” Tarn exhales.

“Lecture,” nods Taradash.

“Debate,” grins Cherwell.

“Argument,” smiles Moro.

“From my history EDU session, I have learned that any establishment is a complex social hierarchy of an organized and institutional group of doofurs, excluding the species-kind and human-kind, of course,” Tarn chuckles with the others.

Cherwell smiles, “Tarn is talking about the tiny tick approaching.”

Tarn swings a face to see the four year child.

Kooce waddles over to the teenlings in a pair of new shiny boots with a grin and a giggle and stops in the face of Tarn, since the pillow of Tarn rests on top of the floor at the height of the eyebrows of Kooce. He mouth spits on the left cheekbone of Tarn with a giggle, “Teach me, Prime?”

Nimtarts raises the fisser, motioning for the child with a grin and a chuckle, holding the other arm around Voxi, “Hey, bud, I’m the top choice here, first Prime.”

His golden pupils glow with intrigue. Kooce side steps and scoots closer to Nimtarts, stopping and standing and mouth spits on the cheekbone of Nimtarts. “Teach me, first Prime?”

Nimtarts smiles and stares at the dumbling, wiping off the mouth spit in silence.

“Nimtarts!” Cherwell sneers and shakes a brown colored furry skull of curls. The parents of Kooce are one of the most powerful couples of the Dihe Touchers within the Dihe clan which is next to the mighty first couple of Maries and Womack.

“My name is very cool, yeah,” Nimtarts smiles at Kooce. “What do you want to learn about, Kooce?”

“Dee dee code?” Kooce mouth spits again with a nod on the cheekbone of Nimtarts.

Nimtarts jerks Kooce toward the wall and away from the face, wiping off the mouth spit again, exhaling with a puff of annoyance, “Good suggestion, your first Dihe code. The fight sessions are first cool. You and a vicious foe battle it out and then one dies in red and blue flames of heated…” he sniggers with some of the others.

Taradash frowns. “Nimtarts, you and your partner spur and then parry with each other not until death, first Prime.”

Cherwell lifts and drinks the fisser, burping out loud, dropping the beverage down to the floor with a sour frown at Kooce. “He’s fibbing, Kooce. Do not ever believe Nimtarts or Tarn for any reason, but one which is called highly fibbing…”

Nimtarts reaches out and jerks Kooce closer to a face with a smile and a wink. “The coach sessions are second cool. You and a vicious master work out the battle fighting skills and then one dies in green and orange flames of coolness. The instruction sessions are third cool. You sit on your duff, listening a lot to a lot of nonsense, watching the campad flame into pink and purple heat then the campad dies by my bato.”

“You supposed to reading the material inside the campad before you flame into pink and purple heated plummets of pretty smoke and ashes, Nimtarts.” Taradash frowns down at the brown hair roots of Nimtarts.

Nimtarts smiles at Kooce, sucking the kid into the chat. “Finally, the lecture sessions are last cool.”

“Yeah, why is it last cool, Nimtarts?” Cherwell grunts then growls, eating a second dessert.

Nimtarts turns and winks to Cherwell. “Don’t know just are last cool.” He turns and smiles at Tarn. “However, my best bud Tarn here knows more about the lecture sessions than anyone in this room.”

Kooce swings a smile to see Tarn, cutting his eyeballs back to his parents and then back to Tarn, desiring to know the secret of the Dihe code.

Tarn looks down at the fisser, pretending to ignore the little golden crayon, a favorite nickname from his father Koosbay.

Kooce is golden colored from the tip of the hair roots of a short ponytail like his father, going down to the little toe, except for the ejon white fingernails and matching toenails that are hidden inside his new boots. The brightly shining ejon indicates the child is a future Toucher and is very strong from a set of good DNA from his Toucher biological parents. He mouth spits on the floor with a grin and a giggle. “Why it last cool, Tarn?”

Silence invades the wall corner of teenlings.

Tarn looks up with a smirk to see Kooce. “You don’t sit on your duff for two days from the whipping pain on your…yeah,” laughing with some of the other teenlings.

The golden pupils glow in shock. The rose colored lips quiver in fear. His golden bray shakes side to side and then the green tears shoot loose, coming down from a pair of tiny golden eyelids that flows bright and shiny over the golden skin. Kooce wails at Tarn, “Mommie…” He about faces, running and trips then recovers on a pair of big unbalanced shiny boots into her open arms.

“You’re slider meat,” Moro turns and chuckles, watching the tender mom and child exchange. The slider goal is to eat all the fruit during the sun and moon times until it is ready to pop. The species-kind purpose is to eat the tangy tasty tender lavender meat as a good nutrition meal for human-kind and species-kind and then the cycle repeats over and over again.

Cherwell drops open a mouth, viewing the tender moment of mom and son, turning with a sneer to see the nose profile of Tarn. “Do you have cobwebs within your human-kind skull, second noob Prime Tarn?”

“Naw,” Tarn turns and watches with a grin and a laugh the back spine of Kooce. The kid races and stands inside the arms of his mother Zeelee.

“Only the cobwebs that he sees inside the dungeon wall corners, how many dungeons did you clean last week, bud?” Nimtarts laughs and watches Kooce. The kid flings an arm back toward Tarn with a set of tears and whispers a set of secret words into the face of his mother Zeelee.

Zeelee hugs and studies her son, leaning sideways to see her new enemy with a snarl and a sneer in overprotection.

“Dungeons?” Taradash frowns down at the hair roots of blonde hair Tarn. Tarn is not a faithful teenling within the Dihe tradition or Dihe family way.

Nimtarts chuckles and hugs Voxi. “Tarn gets punishment for disobedience, cleaning the cobwebs from the many, many dungeons.”

“I didn’t know that we possessed the dungeons on the outpost. How many, many dungeons, Tarn?” Gamnon turns and frowns at the nose profile of Tarn, learning of the misbehaving teenling.

“I’m watcher, this week,” Tarn smiles at his new punishment.

“Ha, a promotion,” Moro leans over with a smile and a snigger, stealing the dessert from Ceffee, eating the evidence quickly.

“Mommie…” Kooce yells from across the social room. Zeelee leans over and hugs, lifting her son into the air by Touch. Zeelee is very pregnancy with the second golden child.

The Touch tells him so. Tarn swings a face to see Zeelee as she snarls through the Touch at Tarn. He suddenly feels a new anticipated punishment and then a detention placement for a couple of hours, and finally a lecture from his mom, his dad, his Dihe monitor Koosbay, and his new enemy of another single declaration of reckless adolescent innocent act.

Ezatala lifts and turns, offering a plate of dessert into the eardrum of Tarn with a smile. “I offer you my dessert to you, Tarn,” smiling.

Nimtarts turns and laughs at the nose profile of Tarn, “Dung toar.”

 

 

Hours 22 and minutes 04

Adult beverage bar

 

 

Zebra-like Thane clicks the front hoofs on top of the stone table, ignoring the beer and annoying her friends. She shakes a beige colored mane with a sour frown at each face. “I can’t believe. I don’t believe. The Vilo are here and present on Mercian inside Intragalaxy…”

“Naw,” Golden tinted and human-like Koosbay stirs the beverage and shakes a long golden colored hair bray, missing the action inside the Noti Karst cave, hearing about the death attack on the Dihe with the human-kind Cannibees.

“They exist, Dihe Master Koosbay. I saw them with my own eye sockets,” rat-like Knell turns with a snigger and a nod to her mate Putack. They bump heads and whisper about the colors of the living room furniture inside the hof of Koosbay.

“They have been extinct for over…” Koosbay turns and smiles at the nose profile of Womack. “How long have they been extinct, Womack?”

Human-kind Womack sips the beer and licks the lips of the good tasting golden brew, saying with a smile. “Forever…”

Human-kind Maries taps on the beer mug with a stern face. “The old saying says that Vilo are the violators of power and greed. It is an ancient motto that I heard as a child.”

Cat-like Furno sips the beer and licks the lips, saying with a grin and a laugh. “So, what’s the new motto, Maries?”

“There isn’t a motto. The last space dust told that they once existed outside the galaxy, not inside. Now, they don’t exist. Now, they’re all dead foreverly which is similar to the dead dragon-like species, foreverly, too,” Womack sips the beer and licks the lips of the good beer with a nod to Koosbay.

“I believe my eye sockets. I saw the black dust,” bee-like Siryon nods with a worried brow for her and her baby bees.

Bird-like Jahally smiles and slaps Furno on the collar bone. “Dust bannies, when Furno fried the sucker with his bato.”

Wolf-like Berwick smiles and slaps Furno on the other collar bone too. “Correction there, Furno executed the sucker and then ejon turned the body parts into a pile of dust bannies with a bato.”

“The proper scientific term for a cloud of visual colored dust is polvendo,” elephant-like Oxbow sips the beer and lips the lips with a smile.

Rat-like Knell frowns. “The Dihe have a new bigger worser problem with the Vilo,” sips the beer and licks her lips with the good taste.

Bee-like Zcio chuckles, “Did you ever attend a single one EDU session with me or another student, Knell?”

Knell snarls across the table at him. “We’re the same age, Zcio. I attended all my EDU sessions with you.”

“I didn’t recall at the moment, Dihe Mistress Knell,” Zcio smirks with the others. Since, Knell can be so annoying during any social fun event.

Cullom sips the beer and licks his lips with the good taste, saying with a grin and a nod. “I didn’t know about dust and clouds. Thanks for sharing that vitally life-saving important scientific information. But let me add more information here within the discussion thread. The Vilo Society, the home of the Vilo lord, lady and little pridelings…”

“Pridelings is not a word.” Oxbow shakes a curly white skull with confusion.

Furno smiles, “Well, not a Dihe word, but it is a Vilo one.”

Porrett slaps the table with a sour frown. “Keep your voice down, Furno!”

Furno turns with a smile and scans the social room. “Why? O, I don’t wanna upset the dumblings…”

“Where?” Maries turns and scans the social room with a stern face, returning back a pair of eyeballs with a confused brow to see Furno. “Where did you pick up that vulgar term, Dihe Master Furno?”

Furno grins. “It’s kinda catchy and true like glue. They are young and naive and Nimtarts speaks it all the dack time.”

Zeelee returns back to the beverage table, after placing Kooce inside a warmer bed with a campad for a fun entertainment activity during the remaining time of the social gathering. She stops and slides into the stool with a confused brow. “Nimtarts uses that vicious term all the time, Furno. Don’t tattle on poor Nimtarts.”

“Who’s tattling on Nimtarts, Zeelee?” Koosbay pours out more beer with a chuckle and a grin to each guest. He likes Nimtarts, treating him like the other son. Koosbay enjoys his witty humor, genius intellect, and outrageous personality, reminding Koos of him at a young and adventuresome misguided seventeen year old teen. Furno, who is Nimtarts current Dihe coach, whispered the new gossip, not around the teardrop table, either.

Maries and Womack have promoted Nimtarts to a Dihe master, if his Dihe performance passes the Tag, next week, within the Pit.

Master-ship and Mistress-ship Tags are not fun but more like intense mental, emotional, and physical games on the body, the soul, and the spirit. Successfully defending your newly promoted title is awesome but successfully losing your new title is deeply scarred. The Prime feels rejection, failure, and sometimes depression for lots of the wrong reasons and from the wrong Primes.

The Tag is the ultimate sport in proving your ejon skills with the talent Touch, the point of testing to better your Prime selfie.

Thane stomps a front hoof side to side on the table with a worried brow, spilling her beverage over the floor. “My daughters are in danger.”

Siryon frowns with worry for her little bees too. “We are all in danger.”

“They do not exist.” Berwick rolls the eyeballs and retunes a smile to his mate Porrett.

Thane leans over the table, spilling some of other beer mugs too. “Quiet, Primes. I will repeat softly. Do not alert the Primelings! They are too young to understand the word, danger. Our Primelings are in danger. What are we going to do about it, High Dihe Mistress Maries?”

“They are not in danger. Calm down, do you need a spray.” Ginnita reaches and pulls out the medical can for such an urgent emergency, looking down with a stern face and checks the amount of the slight medication. Full!

Thane stood uprights from the chair, shaking a set of two hoofs, a tail, and a mane while exhaling with annoyance, “I certainly do not. I’m just a concerned and caring mother.”

“A crazy mother, your…yeah,” Furno bumps and smiles into his wife. She turns and eye rolls at her husband from the amusing conversation.

Maries turns and scans the table of faces with a stern face. “We have another working theory about the event of Noti.”

Womack turns and frowns at the nose profile of Maries, sipping on the beer and licks his lips, saying with a stern face. “We do not have any such working theory. The Noti are dead within their home and new gravesite…”

“Not true, those embedded human foot prints came from the Vilo. They called themselves human-kind too like the Dihe.” Maries nods with a stern face to each Dihe.

“We call us, human-kind and us, species-kind unlike the vile and vicious varmints of Vilo, Maries.” Furno turns and smiles at her.

Maries exhales. “This is the new working theory current at play within the intellectual community. The Vilo human-kind had traveled a long time ago from a far away planet that is unknown to the Dihe or the Establishment. Then, the Vilo secretly have hidden from the Dihe and the Establishment, making it appear like they have been extinct for centuries. Instead, they have been here and present for centuries, living among the Dihe and the Establishment…”

“Like witches, ghosts, vampires, werewolves and…and…and I ran out of fairy tale monsters. Help me out, Oxbow,” Furno turns and laughs with Oxbow and some of the other adults.

“There were two human-kind colonies within Intragalaxy, always. The Vilo human-kind hid among the Noti people, adopting their ways and customs for many, many centuries,” nods Maries.

“I can’t believe a human-kind would enjoy walking around in bare feet with a head of long shaggy hair and a body of torn stinky rags. If I was born a doofur Vilo with long hair and bare feet, then I would reject my birthright immediately and become a cool looking Dihe,” Furno raises a beer with a smile and a chuckle, toasting the glass to Oxbow then Womack, then Koosbay, and then going around the table with the male adults.

Ginnita turns and frowns with annoyance at the nose profile of her husband. “Zip it, Furno.”

Furno turns and smiles to each face, “Therefore, we have accidentally stumbled upon the remaining last really red roasted remnants of a dead civilization of big bad…yeahs,” laughing with the other males.

“A big bad anumb, Furno,” Zcio sips the beer and licks his lips with the good taste.

“Thanks for the correction, Zcio,” Furno laughs with the other males.

Oxbow smiles, “The last remnants of a dead and lost civilization were represented by the once mighty, rogue, and incompetent ancient soldiers of Vilo, who used bone and brawn to fight, instead of crystals and courage. The end of my fairy tale,” laughing.

Furno smiles, “The end of the Vilo,” he raises the beer into the air with a cheer. “The beginning of the Dihe,” he toasts the glass with a loud clank at the other males. The dumblings and teenlings turn and stare at the adults.

Koosbay turns and smiles at the dumblings and the teenlings. “Sorry ya’ll, a good joke.”

“Tell me, Daddy!” Kooce gallops from the private sleeping room toward his dad with a set of open arms and a yawn, when he was disturbed by the nosy and noisy adults with loud shouts and cheers.

Koosbay squats down to the tile and lifts, hugging his son with a smile, “Bed time for the Primelings. Time to go home, folks.”

The dumblings, teenlings, and adults exit from the hof of Dihe Mistress Zeelee and Dihe Master Koosbay.

Chapter Eight

Twins

 

 

Planet Mercian

Hof of Dihe Mistress Ginnita and husband Furno

Week 43 and day 3 and hours 21 and minutes 40

Late night of cool temperatures with bright stars

 

 

Nimtarts twirls all fingers around her soft mitt. She swirls a tail in the air, shuffling between a full erection for a friendly invite then wraps it around his neck for a wickedly encounter. She closes her three eyelids, leaning over onto his collar bone, purring loudly.

Voxi and Foxi lounge inside an individual swing on the opposite end of the front porch with a best bud. Each swing rocks back and forth slowly as the boot toe pushes the beat of the two hearts together inside a bright blazing set of external lamps that glows around each window.

The front porch light could blind the eyeballs of a small village from outer space.

The front door is wide open for tomcat viewing of a hand and a mitt teenling action by a set of overprotective cat-like parents. The door is surrounded by a wire webbed screen for each nosy litter mate to squat and spy within the dark foyer.

“Voxi,” Nimtarts sweet breathes into her cheekbone, leaning over and pecks a kiss on the unique orange bar mark on top of her black soft furry skull. He closes his eyelids, cuddling her into a chest, feels the Touch expand around them with hotness of his body and softness of her fur. At this moment no one would, could, or dares touch her, least one dies swiftly and painfully.

“I feel purrfectly kittenish,” she giggles, not desiring to move from her warm spot or her hot best bud. Their hearts beat as one. Their blood runs up and down in unison from their brain cells down into their pinky toes, toasting their bodies into hotness. Their mental waves sync with thoughts of love, passion, and more and more and more…

The door opens.

“Numb-tart,” Botchee is one of six litter mates of Voxi and Foxi, moving and stops in front of the individual swing, leaning down and jerks Nimtarts from his sister as the motion rattles all the brain cells within the head of Nimtarts, freeing Voxi within the cool night air. The left ear of Botchee is half missing, after capturing an ear fungus, a rare condition within the Feliux-species.

However, Botchee refused advanced medical treatment and the proper clinical medication, electing to remain deformed for his terror and his tickles approach like a Dihe male. He leans down and sneers, not purrs into the eardrum of Nimtarts.

“What did I do, bud?” Nimtarts struggles and kicks a set of boot toes in the air, frowning with confusion between the two bulky big biceps of Botchee.

Tarn and Foxi emerge from the sweet kiss and loud noise.

His eyelids open and dart to Nimtarts, who hangs suspended in the air. He leans over with a worried brow and a whisper into her cheekbone. “What did he do to Voxi?”

Foxi turns and blinks her three eyelids at her litter mate Voxi, concentrating a set of forward-pointing furry ears, collecting as much auditory information as possible and whispers with a smile. “She’s purring.”

“Is that a bad thing for her?” Tarn frowns at Nimtarts, who still hangs like a clothing rack from the two large hands of her litter mate Botchee.

Foxi smiles with a giggle at Voxi. “Actually, it is a very good thing for him. Nimtarts has a very sensitive touch…”

“Don’t understand.” Tarn whispers and watches Nimtarts as his best bud struggles side to side over the wooden porch and inside the hands of Botchee.

Foxi turns and touches the face of Tarn with a smile. He turns and smiles at her. She smiles, “Purring, that…the…it…” She exhales and turns with a frown to see Nimtarts and finally Tarn.

Tarn frowns with puzzlement at her distorted face.

Botchee dangles Nimtarts by the neck muscles, holding the body six inches up from the wooden porch, swiftly spinning around and stomping toward the other porch swing and stops, leaning down and bad breathes into the face of Tarn with a hiss, “Time to leave, too, Tart-tart, too.”

“Shore, yeah, going, getting…” Tarn leans over to kiss Foxi.

Botchee reaches down with a free hand and grabs the Dihe vest, jerking Tarn up and out from the wooden swing by a few inches with his unnatural brute force and back stepping from the swing. He spins around with a growl, stomping with Tarn and Nimtarts over the porch, down the steps, and moves over the sidewalk with a sneer.

“Botchee, don’t show off!” Foxi stands from the swing with a sour frown and a shout, flinging both arms and mitts with fury at litter mate younger brother.

“In the house, our mom’s final order for the evening,” Botchee stomps and stops inside the manicured grass, passing the array of a pretty but shredded colorful flower garden that comes from the flock of tiny mu-mu chicks.

“Bye, Tarn. See you tomorrow, sleep well.” Foxi moves and stands with a smile on the edge of the front porch with a hand wave and a set of invisible kisses at him. Tarn flicks a lousy hand toss back to Foxi, struggling within the tight cat-like hold of Botchee, who completely lacks the ejon supernatural talent.

“Bye, Tarn,” Voxi moves and stands beside her litter mate Foxi, waving both mitts with a smile and a giggle.

Tarn tosses a hand wave again, signifying a bye sign, since he can’t move with a dizzy headache and a set of aching neck muscles, compliments of her litter mate Botchee.

Botchee flexes both biceps backward and then forward, releasing the teens. Tarn and Nimtarts Touch leap up and out of both furry mitts of Botchee, falling down toward the hard street pavement. Using Touch, they each land on a pair of solid boot heels and a pair of bent kneecaps without injury to a biological body. Botchee snorts with a growl, wiping off a pair of clean hands with noob gems and a yell. “Good bye, Dihe trash! Back into the house, now, sisters.”

Foxi lifts up on a pair of naked furry tippy toes, narrowing her eyelashes, waving both furry mitts with a giggle and a smile at her bud, “Bye, Nimtarts. I’ll give your wave to Voxi, too. See ya’ll tomorrow at EDU session.”

Nimtarts heel spins around to face Botchee with a sneer and a growl of vengeance and body injury.

Tarn faces away from the front porch and Botchee, reaching out and grabs, dragging the naked forearm of Nimtarts from the house with a whisper and a grin, “Future brother-in-law, remember?” He chuckles as Nimtarts curses. Tarn tugs Nimtarts about face, scooting down the nicely paved sidewalk.

They slowly pace underneath the well-lighted lamps over the paved street, strutting home for the evening. Like or not, tomorrow is another day at the EDU center for the Primeling learning and teachings for Tarn until his mom forgets and forgives which will be never.

The next adventure for Tarn is to defend a new title of first Prime which could be this year later within the winter time, or maybe next year within springtime days, or no time. He has plenty of time while living in a peaceful place forever.

Intragalaxy is Intragalaxy, a big bold boring box of something.

Nimtarts exhales with a huff of frustration, shaking both his curls and his hands, staring ahead into the semi-lighted sidewalk and says softly among the dark houses on the dark street, without bothering the nosy neighbors. “What did I do to Botchee?”

“Voxi purred.” Tarn whispered with a smile, not bothering the neighbors, either.

He stares into the darkness with a confused brow. “Is that good to Botchee?”

“Foxi says it’s great for Voxi.”

“I’m great.” Nimtarts smiles without shouting. He doesn’t want to disturb the sleeping neighbors or the watching dumblings, who are observing all the nighttime movements on the night road. Then dumblings report it all to the parents in the morning hours, prompting gossip around the outpost about certain two infamous Dihe teenlings.

Every eyeball recognizes Tarn, because his parents are leaders of the famous Dihe tribe. Nimtarts is the best bud, so every eyeball knows the slick grin and arrogant strut, since the two best buds are inseparable totally.

Tarn slowly moves down the street with a nod and a smile. “Dack, you’re great and Voxi is fine like her litter mate Foxi.”

He moves beside his best bud with a smile and a nod. “She’s wane, my fine blossom Voxi.” Nimtarts reaches up and gently touches his lips, savoring the moment of her soft kiss and the warmth of her heated body that covered him, tonight. They are one together in both thought and soul while rocking inside the swing or walking down on the street. “Did you make Foxi purr, too, tonight?”

“Shore, all the time, yeah, tonight, even too with you,” Tarn stares with a puzzled brow and a nod into the darkness of the street.

“So why didn’t Botchee bust your…yeah,” frowns Nimtarts.

“…anumb. Zcio taught me that scared secret word. You beat me to the punch, best bud,” Tarn reached over and gently slaps the chest of Nimtarts with a soft chuckle.

“She purred all over her body. It tickled my skin. Her soft fur rippled against my cheeks,” he softly chuckles with a nod.

“You sound sick, bud.” Tarn frowns with disgust and lifts a hand, searching for kiss drool from the slap on the vest of Nimtarts. “You sound sickly like a din-din cub with his wolf-mama whining for attention or something. The something was Voxi that caused your intersection with Botchee. He saw ya’ll. Botchee’s her litter mate, he probably sensed her change within your hu-manly maneuvers,” chuckling.

“Hu-manly maneuvers, I like that and I like her.”

“Botchee doesn’t like your hu-manly maneuvers.”

“I like her a lot. She’s totally wane. I haven’t told anyone this. Okay, I haven’t told anyone so don’t repeat this to a soul,” Nimtarts exhales. “I’ve selected Voxi…”

“Selected Voxi for what purpose? Is she going into the Pit as your Tag? She’s only a first Prime…”

Nimtarts stops and turns with a set of parted lips to see Tarn, shaking his curls. “You really are dack, Tarn.”

Tarn stops and turns with a confused brow, parking both hands on a belt, narrowing the eyelids and drops open a mouth, “Dack, me, really? So, why, Nimtarts? What did I miss here about you and Voxi?”

“The boat, the carriage, and the water,” chuckles Nimtarts.

“What have you selected Voxi for? What is it? Is there a social dance or a yummy dinner coming up or something else here on Mercian?”

Nimtarts laughs with a nod. “Definitely something is coming that will change my life, your life and all our lives like her being my mate. Me and Voxi…”

Tarn turns with a confused brow and strolls ahead over the lighted sidewalk, looking at the street, the trees, the stars, and finally back to Nimtarts. “How did you tell her?”

“By mouth,” Nimtarts dashes and moves down the sidewalk beside Tarn with a smile and a laugh.

He continues to stroll over toward home and drops open a mouth, “By mouth, Nimtarts, does she know what ‘by mouth’ means?”

Nimtarts halts in place with a smile, back stepping and spins toward his house within the outpost with a smile. “I think so. I do love her, a lot.”

He looks down with a puzzled brow at the sidewalk and then Nimtarts, “Wow, dack, mated, you and her together forever. But, what about us? Me and you are so young at seventeen years old. What about us and our new adventures and our new conquests?”

Nimtarts frowns. “What conquests, Tarn? That advantage point is gone, dead, and done. My new adventure is coming soonest…”

“…without me,” he looks down with a sad face and whacks the tall weeds inside the flower bed with a boot toe, “Wow, dack, mated, you and Voxi.” He looks up with a confused brow to see Nimtarts. “What…what changed you, bud?”

Nimtarts back steps with a sigh and stands on top of the first steps, bad breathing into the face of Tarn without waking up the ghosts with his angry thoughts, saying with a whisper and a worried brow, “The attack on the Noti.”

He ticks a tongue and shakes his curls for drama. “We don’t really know the Noti, bud. They existed and died without us shaking a hand or spitting into an eyeball. As a matter of fact, no one really knew the Noti culture and civilization.”

Nimtarts nods with a stern face and a whisper. “Your point is very valid. I want folks to know me….me with Voxi. We will become like a family and such, you know? Didn’t you have feelings for Foxi? They’re twin sisters from the same litter.”

He turns and stares down at the weeds again with a puzzled brow, “My feelings are fun, good, happy…”

“I possess the same feelings, but I wanna enjoy them with my best blossom Voxi. You and Foxi are together. All four of us will be together on our own different adult adventures and away from our parents. It all fits nicely together for life within Intragalaxy. The tradition mating ritual will be next sun, when I’m eighteen. We both will be eighteen years old. My mom’s guessing and hinting about the upcoming mating ritual, too. She wants Voxi to be part of our…”

“What about me?” Tarn mouth spits with worry.

Nimtarts smiles with a whisper. “You can marry Foxi. She really, really likes you, Tarn. Don’t you have really like feelings for her, too? Your mom approves of Foxi, too.”

He exhales with a nod. “My mom, how did she get into our teenling chat?”

Nimtarts slaps a chest with a smile and a nod. “Come on, Tarn! Your parents are the Dihe leaders of Intragalaxy. There’s no pressure in our young lives. We live a carefree existence compared to other species-kind. Human-kind didn’t really fight like some of the wilder…”

“My mom’s working to get me mated, without asking me. I heard the rumors that loving moms do this stuff all the time with their teenling babies. Not happening, bud!”

Nimtarts nodded with a smile. “Why not, Tarn? Foxi is foxy.”

“I see. I hear. I feel. But, I’m not ready for the mating ritual, the home cooked slider meat, the smelly dumblings…”

“Wane!” Nimtarts nods with a soft chuckle. “All those mentioned event comes with the packaging. Love bit my pants! I can’t help the way that I feel and the way that I think about my best blossom Voxi. She’s fantastic and incredible and beautiful and smart. And I’m confused with your new hu-manly behavior, Tarn. I really want a dumbling or two. My mom does, too. We had fun together as second Primes, but Voxi is funner for me…”

He turns and kicks the tall weeds again, watching the stems bounce side to side with a confused brow from the violent action. “Funner ain’t a vocabulary word, bud.”

Nimtarts frowns. “Neither is ain’t…”

He kicks the flower and watches it die from my violent action. “I…I…”

“You don’t wanna grow up and I’m all grown up. I’m talking about almost ready to be an adult at the age of eighteen. Yeah, we’re teenlings, now, learning and studying to be a Dihe warrior,” Nimtarts chuckles. “My dad says that we’re not warriors more like watchers,” he looks up with a puzzled brow to see the dark night and bright stars. “Watchers, they watch within Intragalaxy for something to come and happen. I guess. Anyways, so, I’m going to be a master, when it comes soonest…”

“How soonest is it coming, noob? Who told you that fib, Nimtarts?”

He nods with a smile at Tarn. “Furno is both my Dihe mentor and my future father-in-law. Wane! It sounds like a conspiracy theory, except it is all the truth. You’re second, not first. You need to work harder to attain the Dihe mastership level, bud. You got the Touch. I know. You know. They know…”

“Why are you telling me all this here, right now? Nimtarts, what else are not you telling me here, right now, too?”

Nimtarts reaches over and gently slaps Tarn on the collar bone with a nod and a smile. “You are very talented with the Touch. You need to focus on your long time goals like your parents had done in their lives. This also includes mating like you and Foxi, since long time goals includes lots of stuff like love and stuff. Tarn, you are not like me but on a different path. We are separating. We have a different goal. We are going to a…”

“Totally too deep, best bud.”

“You got Touch clarity, too. That’s dack, too. That’s wane, too. I’ll getting mated next sun with Voxi. That’s wane three,” he nods with a smile. “Later, best bud,” he continues to back steps and spin around, advancing to the door.

The door opened.

Nimtarts enters without a sound.

Tarn spins around to face the lighted street and the dark direction of his home, slowly strutting and ponders within his neurons too much information.

 

 

Hof of Maries, Womack, and seventeen year old son Tarn

Hours 22 and minutes 18

Front door

Cool temperatures with bright stars

 

 

Tarn exhales with a huff of annoyance and desires to be home now, dashing across the smooth sidewalk with Touch speed for his home, pondering Nimtarts, Foxi, and his life. He stops and stands in front of the closed door, reaching out for the door knob.

The door opens.

He enters into the foyer, through the social room and finally into the kitchen with a confused brow and a yell. “Dad, Nimtarts got promoted to mastership by Furno. Dad, he’s going into Tag at the end of the week. Dad, Nimtarts is that good to be a Dihe Master. Dad, Nimtarts is flying on stellar winds at the moment. Mom, Nimtarts and…”

Inside the kitchen room, Womack stands beside the smaller eating table, gently placing an eating platter and a set of eating utensil on top of the wooden surface for snack time with his family.

Maries turns away from the eating table and moves, blocking the archway of the kitchen, capturing and hugs her son with a smile, pulling back with a worried brow. “Tarn honey, what’s the problem?” She cuddles her son, swinging around with a worried brow, moving them toward the eating table for a snack, before bedtime. “You look pale. You seem unsettled. Is Primelings class work too hard?” Tarn stops and stands, pulling out the table chair for his mom in silence. His mom Maries sits down into the pre-offered chair with a smile. Tarn sidesteps and sits inside the eating chair which is diagonally away from her mouth and her face in silence.

Maries turns and smiles at Tarn. “I was discussing tests, trials and tribulation about mastership earlier this evening with your dad. I believe it is time to accelerate your Touch to the maximization output of ejon, dear. The economics are changing within Intragalaxy, honey. You want to try the first Prime title. A big step, I’m so pride of you, Tarn. I’m pleased that you are ready for the challenge. You will succeed like always. I know that you are scared and frightened but this is a natural emotion as a teenling. You come from good hardy stock of talented Dihe. Me and your grandparents, the formal High Master and Mistress Dihe of Intragalaxy, are almost concerned to be royalty here on Mercian and among the Dihe tribe. You should never be shy about your inherited heritage, Tarn. Yes, it is a difficult burden to bear, especially with the other jealous Primes. But I manage and so shall you like me. This is your true reality, dear.”

The droid-housemaid turns from the kitchen counter, lifting from the floor and flies toward the eating table and halts in the air, placing a cookie tray and a cold pitcher of green milk for the late night snack time.

Tarn reaches out and grabs two hot gooey cookies, stuffing on inside an open mouth, avoiding the next Prime trial appointment due to the fear of failure, the anxiety of failure and the disappointment of failure. Since birth, Tarn has been told over and over again about his great DNA, his great ejon talent, his great parents, his great grandparents and their greatness with the Touch.

Maries reaches out and grabs a cookie, chewing and swallows the food, smiling at Tarn. “There happens to be a Tag the day after tomorrow, very soon. Voxi and Foxi are tagging for the mistress-ship. As the current mentor of Foxi and Voxi, they will succeed with high pride and higher praise. Nimtarts will be tested next week for his mastership, thus allowing for an extra opening inside the Pit. There are limited spaces with unlimited tests, of course. All the Dihe Master and Mistresses place a vote for an advancement of each lower Prime. Nimtarts is too eager, too emotional about his test. He must learn patience, this week. Nimtarts has, surprisingly numerous ejon talents. With proper instruction, he could rival Koosbay. Koosbay and Zeelee are second only to me and your dad. Koosbay and Zeelee will always be second to us. Heritage plays a big part of talent as does age, experience and wisdom. The wise rules, the Dihe wins.”

Womack chokes on the cookie and then chuckles with amusement, swallowing the food, saying with a smile to Tarn. “Wise and wins are always together, son.”

Maries turns and frowns at her husband, who sits across from her distorted face. “You have eye witnessed numerous Tags which have been employed within the Pit.” She turns and smiles to her son. “Tarn honey, you’re very talented. You’ll succeed with high triumphant and stellar expectation, but I am your mom. I supposed to encourage and tattle my emotional feeling. Tarn, I see a brilliant young master emerging from the dirt balls,” giggling. “I recalled when you were dusted inside the Pit during your second Prime fight. Don’t fret, honey! Everyone gets dusted during a Pit battle.

“There are three stages of the Pit battle within a Tag. The first stage is the katas or the silly little dances, compliments of your dad. However, the dances strengthen both the legs and arms for combat. The second stage is combat with the enemy. Of course, Dihe have no real foes. The fake foes are a set of programmed droids without weapons that could hurt and sting a breathable body. The last stage is to fight with me for three minutes, since your dad refuses to participate within the Tag. Don’t worry, honey! We have all day and night tomorrow after ECU center to practice your special fighting skills with me for the final stage,” smiling.

“I am so happy that this issue has been settled. Tarn is going to be first Prime, very soon. We will be very proud of his new accomplishment. We can move on to the next fantastic feat. I saw you and Foxi this evening talking quietly.”

Tarn chewed, swallowed, and burped up the used cookie crumbs, tasting the sweetness inside a tight throat, “Mom?” He reaches over and grabs the glass, lifting and gulps the green colored milk and washing the cookie crumbs back down a throat into the stomach.

She smiles with a wink at her son. “You escort Foxi home from ECU center, every afternoon, including today. I see you walk with Foxi and Voxi. She’s Nimtarts best blossom. You all walk together as a clan of pride Primes like always. You like Foxi. I like her, too. She is a sweet fun girl. The cat twins will join you inside the Pit, this week. However, this is a different delicate matter, regarding Foxi and not related to the Pit, dear. Do you like Foxi, dear?”

Tarn wiggles inside the chair and chews, swallowing and burps up cookie crumbs from the second dessert with a sour frown. “Mom, please don’t start with my privacy of teenling,” he sips on the green colored mils.

Maries nods with a smile. “I hear you talk about Foxi, all the time. She’s cute. She’s sweet. She’s strong in ejon, too.”

Womack turns and winks, chewing the cookie at Tarn.

Tarn chews, swallows and burps up the cookie crumbs with a sour frown. “Mom, I don’t wanna mate with Foxi…”

“What, Maries?” Womack drops open a mouth with used food particles.

Maries reached out and gently pats Tarn on the hand with a smirk and a nod. “You are leaving the teenling age of minor childhood and moving into the adulthood at eighteen years old, next year. It is your time to make an adult decision, regarding your almost adult life, regarding females, family and future. It would seem like you have thousands of seconds, minutes and hours for one tiny decision. The sun rises fast. The sun sets faster. In our galaxy…”

Tarn shoves the chair from the kitchen eating table with a loud burp from stomach acid, standing with a sour frown, “Mom!” He back steps from Maries and spins around to face the archway, feeling full with the cookie and milk snack, readying for bed time.

“Tarn, you must be ready for the path of adulthood, as well as, mastership, dear,” Maries turns and watches his…yeah.

Chapter Nine

The Pit

 

 

Planet Mercian

Week 43 and day 6 and hours 14 and minutes 18

Dihe Outpost One dirt setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

 

 

The Pit is a squared-shape open skyline space of grounded red clay dirt and a set of numerous scattered small pebbles that hurt when Tarn happens to stomp a naked foot sole over one. The Pit is surrounded by a one level of sequential rows of seating that is covered by a roof, in case of rain. The Pit is not used when raining or thundering or not promoting a Dihe into the next rank.

Tarn stands upright straight and tall in front of the long side wall. His head is forward and his arms are at the sides. His kneecaps are locked over a pair of bare feet. And he is shirtless.

You gotta love those old traditions before the beginning of time when the Dihe tribal members didn’t wear a pair of long pants or a long shirt, only covered in a single piece of animal hide around your…yeah.

The audience of about hundred or less life forms can sense the nervousness of each Prime candidate, who is trapped inside a set of four semi-high concrete walls that form the Pit. The Prime candidates are playing in the Tag, right now, today.

The Tag is duplicated from a child’s game of slapping the other child on the arm, except each Prime candidate gets to whack the metal-like opponent into a pile of fire and ashes for competition and fun.

Tarn slices his eyeballs to see his best blossom.

Foxi looks half naked, wearing two pieces of cloth around her breasts and her…yeah. She stands perpendicular from his position inside an invisible box-shaped arena of red hard dirt with a few scattered pebbles. She stares ahead with a stern face at the lower tier of the stadium, where the dirt toar and their toar newborn babies live and squeak from the musical noise.

Toar means toad.

The drum bongs in loud musical tones.

Tarn slowly lifts a left foot, raising it into a bent knee, holding it parallel and even with dirt ground. Then, he diagonally twists the bent kneecap to the side even with the hip waist, posing in stillness. He whispers for his eardrums only, “One, two, three, four…”

The kata event is judging, such like, the slow movement, in terms, crispness of limbs, smoothness of flow, correct fast or slow speed of great power, deep strength, seamless control, and lots of grace with confidence and knowledge of the correct ordering sequential steps.

The kata means literally a “shape.”

During Primeling training, the slow posing position is taught to the dumblings as a tangible object that you see with the eyeballs, such as, a bird on the ground. The shape form is a formalized sequence of movement for offensive and defensive fighting, developing the leg and arm strength, the correct posture and gracefulness of your body, and the mindfulness of control. Some katas are low and wide stances. Some katas involve vigorous arm movements, enhancing your cardiovascular upper body strength. The katas are all performed to set of drum beats.

Tarn holds the first kata pose, the bird. His right elbow bends to the side as the fingers wave up to the sky. His left elbow bends to the opposite side as the fingers wave at the sky also. His left kneecap bends to the side even with a hip, facing the stadium. His right kneecap is posed and bent sideways toward the opposite side of the stadium. And Tarn lifts and hovers in the air ten inches from the dirt ground, hearing the steady drum beats.

The flute toots.

Tarn releases the tight muscles and drops down falling onto the hard dirt without injury and then stands upright with a stern face and a warrior’s stillness. His arms are at the sides. His kneecaps are locked. His eyeballs stare ahead at the forward wall inside the Pit, hearing.

The drum bongs with a musical tone.

He closes his eyelids, concentrating on the beats that are vibrating throughout a body, echoing around the Pit and as, his eyeballs burn from the silly painted on gel markings. More silly gel markings are painted onto a chest, both biceps, both lower arms, and a face decoration.

You gotta love that the ancient Dihe tribal members couldn’t read but grunted and fingered paint a fit body with a brush stain of vividly bright and juicy fruit berries of red, blue, green, and yellow.

Tarn possesses a solid blue horizontal line across a collar bone, sorta. Double red vertical lines over each breast nipple, coming down from a collar bone into his twelfth rib cage with a set of many wiggly yellow lines between the solid red vertical lines. His face is smeared in blue on both cheekbones. Yellow sideways lines from each cheekbone wiggles down to the corners of his lips. A green line hovers over both eyebrows for a cool barbaric look of a modern day teenling Dihe doofur.

He rotates both arms and legs upward at the same time, not easy imitating the letter X with both arms and legs, lifting from the dirt and floats in the air. He does not dare snart, a dual sound of a snarl and fart at the same time.

Snart, the ingenious creativity was invented and abused by Nimtarts at six years old and still worked perfectly fine on younger Primelings, presently.

Females could snart also but find the swift loud action more disgusting and greatly disenchanting, except with wolf-like Cherwell. However, Cherwell doesn’t count as a female among any same gender as she is designated as a she-wolf. The she-wolf possesses a set of yellow fangs, sneering between the teeth with bouts of bad breathe, coming from her lack of personal hygiene or eating her siblings (guess which one). She displays a tongue of thick golden drool that salivates over the lips as she watches the twallows that fly outside the window panes during EDU class. Twallows are her native species familiar dessert.

Tarn thinks that Cherwell would like to bite him for fun, in which, she could compare his white meat and his tart juicy favor to her favored nighttime meal of another juicy tart other colored meat.

The Tag gel markings are another ancient-long-forgotten Dihe tradition. The ancient tribal members back in the year one or eleven painted over one or many body parts for terror and tickles to entertain themselves and hide from the wild predators that stalked them for food in any era of role reversal.

Tarn has a set of purple colored wavy horizontal and vertical lines on both biceps and triceps, orange curly Q’s on his deltoids, green triangles on his eight-stacked abs, and a big pink circle with a bull’s eye on his belly button. There is a black tinted circle on his back spine.

Cherwell had painted the bull’s eye in rich black using her fanged bato on Tarn as the bato prickled and bleed his sensitive epidermis one too many times with the fine sharp tip. Too bad, she is not up for Tag, today. Tarn could accidentally slam into her body, drawing some of her precious colored blue blood during their vicious Tag fighting inside the Pit.

The zebra-like twin sisters, Ezatala and Ceffee designed and created all the geometric symbols on the chest and both arms of Tarn, using a pair of front soft hoofs. They gently smeared the paint, tattling an individual accomplishment of home making activities with their mom into each eardrum of Tarn, too. He chuckled on queue during the verbal narrative and then shooed them away, not before getting a single wet mushy kiss on each cheekbone.

Foxi turned and eye roasted both zebra-like girls with a set of her imaginative fireballs protecting the social teenling relationship of her and Tarn’s togetherness.

Finally, Tarn survived and endured the pain and the pleasure.

Inside the pit, the flute toots.

Tarn falls on the dirt and stands upright in a warrior’s readiness, again.

The drum bongs with a set of musical tones.

He sweeps both hands, both arms, and a waist over to the side, arching gracefully like a wind-blown bark tree with fluttering tree leaves on the first drum beat. Within the next few beats, I arch to the right, to the front, to the back and finally stand fully upright from the silly kata as a pretend smoking rocket ship prepares to launch up toward the moon. Planet Mercian has two moons containing nothing but colored in pink dust.

Foxi likes to view the moon, watching the color glitter within the moon light on the ground surface. And Tarn likes watching Foxi.

The flute toots with a set of musical tones.

Tarn drops down and falls over the dirt then stands upright in a warrior’s stillness.

The drum bongs with a set of musical tones.

He lifts both arms over a skull and as, his ejon fingernails point toward the sky. He slowly lifts a body off the soil, pointing all ejon white toenails down toward the earth soil while slowly rising higher from the ground and into the air. His kneecaps are locked, making his legs straight. He floats one foot up from the soil then starts the rotation process, slowly turning toward the right side. His body slowly drops back down toward the earth soil in the needle pose.

He slowly spins and stops in an upside down pose as both arms are dangling down from the collar bone. His hair dangles down from a skull. His legs and his toes face the clouds and as, his body floats up three feet from the dirt ground.

Using the Touch, he controls the blood that rushes down toward his hair follicles without splattering down into the dirt from an eye socket or a nose hole while maintaining an equilibrium pose and without dropping a body part down onto the ground. He grunts from the pose and holds for a few seconds, so my mom can see the control that I possess over his awesome ejon and the fighting gravity of the planet.

Tarn exhales then starts the rotation process and stands upright, completing the circle. His eyeballs adjust to see the world upright once again as the rotation stops with a sigh in a hover pose over the dirt.

The mixed audience, sitting underneath a shaded covered stadium from the bright sun rays of talented Dihe members and regular Mercian folks, do not root or clap or cheer or whistle or hoot or breathe for fear of getting attacked by someone, probably the mom of Tarn. Since, Maries runs and rules the Tag.

Tarn shows no emotion but darts his eyelids to the side to see his best bud. Nimtarts stands with crossed biceps, observing and worrying about his best bud Tarn, his best blossom Voxi, and his blossom Foxi. Tarn turns and focuses a pair of eyeballs on his best blossom Foxi who stands in front of Nimtarts and that particular portion wall of the Pit arena.

Voxi is standing on the opposite side, performing the silly dance katas too which a requirement for all Primes, including a Primelings, a second Primes, a first Primes, and a Master or a Mistress Prime candidate. The silly dance katas are all compliments of the mom of Tarn, Maries. No one likes to perform them, but everyone does perform them.

The flute toots with a set of musical tones.

Tarn whispers for his eardrums only, “Done!” The kata poses have been completed, finishing stage one. He drops down and falls back into the dirt then stands upright on a pair of naked feet in a warrior’s readiness mode.

The second stage of Tag, the candidate stands stationary with both arms at the side. Both eyeballs look straight ahead and as, the candidate exhibits no emotion. Each candidate will be attacked at a different time from a different angle by a droid-attacker.

The droid-attacker doesn’t possess a weapon, only a tall, rounded, smooth piece of metal like his…yeah.

The goal, Tarn waits for his personal computer programmed droid-attacker which has been specifically designed based on ejon talent, age, and total experience of non-fighting sucky abilities, since he has never been in Toucher battle for blood and honor.

It will drop down from the clouds as Tarn watches the other Primes fight with their personal droid-attacker. Not all of the droid-attackers descend down from the sky at the same time, since each Prime gets one personal droid-attacker. A candidate is tested on speed of destroying the first droid-attacker. Once, the first droid-attacker is smashed into metal bits then two new droid-attackers will descend down from the clouds right over the smoking metal pieces.

A candidate smashes the two droid-attackers into a pile of more smoking metal bits over the first one when three more droid-attackers drop and fall down from the sky.

Are you starting to see the picture and understand the dilemma?

The faster the candidate burns the droid-attacker, the faster more of the machines descends upon the hair roots of the candidate.

Please note: Tarn is dressed in a single cloth of light weight fabric over his…yeah.

The second stage of Tag is timed also. Tarn has ten minutes to destroy as many droid-attackers as possible, if he so desires. Or he can play around with the single droid-attacker then mess up its circuits until the time ends for it.

Most of the past Prime candidates fool around with a single droid-attacker waiting for the ten minute deadline to expire into death. Excuse and use the pun!

Then, each Dihe candidate could become promoted to the next level on the first try of the Dihe trial based on zero points from Maries plus the candidate’s combined good kata forms, good attitude, and neat appearance. Face it! There are not any enemies of the Dihe or the Establishment or within Intragalaxy.

For a Primeling to be promoted to second Prime, the young kid paints a body with a set of colored gel and then rolls around in a box of black colored sand for fun. Then, the kid performs a set of goofy silly kata poses, such like, a bird, a rocket ship, a tree, and an upright needle point for Maries as the audience claps and cheers for the children. However, this is not any type of skyline dropping down single droid-attacker or a fight scene with High Dihe Mistress Maries.

Maries and Womack were part of tribe of tradition that was associated with a past tribal culture to help all human-kind and species-kind, a noble cause.

All the Dihe life forms possess some unexplained and awesome supernatural talent that is called the Touch with a visual marking of white ejon matter on each fingernail and toenail. So far, in his short seventeen year lifetime, Tarn has not found an evil ejon abuser other than some weak speculated Dihe theory.

In the second stage of Tag, Tarn could perform with any type of self-defense move, combat chop, simple, or complex fight move, such as, sparring, kickboxing, knockouts, spin-downs, take-downs, body sweeps, naked fist punches (really!) or just use my bato.

The bato of second Prime Tarn is made from wood like a piece of tree trunk and is used protect his body from a sword or a knife attack. His personal bato is the length of his forearm and is shaped into a rounded smooth cylinder-shaped piece of wood like his…yeah.

The bato of any Prime is the tool of the ejon and the instrument of destruction. The bato is one solid piece of material, such like, wood, rock, metal, or crystal. The handle is shaped to accommodate the human-kind hand and all the folded fingers or other related species-kind body part. The blade descends down into a sharp point, such like, a curved finger claw or straight tooth fang that was similar to some of the related species-kind body parts.

The ejon flows from the Dihe through the material of the bato, giving the weapon power of might and light of whiteness in a vicious fight. The Dihe could fly and roll and soar through the air or over the ground or over an object with a Touch talent but the real force was the ejon power, an awesome plus. Therefore, the tiniest Primeling is a tiny bato from tree wood to practice and wand the Touch. A second Prime usually possesses a bato in wood, rock, or metal which required twisting the mineral into the fang-shape. Some of the first Primes have shaped a bato in crystal rock which is pretty and hard.

The bato of Tarn is parked between the band of the loin cloth and a naked chest, readying to snatch and slice an upcoming droid-attacker at any moment’s calling.

In stage three of the Tag, there is no armor gear for the nakedness body, incorporating a personal one-on-one combat round with Maries. Tarn is to defend, protect and show off his perseverance, fearlessness, virtue, leadership, comradeship and competition to the other Primes. He could only use the bato. The continuous non-stopping bout with Maries ends when she stands and smirks over a flattened sweaty Prime body that is still wiggling alive and injured down over the dirt sand.

Tarn closes his eyelids, hearing silence then whistles in the far distance above his hair roots.

A set of droid-attackers is coming down from the skyline.

The whistle grows closer.

The Touch tells him so. He opens his eyelids. The single falling down droid-attacker has selected monkey-like second Prime Suahni, who comes from another planet within Intragalaxy.

Tarn stands within a perfect square with his best blossom Foxi, wolf-like first Primes Laufen, and second Prime Suahni, forming the geometric shape.

Suahni Touch leaps from the ground and performed a Touch hold in the air, slashing the white ejon into the silver slender cylinder droid-attacker, cutting the metal into a heap of small bits of sparks, exposing a set of sizzling colored wires. The smoking pieces drop and fall down to the dirt, burning in pretty colors. Then, the entire vertical cylinder droid-attacker drops and slams down into the dirt, creating a series of black colored dust balls.

Suahni drops down on both kneecaps to the dirt, panting and sweating.

Tarn hears the whistle sounds, again.

Two more droid-attackers drop down from the blue sky, holding and hovering on each side of Suahni. She smirks with a snarl and Touch jumps, attacking the twin cylinder with an impressive set of bato chops and boot kicks.

Tarn hears the whistles sounds for a third time.

The droid-attacker drops down and hovers in front of Laufen, who expertly sliced the metal neatly down the middle as a first Prime. Then he repeats the performance again to keep earn his mastership. The two pieces of cylinder split and dump down onto the dirt as it displays a set of sizzling wires and smoking burnt circuits.

Tarn hears more whistle sounds.

Two more droid-attackers descend down and upon Laufen, again. Laufen continues the battle to earn his mastership with a bato.

Tarn hears more whistles.

Numerous droid-attackers drop down from the clouds, covering most of the Prime candidates. Each candidate is two hundred feet apart for both showmanship and protection of a buddy inside the Pit. Tarn does not want to harm a Prime neighbor, only the droid-attacker metal.

Foxi Touch lifts from the dirt and Touch flies in the air around the silver cylinder droid-attacker, cutting a set of diagonal slices into the thin metal. The droid-attacker drops down and lands in a heap of sizzling smoke and tiny metal fragments down into the dirt.

Tarn stands in warrior readiness for the first droid-attacker and as his eyelids dart to see his best bud. Nimtarts closely watches his best blossom Voxi on the opposite side of the stadium. “Ugh!” Tarn feels something heated attack a leg and Touch leaps into the air, performing a Touch somersault backward from the fallen foreign object. The heated object drops down and lands into the dirt. He Touch spins around inside the air and performs a Touch hold, shifting the wind currents to attack the droid-attacker that had deviously snuck up behind his…yeah.

Tarn rears back a bato with both hands and readies for the kill shot, halting in air space at the object. The object glows in silver rays, an ugly geometric size of round eating platter. He frowns with confusion and turns to see the Prime candidate on the left.

Suahni is bravely defending her person against a set of four droid-attackers.

Tarn narrows his eyelids, looking for the exploding metal parts. One of her slices had sent the sizzling metal into his fighting spot and attached his…yeah. However, he is not seeing any blasting pieces, only a set of shredded metal bits. His eyeballs turn and catch the other Prime candidate.

Laufen is destroying three droid-attackers. All the smoking pieces rest literally in front of his naked feet.

Tarn spins around with a worried brow to see his best blossom. Foxi is too far away from his position for one of her metal soaring pieces to attack the rear of his left side. “Behind me,” he shakes his shoulder length curls in confusion and rotates in a slow cycle inside the Pit. Every Prime has engaged a droid-attacker, except for Tarn. Then he quickly remembers the lecture from the other night at snack time.

Maries had specifically tattled that her son would not get harmed inside the Pit.

“Noob,” Tarn shakes his curls in annoyance and exhales with a huff of frustration, twirling around in a circle inside the dirt when a second hot sizzling metal piece barely misses his collar bone. He snarls and surveys the Pit for a second time. Someone is playing a nasty trick on Tarn. However, he doesn’t see any flying pieces of heated metal, coming from the droid-attacker.

Three ugly geometric shapes drop down and fall into the dirt, burning in smoke and sizzling in red heat. Tarn stops spinning and stares with a puzzled brow at the three objects, looking up with a confused brow and scans the stadium audience, looking for his mom. He finds her.

Maries has added a fun feature into the Tag without informing her husband Womack.

Tarn exhales with fury and stretches out the white ejon ray over the dirt, flying in her direction when the object breaks the ejon ray. He stumbles and rolls into a ball for the collision with the hard dirt, tumbling forward and lands on a back spine, looking up with a puzzled brow to see the pretty lighted sky. The sky holds colors of pinks, reds, and yellow streaks that are mixed with the white clouds and blue horizon. He whispers for his eardrums only, “What the dack?”

The object drops down from the sky and aims directly toward the face of Tarn.

He rolls to the side into a spin and performs a Touch lift up from the dirt in a body vertical pose and out of the way of the chaos, hovering in the air waves and views the madness inside the Pit.

Tarn ducks sideways through the air waves from another sky-falling heated object. The numerous objects of varied sizes and shapes are dropping down, falling from the sky, landing anyway inside the dirt of the Pit, on top of the droid-attackers, the top of stadium rooftop, the concrete walkway, and the semi-naked Prime candidates.

The stadium audience is screaming and running out from the stadium as a set of more falling objects drop from the sky and slam down into the dirt ground.

Voxi drops down and falls onto the ground in fright. Nimtarts Touch leaps from the stadium bleachers and into the air, pulling out a bato, spraying the ejon whiteness and disintegrates each object from his face, performing a Touch dash through the air to his best blossom. He stops and stands with a Touch hold over his best blossom Voxi, protecting her from harm. She wiggles side to side inside the dirt and nurses a burnt red bloody forearm from the heated object in silence and with her Touch healing talent.

Foxi dashes forward with a worried brow and sprays the ejon ray out from the tip of the bato, slicing each dropping object from her foot path and grabs Tarn without stopping with a sneer. “Out of the Pit, I don’t think this is part of the Tag,” she jerks Tarn into her breasts.

They Touch run and Touch leap over each sizzling and smoking object that has been embedded down into the dirt. More objects drop and fall down from the sky, landing and slamming into the numerous droid-attackers which act like a blanket of haven from the mysterious metal invasion.

First Prime Laufen stands in place and studies with a confused brow each object while maneuvering a pair of naked feet around the dirt fires and the shredded metal, moving behind Foxi and Tarn. Then, the three Primes collide and stumble, dropping down and fall over the dirt inside the Pit.

Foxi struggles out from underneath all the wiggling limbs and stands upright, lifting the bato and sprays her ejon whiteness up and over the three teenlings as she acts like a shield.

Tarn stands upright, extending his arm to aid Laufen. A series of red burn marks cover the brown fury chest of Laufen.

Then a sizzling object drops down and penetrates the Touch shield, slamming into the arm of Tarn. The skin sizzles. He jerks the arm out, popping the object into the air, falling down over the ground with grunts of pain.

Foxi squats and grabs, cuddling Tarn into her chest. Laufen stands on his accord. Foxi lifts the Touch umbrella higher and covers all three of them as they slowly move toward the stadium for protection.

A large sizzling heated object drops down and falls on top of Suahni as her monkey-like body drops down from a Touch fighting hover onto the dirt. The heat melts her outer skin and her face and as, she screams in terror and slices the bato at each object. Then she stops moving and screaming, becoming dead.

Laufen leads Tarn and Foxi inside the stadium and away from more falling objects.

Maries has moved down from the stadium and stops, standing and reaches out, hugging Foxi and Tarn. She drops us underneath one of the tables as we watch the descending fiery streaks of pink, red, and yellow heated objects slam into the dirt, the walking concrete and the overhead rooftop making loud bongs and short pings.

Chapter Ten

Dihe clan

 

 

Planet Mercian

Week 44 and day 1 and hours 7 and minutes 4

Dihe Outpost One meeting room setting

Hot and humid temperatures with sunshine

 

 

The rectangular room is painted in dull beige between an extremely large camtube (television) on one entire wall. The other three walls are bare without a viewing window. The camtube shows a black background with a set of tiny white rounded objects that are scattered around the single image. A set of single chairs line in numerous rows both vertical over the floor and horizontal against the wall paint, facing the camtube. About two feet in front of the camtube below the edge of the metal, there is a small table with a single object, a glass box. The box holds a sliced ankle bone that is attacked to a naked foot. The foot is missing three of five toes. The foot is colored in tan colored. The toenails are colored in lavender colors.

Koosbay enters the meeting room and rushes behind the back spine of each standing young Prime and stops, slapping a collar bone with a frown. “Settle down, every species-kind and human-kind Primes. Grab a seat, anywhere. Womack will be starting the meeting soon. Then, we’ll learn about why we’re here at seven in the morning,” he leans into teenling with a smile. “How are you feeling, Tarn? How’s the sore arm?”

“Whipped like a din-din cub,” Tarn reaches up and rubs the rear of the neck and then the arm from a nasty burn yesterday inside the Pit. “Healed, but aching.”

Zebra-like Ceffee scoots and leans into the cheekbone of Tarn with a tint of sweet mint breath and a smile. “You need my personal Touch, Tarn.”

Tarn turns and fakes a smile to her, “Shore, Cuffee!”

“Only if I can handle you, afterwards, Ceffee?” Foxi leans over the smooth cheekbone of Tarn and hisses at the pretty zebra-like Ceffee with a sneer.

Ceffee turns and sits down into the empty chair, slamming a pair of shoulder blades into the back rest, crossing both front hoofs with a sour pout, staring at the front of the room. “You’re mean, Foxi. I’m being nice to a wounded warrior of Dihe.”

“He’s taken and token, blossom girl,” Nimtarts turns and sits beside his blossom Voxi, bumping an elbow into the rib cage of the zebra-like girl. Ceffee slides with a gasp into her sister Ezatala with a sour frown.

Tarn turns and sits next to his best bud with an annoyed brow, facing the front of the room. “Zip it, Nimtarts!”

“Want me to handle you with my Touch, too, Tarn?” Rat-like teenling Moro turns and sits next to Ezatala with a snigger, waving a pair of sharp claws in the air for fun drama.

“I want to go kick some Vilo…yeah,” wolf-like teenling Cherwell stands with a nod and a growl, turning and sits beside Moro, leaning over to sniff his smelly hide with a sneer.

“Hush, Primes,” golden colored human-like Dihe Mistress Zeelee moves forward and stands in front of the row of young teenling Primes for the purpose of keeping them quiet and controlled during the adult Dihe meeting.

Maries stands and clears a throat in front of the electronic map on the wall, smoothing down the Dihe vest with a pair of manicured nails without a smile, facing all the Dihe. “Good morning, Dihe! Thank you for coming to this vitally urgent meeting. For the injured and attending Dihe warriors, I extend my sincere appreciation for your sacrifice in yesterday’s dangerous and deadly swift attack by the vile and vicious Vilo warriors and your continued support in coming out for our war meeting. You might have noted that we have invited first and second Primes, Masters and Mistresses from all the Dihe outposts, not the Primelings. The regular EDU center sessions will continue operating uninterrupted while we follow and solve the mysterious Vilo warriors, who had attacked our Primes in the Pit…”

Cat-like Furno stands against the wall with his wife Minnita inside the overcrowded and smelly room, turning with a hand wave and a smile to see Tarn. “How are you feeling, Tarn?” Tarn turned with a nod in silence, after hearing his name to the adult Dihe. Furno tosses both furry mitts with a smile and a nod to the teenling. “Great, he’s up and moving along with the other wounded and wind tossed Primes from the Pit exhibition yesterday. I am here to acknowledge that my daughters Voxi and Foxi and their fine brilliant Touch contributions to yesterday’s victory against the controlled bots and weird falling fiery objects smashing over our heads under the structure…”

“Sit down, Furno,” Maries stares and frowns with fury, smoothing down the vest for a second time with annoyance.

Womack stands beside Furno and Koosbay and flips a hand into the air with a chuckle. “Let him finish, Maries.”

Furno waves both mitts with a smile and a nod to the Dihe audience. “All the teenlings worked together inside the Pit yesterday, protecting the wounded and then saved the lives of Maries, me, and the others, who were sitting right here in this room, the best of Touchers of our time. I’m so pleased and proud to announce Voxi and Foxi have earned their right to be a Dihe Mistress without enough voting, folks. Stand up my daughters!” Voxi and Foxi stand with a smile and a hand to the Dihe in silence. Furno waves both mitts with a smile and a nod to the captured audience. “Settle down, folks, there’s more. I want to personally thank and give special acknowledgement to Nimtarts. Nimtarts, stand up, bud.” Nimtarts stands and hugs on Voxi with a smile in silence. Furno smiles, “Today, Nimtarts is recognized for a dacking ton of guts, gravel, and grit in his short but victorious battle with the bots and the other fiery objects, yesterday, too. He saved lives…”

The Dihe clan presents a set of claps and an assortment of soft and loud whistles for Nimtarts.

“Yo, bud.” Tarn turns with a nod and a clap to see his best bud too.

Furno smiles, “I’m thrilled beyond my limited vocabulary words to present the new Dihe Master into the tribe that comes with some awesome benefits,” laughing. “I’m kidding, kiddo. We don’t got no nice awesome benefits, Nimtarts, only pain and torture and suffering…”

Ginnita reaches and slaps his arm with a sour frown, “Furno!”

Furno laughs. “Nimtarts has elected to endure more pain and torture…”

“Daddy…” Voxi turns and frowns with annoyance at her father.

“It’s a joke, son.” Furno smiles, “The real news blast, Nimtarts is going to be my new son-in-law. Nice big donations are being solicited immediately for the great big wedding after this important dull Dihe meeting. I accept all modes of shives or land properties or free merchandise.” He extends both empty mitts for fun with a smile and a nod.

“Daddy,” Voxi turns bright red with embarrassment as Nimtarts leans and hugs her with love.

Maries continues to stand and smoothes down the vest for a third in front of the map with a pair of sweaty palms, frowning with annoyance. “We are wasting time. I will introduce Zcio. Zcio is both a Dihe Master and a member of the scientific community. As everyone knows, the Apifo-species are the leaders in scientific technology and advancement within Intragalaxy. No clapping. Zcio, you have the attention of the audience.”

Bee-like Zcio performs a Touch launch from the wall and a Touch fly without wings near a large camtube screen, reaching out and touches his bato with an ejon white beam that surrounds a set of other white objects on the black screen, saying with a soft tone. Since all Dihe life forms possess excellent hearing as a Toucher within Intragalaxy. “This is a black and white map of one-half of Intragalaxy. Space is black colored. The known and inhabited planets on our side of the map are white colored. The unknown planets and stars on the other side of the map are orange colored. The golden planet in the middle of the map is exo-planetoid Koorskis.

“We have never ventured beyond Koorskis. There has never been any need or want or desire until present day. I will start my lecture with the known exo-planetoid of Koorskis. The planet of Koorskis is humid subtropical climate with an array of long hot and humid summers or an assortment of short mild winters. Wetness down pours of rain throughout the year is nicely distributed for growing the famous golden beans throughout the year with a hovering air temperature of seventy two degrees Fahrenheit. The white circle on the left side of Koorskis is the planet of Gesclide.

“Gesclide is the closest planet to exo-planetoid of Koorskis. Gesclide is made of ice and snow, coming from the low heated energy from our single solar yellow colored sun. As we know and learned from EDU center, we have one sun that shines within Intragalaxy. The sun is closest to us here on planet Mercian for warmth and sunlight and growing crops for food and livestock for meats and clothing. However, the sunshine produces very limited output on the western side which is the endpoint of the galaxy as the brighter sun rays stay toward the extreme eastern side of Intragalaxy, if you please. Therefore, most of the planets are actually a planetoid or a star with a stationary dwarf star for both light and heat.

“The planet of Harrogate contains an assortment of northern valleys and southern peaks between a set of three flowing rivers that lead directly down into the ocean with an array of sea beasts for delicious food and fun sport. The mountain peaks offer vast tracts of wilderness with varied wildlife. The planet is dominated by farms, forests, rivers, mountains, and lakes. A natural purple colored waterfall is the best and tallest attraction on the planetoid, in which, each one of us has enjoyed with our family unit inside the nature park. Blue colored snowflakes are heavily influenced by the air masses of cold dry mountains in the northwest, keeping the air temperatures around five degrees Fahrenheit. The summertime is both cool and wet from the frequent green colored rain storms,” he snaps the fingers.

The camtube screen changes with a new bolt of white ejon, coming from his fingers. He continues with a stern face and a serious tone to the Dihe audience. “This is the back yard of Koorskis,” chuckling. “Let me explain in greater detail. Currently, we do not scientifically explore beyond our back door for new planets, new stars, or new nothings. Our current civilization starts here on warm-feeling planet Mercian and expands then stops at cool-feeling exo-planetoid Koorskis, which is exactly in the middle of Intragalaxy. Why is the leading question inside your mind? I don’t know that answer. The blazing neon orange circles are both representative of planets, planetoids, and stars where the Vilo might be camping or hiding. Yes, we have true evidence.

“I am pointing at the small table in front of the camtube screen and the smaller box. The clear box is filled with poisonous air for me and you, but it preserves the savaged foot. The single object inside the glass box holds a sliced ankle bone attacked to a naked foot. The foot is missing three of five toes. The foot is colored in tan which is due from the poisonous gas to preserve the limb. The skin tone of this dead and shredded life form could be any color. However, the remaining two toenails are colored in lavender,” he nods with the others. “We have studied and learned that all the Vilo possess ejon like the Dihe, except their ejon glow presents in pretty colors but not white. For some strange and unexplained reason, the Dihe ejon is always glowing white on our fingernails and toenails of any species-kind and human-kind. The Vilo that was marked and distinguished eons ago wear more colorful nails,” he chuckles with the others. “Therefore, we have proof of one or two more existing Vilo…”

Maries stands against the wall near the map with a sneer at the sliced ankle bone inside the glass box. “There is an entire society of Vilo.”

Zcio turns and nods to Maries and each other Dihe. “This is the purpose of our meeting and our exploration. The Dihe will explore, hunt, and locate the remaining Vilo warriors, living within Intragalaxy. The neon orange circles are the map for us to follow. I will turn the rest of the meeting over to Womack, our Dihe leader, Womack?”

Womack struts from the wall toward the map, stopping and turns, facing with a smile and a nod each Dihe. “Yeah, I’m leader. How many letters are in the Establishment alphabet? Twenty six, we have labeled each orange circle with the following format from A1 to ZZZ26, starting with the closest star and working our way backward or back home to Mercian which is located on the eastern edge of Intragalaxy. I’m assigning the entire Dihe family team unit for both protection and education a celestial object, staring in alphabetic order of object A1 to Dihe Master Berwick and his biological family. I ranked the assignment based on the first name of the head of household for fun,” he chuckles with the others.

Maries exhales with a puff of annoyance, moving and stands beside her husband, pointing to each white circle on the map with a sour frown. Womack spins around with a smile and a chuckle, moving back into his wall pose beside his best bud Koosbay. Maries likes conducting all business transactions within the Dihe tribe with annoyance and bossiness, pressing down the vest with a pair of sweaty palms for the fourth time, saying without a smile to each face. “These planets, planetoids, and stars are all protected by our Establishment government and serviced by the Dihe. The orange circles are the cities of the Vilo which we know exist and reproduce and live and work and fight with others, including us.”

“We are not warriors,” wolf-like Berwick frowns at the map and Maries.

“We are, now,” cat-like Furno smiles with a nod at the map and Maries.

Rat-like Dihe Mistress Knell smirks at the High Dihe Mistress only. “We do not know this to be true, Maries. You are extrapolating information based on a couple of dusty bannies inside a musky smelly cold hidden cave with a few stray rogue weaken and old body part that may not be a Vilo warrior.”

“They are real.” Zebra-like Dihe Mistress Thane turns and sneers at the nose profile of Knell.

Bee-like Siryon frowns to Maries. “They are not really verified. We have contacted and explored every Dihe outpost within Intragalaxy for any more flying fiery objects, since the Vilo does not exist.”

“They do so exist as imposters, posers, and pretenders of the Dihe tribe. They are among us as we meet and chat. They are located here on Mercian,” says Maries.

Human-kind Nimtarts sits in the rear of the room and holds the hand of Voxi, leaning over with a whisper and a smile into furry cheekbone. “I enjoy watching mature dumblings spit and drool at each other.”

Bird-like Yachats sits between Cherwell and Moro and softly laughs at silly adult Dihe. “Where’s the buttered popcorn?”

Rat-like Moro turns and frowns at the nose profile of Yachats. “What is popped corn?”

Yachats turns and smiles at Moro. “An old Dihe expression from way back, before my birth.”

“We’re chasing tails, another old fashioned Dihe expression.” Moro turns and sniggers at the map and Maries.

“You should know, mole-face, another old flavored Dihe insult,” wolf-like Cherwell turns with a chuckle and winks at Nimtarts.

“I think we got a tattle-tail and a mole-face. Geez, I don’t think we should allow the children to play inside the saucer ship for our next adventure trip, darling.” Nimtarts turns and winks at Voxi, playing with her fingers for fun and love.

“Hush up, Nimtarts.” Moro stares ahead with a frown with fury at the map and Maries.

“Don’t wolves eat rats?” Nimtarts turns with a smile and winks at wolf-like Cherwell.

Cherwell stares ahead with a smile and a nod, rubbing both hands, licking the lips. “Delicious, doll!” The other teenlings laugh with her.

Adult Dihe Mistress rat-like Knell stares and smirks at Maries. “I agree with you. Furno is to be congratulated on this quick thinking action, but the Vilo does not exist within Intragalaxy.”

Adult zebra-like Thane shakes a mane side to side with a worried brow to the map and Maries. “They do and my daughters are in danger. The young Primelings are in danger along with our teenlings, too.”

“We are all in danger,” a sissy voice echoes inside the noisy room. All eyeballs twist toward the open archway to see first Governor Yamhill. He stands with his wife second Governor Repal inside the door with a worried brow. Yamhill is a ferret-like Mustela species with a body of white and tan fur, a pair of pink eyeballs, a pair of black mitts and a pair of white feet. The species-like possess a set of long fingernails and toenails and a smelly musky body odor. He is eight feet tall and weighs 380 pounds, very heavy.

His wife second governor Repal is expecting the second kit, ruling the Establishment with her husband. Their only daughter is not talented in Touch but the un-born kitten exhibits ejon talent by Touch minding with her mom on a daily basis.

The ferret-like species is very curious and likes to investigate everything, including the socially isolated Dihe tribe that exists peacefully on Mercian inside a private outpost. The Mustela-species are very social with cats, lions and the other species but tend to reactive violently around birds, rats, and snakes. The Mustela species are susceptible to the harsh and enclosed artificial dust and particles inside a building, making it hard for them to breathe. To combat the sniffles and sneezes, Yamhill constantly wears a flower that is attached to his business suite, inhaling the sweet odor and all the natural enzymes that clean out both encrusted eye sockets and both green nasal discharge from the flat nose holes. They also possess a set of poor teeth, requiring good dental care to battle against constant cavities and excessive green plaque between the gums and bones due to the craving of huge amounts mower steaks with a fast body metabolism.

Nimtarts reaches and rattles the loose shives that are hidden inside the vest, tinkling the sound inside the quiet room.

Yamhill grits a set of green tartar built-up sharp teeth, nipping the air for comfort from the disturbing noise into his sensitive ear holes.

Nimtarts chuckles with the funny scene of Yamhill. Voxi releases her hand and pops his kneecap. He chuckles and leans over with a light peck of a kiss on her cheekbone, grinning with mischief.

Maries turns to the side and moves away from the wall map with a smile, extending both hands to greet Yamhill and Repal with a nod. “We are so honored with your presence. Please enter, Governors.”

“Yeah, now, probe my…yeah,” Furno turns and frowns with frustration at Yamhill and Repal.

“Hush, Furno.” Ginnita reaches down and pops his kneecap. He reaches up and settles both mitts on her arm with a chuckle and a smile of love and fun.

Yamhill grits the teeth for a nice friendly grin to Maries, shaking both her hands and releases them, waving both mitts around the room with a nod. “Thank you, High Dihe Mistress Maries. Is this your official command center, Maries?”

Maries grins with a nod. “This is a simple place inside the EDU center for discussing interior ideas and solving internal problems. However, we are under an extreme emergency at the moment, so this is classified as the Dihe command center. Correct, Womack?”

“As you say, Maries,” Womack stares with a stern face at Maries and Yamhill.

Ferret-like Yamhill smiles with a nod to Maries, “Please forgive our straightforwardness, Maries. But there were not a set of Dihe guards posted outside the entranceway. I assumed this was an outpost similar to the general format of a fortress, home of the Dihe tribe living on Mercian.”

Furno turns and chuckles at the nose profile of his wife. “We defend a fortress. Can we move to a nice place like Koorskis, Ginnita?”

Ginnita eye rolls and reaches down, slapping his kneecap, staring at Yamhill and Maries, “Hush, Furno.”

Repal and Yamhill move and sit down inside a pair of pre-offered empty chair at the table near the clear box. Each one turns and frowns at the sliced human foot. Yamhill turns a smile to see Maries. “We all received the official final report from your Dihe scout teams that are scattered around the Establishment worlds throughout Intragalaxy. We are sorry to hear that dust bannies are not settled once and for all with the Vilo pretenders. This is indeed terrible news for all of Intragalaxy, Dihe Mistress Maries.”

“Fascinating, I didn’t realize that we’re so good. Did you know, Womack?” Koosbay leans over with a whisper and a chuckle into the cheekbone of Womack.

“My Touch clarify must be malfunctioning, Koos?” Womack softly chuckles and stares at Maries and Yamhill.

“Mine, as well,” Zeelee stands on the other side of Womack with a sour frown, staring at Maries and Yamhill.

Yamhill waves a mitt with a smile, “We all have gleamed the official reports from every senator within Intragalaxy with the same precise conclusion. There is an invasion of the nasty posers called the Vilo warriors. Every planet, planetoid, and star system is on alert and ready for the Dihe tribe to interfere…”

“We are not warriors,” wolf-like Berwick frowns at the rear furry skull of Yamhill.

“We are warriors, now,” cat-like Furno frowns at the rear furry skull of Yamhill.

“Every senator from every planet is standing by the camtube for your interference, Dihe Mistress Maries. The long lists includes bird-like first Senator Grossete; bee-like first Senator Qunlan from planet Purpat; wolf-like first Senator Orofin and second Senator Farara from planet Garon; monkey-like first Senator Farara and second Senator Caltang; elephant-like first Senator Torbay and second Senator Nehalam; octopus-like first Senator Typhus from planet Detz…”

“Everyone knows what stick-bird big mouth Grossete looks like. Why does Yamhill bother to include the formal titles with the silly physical descriptions?” Furno frowns with confusion.

“Hush, Furno.” Ginnita reaches down and slaps his kneecap with a puzzled brow, staring at the rear skull of Yamhill.

“There is rat-like first Senator Bitonto and second Senator Acirelae of Gesclide; zebra-like first Senator Viterbo and second Senator Tauke and finally from planet Koorskis, first senator Booskia. He graciously delivers for my dinner on time. Looks to me like your search will be short and sweet, Maries,” Yamhill turns and smiles at the camtube screen, “What is this map?”

Maries turns and smiles at the map. “This is a map of Intragalaxy with the white circles of occupied Establishment territories and orange circles represent the Vilo hot spots,” giggling. “Therefore, our search will be longer. We need to explode all the orange dots…”

“My…” Yamhill drops open a mouth, exposing his fangs. “My universe, we need to send this to all the senators throughout Intragalaxy. The word ‘Dihe’ does mean to defend and protect and ward off evil things and humans and species. Where are Dihe warriors located throughout this map? Where are the Vilo solders located on the map? I need to update the populous…”

“Well…” Maries turns and frowns at Yamhill. “I wished that we could answer that inquire, sir. We can’t locate them.”

Repal turns and smiles at the High Dihe Master. “Womack, you’re the strongest Dihe of the tribe.”

Womack frowns at Repal, “Can’t locate them.”

Repal turns and frowns at the High Dihe Mistress, “Mistress Maries?” Maries shakes her curls with a stern face. Repal smiles with a nod like a good politician. “You seem to have this non-event situation under control, High Dihe Mistress Maries,” she stands and holds both mitts on the collar bone of her husband.

Yamhill stands and cuddles his wife with a stern face and a nod, “My sentiments exactly, High Dihe Mistress Maries.”

Maries smiles with a soft clap. “Yes, we do now with your wonderful contributions of the final official Establishment reports, first Governor Yamhill and second Governor Repal. We can continue with normal Dihe daily operations, instead of wasting precious time running around Intragalaxy.”

Both Repal and Yamhill back step from the table, standing together with a smile to see Maries. Yamhill nods with a grin, “Please, come by for dinner tonight around twenty hours, Mistress Maries. You can inform us about your progression of eliminating all the vicious Vilo soldiers.” Repal smiles with a nod and rubs an expanding abdomen, carrying her newborn kitten in silence.

“It will be my pleasure to dine with both of you, tonight.” Maries smiles and smoothes the vest with a pair of nervous hands. The governors turn and exit the conference room and the building. Maries smoothes down the vest turning with a sour frown and a serious tone to see the Dihe audience, “Using the Intragalaxy map, we will locate and then eliminate all the inhabited territories of the vile and vicious Vilo that are exiting and living within the uncharted space of the galaxy. Then once and forever, we alone will exist within Intragalaxy…”

“What uncharted space, Maries?” Furno laughs with humor. His wife reaches down and slaps his kneecap with a stern face.

The Touch tells him so. “What vile and vicious Vilo, Maries?” Womack frowns with confusion at his wife. Maries might be the suave diplomat, but he is the smooth warrior, especially within this new and non-dangerous mission and a series of unexpected outcomes, where the bad intentions of his wife might affect the entire Dihe tribe throughout Intragalaxy.

The Touch tells her so. Maries presses down the vest with a set of nervous hands with a stern face and a serious tone, “On the map, there are numerous unknown and uncharted locations…”

The Touch tells him so. “Wane,” elephant-like Oxbow points with a smile and a nod at the camtube screen, “I wanna go to Planet X, Maries. The cambeam from the camtube shows an expanding light echo. I have never seen an expanding light echo. What’s an expanding light echo, Zcio?”

The Touch does not tell her so but her instinct to annoy every species-kind and human-like with her words. Rat-like Knell smirks. “Maries, I believe that this little exercise to be a complete waste of my time and Dihe time, regarding first Governor Yamhill’s command that is ordering us to explore Intragalaxy for any additional rouge Vilo which do not exist.”

The Touch tells her so. “I agree with Maries. There are unknown and uncharted and unnamed hot spots of vile and vicious Vilo warriors, who need to go, leaving us alone within Intragalaxy,” zebra-like Thane nods with a fake smile of worry, staring at the map.

The Touch does not tell her anything but annoying Maries for fun. “I agree with my husband that there are rogue Vilo here within Intragalaxy, Maries,” rat-like Knell smirks at Maries, disagreeing to disagreeing for terror and tickles.

The Touch tells him so. “I don’t agree, regarding anything with Yamhill,” monkey-like Cullom smiles.

The Touch tells her so. Wolf-like Porrett nods with a smile. “We send out scout patrols that will be paired with first and second Primes and their respective master and mistress. That would be the safest and prudent flying course for exploding any uncharted and unknown planet, planetoid, and star. We go as a family unit for learning and knowledge,” she reaches over and pats the arm of her husband with a smile and a nod to Maries.

“I do love heroic brave voluntarily feats of stupidity.” Furno crossed both mitts with a grin and a chuckle. His wife reaches over and slaps his kneecap with a sour frown, staring at Maries.

“Zip it, furball,” elephant-like Oxbow turns and chuckles at the nose profile of his bud Furno.

The Touch does not tell her, not selfishness greed. “I’m not going on this Dihe mission, so you know, too, Maries,” zebra-like Thane frowns the map and Maries, “I feel that the other Dihe are more qualified to explore the uncharted space, while I take care of my two daughters. I am after all a single mother,” grinning.

Bee-like Zcio turns and smiles at each face, “How many Dihe wants to go exploring un-charted and un-named planetoids? Every hand, limb, paw, mitt, or appendage lift up and hold there in the air for a visual counting.” He chuckles with the other, seeing the limbs for the mission.

Maries exhales with a puff of annoyance and presses down the vest with a pair of sweaty hands with a stern face and a serious tone. “Attention! Please, may I have your attention? I can see that the dreadful executive decision falls to me, once again. We will send out a family scout team to each planet, planetoid, and star…”

Furno laughs with a nod at Maries, “Lucky, toars.”

Berwick looks down with a smile and taps on his personal portal camtube for information. “Planet YY25 is a biting icy gas of concentrated thermonuclear fusion. We want to go there first…”

Oxbow nods with a stern face at the map. “That is called a protostar for the astronomically challenged Primes, so buy a new radiation pressures suit for the family unit.”

Berwick looks back over a collar bone with a smile to see his children in silence. Each one stands with a smile and a cheer. His daughter Cherwell sits back down and turns with a grin to see the nose profile of Nimtarts, who doesn’t have a family unit that travels as Dihe. “I’m going to see a protostar…”

“Lucky, noob,” Nimtarts frowns with annoyance at the map.

Monkey-like Idanha points down with a smile to her personal camtube. “Planet ZZ13 is a world with a revolving perihelion comet. I will love to see a beautiful comet up close and personal…”

“Buy new sun visors,” chuckles Oxbow.

Bee-like Siryon jabs a finger at the map with a smile, “I wanna go there. Planet P is a small sub-star dwarf that is composed of looming rain dusts of brown hydrogen.”

Oxbow nods with a chuckle at the map. “I’ll bring a couple of rain coats.”

“Planet R is a cold quasar. It’s actually registered as an asteroid with no heat or light source. Zeelee and I will take newly promoted Dihe Master Nimtarts with us for our fight and might.” He turns and winks at the young Dihe Master. Nimtarts half-way stands and wiggles his hips, sitting down and fist bumps with his best bud Tarn, since Nimtarts is going on his first official Dihe mission as a fully earned Dihe Master. Koosbay turns and smiles, reaching down and gently rubs the growing belly of Zeelee with their ejon talented daughter.

“Brrrr!” Oxbow laughs at the map.

“Swap with me, Koos.” Furno turns and winks at Koosbay.

“Naw,” Koosbay turns and laughs at Furno.

Furno turns and smiles at his wife, “Sorry, dear, I tried. You heard the stubborn and selfish toar.” Ginnita reaches down and slaps his arm with a distorted frown while looking at the map.

Lion-like Teeger yells with a smile. “Planet A is really a cluster of planets within the Kritar star system which we have known for centuries to be the real Dratux home world. The populous has been dead going on about 29,000 years, now. To completely close and end the rumors of any single rogue Vilo warrior running about and having some vicious fun, I volunteer to scout out Planet A. I’ll take teenling Quimper with me, okay with you, Quimper?” He turns and winks at the teenling on the back wall. The second Prime nods with a smile at Teeger in silence.

Knell frowns with annoyance at Maries. “Who wants to waste their precious Dihe time out there among the shiny stars and unoccupied planetoids, Maries, when the Vilo are running fancy feet loose and free within Intragalaxy?”

Womack turns and frowns at the nose profile of Knell in silence. The rat-like species thrives on rumors, gossip, and disagreements.

Knell turns and smiles at the Dihe couple. “Porrett and Berwick, did you mind wasting your precious Dihe time, too?”

“As long as, my wolf tail isn’t involved, I don’t mind.” Porrett chuckles and bumps the arm of her mate with a smile.

“No body parts are involved, I promise,” Womack nods with a smile.

Oxbow stands and moves toward the map with a smile. “Let’s place each Dihe family unit above each planet, planetoid, or star that has been called, so far, seeing what’s left and who needs a hot spot to fight off the vile and vicious Vilo warriors.” He stops with a chuckle and stands in place, pressing a button. The button marks the white wall with a set of black and orange circles like a piece of art work which will be burned permanently onto the wall paint until re-repaired. He uses a bato and writes each master or mistress name over an uncharted world from his elephant-like non-forgetting memory within his ejon mind.

Maries exhales with a puff of annoyance and presses down the vest with a stern face. “This method is most unusually, but I will accept it. Therefore, each family unit will continue to find a favored hot spot or two until each circle is assigned for the Vilo search. Our time requires immediately attention to the current matter and then coming back here to the Mercian outpost for finishing our Dihe duty to track down the Vilo…”

“…if they really exist within Intragalaxy, Maries,” frowns Knell.

“We’re following Yamhill’s order, Dihe Mistress Knell.” Thane turns and smiles at the nose profile of Knell.

Furno frowns at the map and Maries. “We don’t follow any one’s orders or commands or directions or instructions…”

“We follow any and all orders from Maries,” Thane turns and smiles at Maries.

Maries sidesteps out of the way from the wall map, exhaling with a puff of more annoyance, swinging with a stern face to face the door, moving ahead with a new order. “I’m fetching some beverages for our final discussion before accessing the spinners. I will return shortly,” she exits the room.

Womack slaps the arm of Koosbay with a smile, shifting from the wall and follows behind the back spine of his wife with a sour frown. He turns the wall corner with a shout, “Maries?”

Tarn stands from the chair and turns with a smile, dashing out the room, stopping and stands behind the back spines of his parents with a smile and a nod, “Dad?”

The Touch tells him so. Womack stops and turns with a smile to see his son, “Why so studious, Tarn?”

The Touch tells her so. Maries stops and swings with a smile to see her son. “Which planets did you select, sweetheart?”

Tarn looks down with a stern face to see his personal campad. “By the time I reached Oxbow, there were only three hot spots left that are labeled as ZZZ24, ZZZ25, and ZZZ26. They are located on the extreme eastern end of Intragalaxy. No one wants to travel there. I have found that ZZZ26 has a tiny bit of information on my campad. It’s labeled as Chamme with a partial horizon, showing scattered bits of hot and heated two dwarf stars.”

The Touch tells him so. Womack closes his eyelids with a smile and a nod. “The Touch tells me so, too.”

Tarn looks up with a smile to see Womack, “Dad, can I go with you, too?”

“I welcome your company,” Womack opens his eyelids and smiles at Tarn.

Tarn smiles with glee. “Really, I can join in the hunt for the vile and vicious Vilo savages. That’s wane. But, what about my watcher duty, tomorrow? I have a couple more days with the dumblings…”

“Tarn,” Maries frowns at her son. “I have politely asked you not to reference that ugly phrase toward the young Primelings. Your watcher duty will be delayed until you return from exploding Chamme.”

“Dad, help me, please. I beg for a handout,” he frowns at Womack.

Womack turns and smile at Maries. “Tarn, always obey your mom.”

Tarn turns and nods to his mom.

She reaches over and grabs, hugging her son with a smile, “Take care much, Tarn sweetheart. I love you. Stay close to Womack for your precious protection and safe return back to your home of Mercian and your mother,” she pulls back with a worried brow and a nod.

Womack reaches out and shoves the chest of Tarn from his mom with a smile and a nod. “Go and get the spinner ready for launch, before the space lanes get crowded with the other slow pilots. We’ll be the first to blast out off of Mercian, leading the cockfighting,” chuckling.

Tarn smiles with a nod. “Shore, Dad,” he back steps and turns, dashing down the hallway toward the entrance door.

Maries turns with a worried brow and watches the back spine of her son. Tarn slams the door open and exits the building. Womack spins around to see the archway of the conference room, not seeing any more advancing Dihe from the meeting and turns with a stern face to see Maries. “Since the discovery of dust particles that were composed of the newly dead Vilo inside the Noti cave plus the live action Touch fighting inside the Pit yesterday of numerous falling objects, where one reveals a human foot, you have been mean, rude, and harsh to our loved ones, Maries. I do not understand. The curt news, our combined knowledge of Vilo society, and the future exploration of the uncharted space territories should not have been received with a stunned, surprised or sour response…”

“Yes,” Maries presses down the vest with a smile and a nod. “I am surprised.”

Womack leans with a whisper and a sour frown into her lips. “I don’t understand your actions.”

Maries back steps with a smile and presses down the vest. “I am stunned.”

Womack frowns with confusion. “I still don’t understand your…”

“Womack…” she eye rolls and frowns at him. “You couldn’t possibly understand my emotions or feelings of the exposed events for the past two days, even if you had used the Touch…”

“Well…” Womack leans over with a whisper and a sneer into her cheekbone. “I understand that you are the only Vilo warrior left within Intragalaxy,” he pulls back with a sour face and spins around, moving ahead to the door and away from his wife, exiting the outpost, looking for Tarn.

Definition of Vilo words for the dub Dihe

 

 

Cart: two-seater Doxi craft

 

Coach: Vilo royal craft

 

Doxi: pleasure slave of Vilo

 

Dub: fool

 

Eve: night

 

Hours: flicks

 

Lights: days

 

MEX: machine electronic exchange

 

Minutes: blinks

 

Morn: day

 

Night: shadow

 

Seconds: winks

 

Shade: Dihe Prime

 

Sun: star

 

Trist: worker servants of Vilo society

 

Tun: house

 

Years: moons

Chapter Eleven

Cotana

 

 

Exo-planetoid Ultimedia

Two yellow dwarf stars with yellow soil and brown plants

Cool temperatures with bright light without rain

Two mph winds and fifty percent humidity

Mid-light

Flicks: 10 Blinks: 89 Winks: 128

Tun of Prince Cotana

 

 

Over the yellow soil on top of the green blanket, they laugh.

He tickles her cheekbone and kisses the soft tissue, making her giggle. He tickles her nose and kisses it, making her giggle, again. He tickles her lips and kisses, making her happy. He pulls back with a grin and kisses her neck, hearing.

“Cotana, it is approaching,” Whang is a dwarf-sized life form with a purple colored long ponytail down a back spine, a tone of bright yellow tinted skin with a plump body and a set of crooked teeth. He is a Trist servant, exclusively working for Cotana, coming from the territory of Tillamonk.

The territory of Tillamonk is located at the top of the exo-planetoid of Ultimedia, which is a hot and dry geographical place that receives the continuous heat of twin yellow colored dwarf stars on each side of the western and eastern hemisphere.

Whang was born and orphaned at born on purpose within the territory of Tillamonk. Then, he was given to a noble family and was raised as a servant until the end of his life form. He was adopted and assigned to Lady Alseal and Lord Heboma and their son first Shade Cotana.

However, since Cotana won the Chap, earning the title Prince of Ultimedia, Whang has been moved into the princely palace among some newer charges and changes.

Other changes, the biological father of Cotana was promoted to King Heboma of Ultimedia based on Ultimedia noble society manners. His biological mother is still titled as Lady Alseal, a noble lady second Shade within the Ultimedia society.

The current reigning Queen of Ultimedia is not married to the named king either which is confusing for both infrequent outsiders and non-existence invaders of the Ultimedia system. Her husband is deceased by a strange accident. She had a biological son who died after losing both his princely life and princely title to Cotana inside the Chap.

Whang does not smile, standing his shortness a few feet behind the paired love birds of Cotana and the female.

Cotana is a tall and muscular human teen with a tone of liver tinted skin and a pair of violet eyes. His crème colored shoulder length locks of curly hair flow down over both cheekbones, coming from a parted middle scalp. He currently rests on top of the dark skinned young sexy girl, who is on top of the soft blanket, covering part of the raw yellow dirt of his princely tun.

Tun means house.

Ultimedia is both the name of the exo-planetoid and the center of the Ultimedia Society. The exo-planetoid is too far away from the only solar sun which is located on the opposite side of Intragalaxy. The tiny rays of the yellow sun appear in faint pink strings of hue, because the solar warming light does not reach and then extends throughout the eastern side of the galaxy. Exo-planetoid Ultimedia has two dwarfs sun in the color of yellow which is permanently stationary in place, radiating both warmth and light onto the natives. Thus, the yellow coloring absorbs into both the soil of property and the skin of the people.

Cotana lifts up a face with a sour frown to see the floating coach without any set of hidden or perturbing landing gears.

Coach is a luxury ground ship for the noble elite.

The coach travels over the dirt, not above a nicely paved roadway, just plain yellow dirt, not stirring up colorful whirlwinds, either. Since, the passenger inside the coach uses the Touch to control the weather elements and her ugly hairdo and her uglier face. The coach is a heavy metal object, without engine power, too. Since, the same passenger inside the seat controls the speed of the coach with her arrogance and her vanity.

The orange colored coach is a rounded luxury vehicle which is always driven by a Trist coachman, who turns the circular steering wheel to the left or to the right in the air or over the dirt toward a specific house or place or property for the passenger.

Cotana cannot see with a pair of naked eyeballs based on the distance and angle of the coach. But, he knows that set of exposed long and wide side glass windows show the current nobles of the planet Ultimedia, Queen Marcola and Princess Parra.

He exhales with annoyance and smiles down at the young sexy girl between the arms, leaning down and blows a set of invisible kisses into her eardrum, making her giggle, again. He cuddles her into a chest with a fake smile over the blanket without standing.

The coach stops outside a pair of two ugly and broken yellow earth dried mud gates, guarding the princely property. His residence is a tower of shimmery glass, climbing into the skyline for sixteen stories. His penthouse suite is on the top tier with a swimming pool on the rooftop.

Cotana leans over and lightly kisses her cheekbone, pulling back with a grin and a wink at her. “Whang, please escort my lady Doxi back into her cart.”

Whang exhales with a huff of annoyance, scooting around the tallness of the couple, moving ahead toward the two-seater cart that belongs to the Doxi race which is parked outside the mud gates, too.

The girl is a slave within Ultimedia Society. She is tall with a tone of dark colored skin, a head of long dark colored hair, a queen-sized body that is endowed with a set of large breasts and a set of wide hips, making her lusty and sexy for any noble. The male Doxi are taller with a tone of dark tinted skin, a head of long shoulder length dark colored hair, a king-sized frame with large body parts, making any noble female hot and passionate. The Doxi race is born around the equator of Ultimedia on purpose, making their skin and hair dark colored as they live away from the bright yellow dwarf stars of Ultimedia. The slaves provide enjoyment and fun to the nobles, while the Trist servants perform all the domestic duties for the nobles.

She giggles and wiggles her body parts for fun over the tall prince, before departing from Cotana, and stands, turning and skips on a pair of naked feet over the yellow soil, following behind the short back spine of the Trist servant Whang.

The noble coach halts and hovers in the air, not touching the soil behind the tiny two-seater Doxi cart. The door disappears with a Touch of ejon from the passenger, destroying the matter into nothingness.

Queen Marcola stands six foot plus height inside the life-sized archway of the coach and smoothly Touch glides from the open door, performing a Touch fly through the air waves without touching the yellow soil, her signature walk. Marcola is taller than Cotana with a head of long flowing curly cream colored hair, going down to a fanny. She smiles with white teeth on a face of flawless soft brownish skin with yellow undertones which has rudely been nicknamed by the Doxi slaves as liver-colored. She has a pair of twinkling violet colored irises like all Vilo on a pretty face and a slender body, such like, one being thirty moons.

Moons mean years.

The entire clan of Vilo Shades, ladies, lords, and children look the same in appearance, not manner. Each one possesses a tone of liver colored skin, a head of long flowing curly creamed colored hair, and a pair of bright twinkling violet colored eyeballs. The rays of the yellow dwarf star cause the outer skin to sizzle in bright yellow color for the Trist servant.

The Doxi slaves live in the shading and cooling parts of Ultimedia, where the yellow rays do not touch their soft skin. However, the brown dirt is absorbed into their skin, turning it dark colored.

The Vilo are a different species, if a life form dares to use that term and then spit it into the distorted face of the Vilo, without dying, quickly.

The yellow ray coming down from the twin dwarf stars affects the outer skin with the miles of natural looking dark brown soil. However, the Vilo ejon mixes the two lighted pigments, creating the liver colored skin on every single Toucher. The skin is sorta medium brownish with a pale yellow undertone. Then, the same ejon and light pigment mixture turns the hair roots into creamed coloring on the Toucher, too.

A Vilo Shade is equal in strength and might with a Dihe Prime, possessing the Touch and ejon, too.

Marcola is the queen of Ultimedia for about eighty-six moons ago. No one truly remembered when she was not queen. No one truly gossips, either. Marcola possesses the touch projection talent, allowing her mind to present a false image of her old body within a pair of wandering naked eyeballs, except for a group of extremely outrageous Touchers within the Vilo warriors, a handful at most.

Marcola continues to soar through the air with a fake smile and a fake beauty of thirty moons. Her ankle length green dress is attached to the long dress train. A matching longer cloak flutters in the wind, elegantly soaring like a queen across the yellow soil that does not contain either grass or flowers. She slices a pair of creamed colored eyelashes side to side at the annoying Trist attendees, coming from her queenly coach and his princely tun. She lifts and waves a hand, flinging a set of her ejon green fingernails, using a little Touch slap on each tiny life form.

The dwarf-sized Trist servants swiftly tumble backwards, sideways, and upside down from the soaring shadow of the queen, mumbling and yelping in fear and annoyance at mean and wicked Marcola.

Marcola smirks with a soft giggle without showing an emotion on the fake pretty façade, turning with a fake smile to stare at the prince, who continues to rest over the dirt like a dead animal.

Cotana grins to annoying the queen with great pleasure, rolling sideways onto both knees, standing upright with arrogance and pride. He back steps from the blanket and the advancing flying witch with a smile and a chuckle, moving backward up each entrance step of the tun and stops, standing on the top step with a handsome smirk which is equal to her pretty face.

Marcola halts and hovers over the dirt in front of the front steps, not entering his princely tun, holding regal height. Her Touch projection displays a fake vision of a beautiful woman of thirty moons. In real time, she is approaching her ninety-nine moon which is late middle age for a Vilo human that usually show a face of ugly wrinkles and a body of fatty deposits and age spots.

Cotana fakes a smile, not requiring a bow to the queen of Ultimedia and the highest warrior of the Vilo clan.

Princess Parra stands inside the archway of the queenly coach, exhaling with annoyance over the pomp and stupid circumstances of Marcola’s arrogant Touch entertainment show, playing with the tiny Trist servants. All the ladies and lords plus their individual children of Shades possess the Touch talent which is associated with a particular set of colored ejon fingernails and toenails.

Parra allows Marcola plenty of air space from her person, the coach, the broken twin set of mud gates, and the servants, performing a Touch lift-off and a Touch fly through the air, duplicating the signature flying air walk of Marcola. Parra wears a mid-drift top and an ankle-length skirt with a longer dress train and a longer cloak of deep purple, her princess signature color.

The position of the Vilo princess is rewarded, not earned, not inherited, and not elected.

Each female Vilo Shade at age thirteen moons is offered a chance, participating as a challenger inside the event which is called the Chap.

The word chap means: to break, split or sever your opponent into a blob of purple blood, red guts, pink tissues, and brown bone fragments, the Vilo version. If the Shade wins the Chap event, then the Shade advances into the next stage of a Vilo Shade.

A human-kind starts out as a lowly Shadeling and then fights and defeats a nasty male or female second Shade, using a bato plus the blood of the other Shade, thus becoming a second Shade. If a second Shade is more eager, the Shade fights and defeats another nasty male or female first Shade, using a bato plus the blood of the other Shade, thus becoming a first Shade.

And if a first Shade is very ambitious, the Shade fights and defeats the current reigning princess or prince of Vilo within the next scheduled Chap event.

A Vilo warrior believes death is scheduled, not surprised.

 

 

Two moons ago

 

 

Parra was nervous, blowing foul mouth odor in and out, staying calm and controlled in her first Chap challenge. She was going to win the Chap, as seen by her personal Touch. Shadeling Parra won her first match at the tender age of fifteen moons, becoming a second Shade.

She was not really surprised, since the Touch was her ally, friend, and companion.

The next sequential three victories after defeating, well actually completing the killing requirement in horrible bloody Vilo battle style, the three other stupid female Shades, who had dared to challenge her title princess of Vilo, kept her both alive and still Princess of Ultimedia. She brought honor to her family and the queen, being betrayed…naw…betrothed to Prince Cotana, too.

 

 

Present day and place

Tun of Prince Cotana

Flicks: 11 Blinks: 09 Winks: 007

 

 

Two moons had passed, quickly.

Parra continues to attend the numerous planned and prepared gala balls, events, picnics, dances, and other royal functions and a stray and the annual Chap event. Parra has to maintain her princess position, increasing her strength while decreasing her enemies.

She smirks, stopping beside Marcola, fluttering her princess cloak in the soft breeze, also.

“I would like to remind about your upcoming marriage ceremony in twenty-eight more lights.” Marcola grins. “Does your tun have roaches, making me hover outside in the hot star like one of my pretty song bird in my private zoo, prince?” She grins at Cotana, asking Parra. “How is your Vilo training sessions, progressing with the prince, Parra?”

Lights means days.

Star means a dwarf star or the current sunlight that shines over the exo-planetoid.

Parra smiles to Cotana. “I’m a little rusty, Marcola. But, Cotana is being very helpful, showing me some new techniques, advancing my princess training, in case of an anal assault,” she is equal in both Marcola’s height and nobility. She giggles and winks at Cotana.

Marcola studies Cotana, speaking to Parra. “It’s been a while since your last victory. You must be very rusty inside the Chap.”

Parra turns and sneers at the nose profile of Marcola. “Is there something here that you need to convey to me this warm morn, Queen Marcola?”

Marcola curves a wicked smile, forming over the Touch projection of a set of false white teeth, without speaking. Yet, another false image flashes within the Touch eyeballs of Parra, learning of Marcola’s much talented Touch projection. Marcola says to the prince with a false smile. “Cotana, please forgive me for the being and the bearer of bad news. Parra is being honored on exo-planetoid Chamme for the Festival of Rights…”

Parra drops open a mouth with a gasp and turns to see the nose profile of Marcola, “That’s this light?”

“Within two lights. However, Chamme has an odd set of common protocols, requiring all visitors a dwarf’s quarantine within your star spinner before landing inside their home atmosphere. You must leave this eve for your…” Marcola rolls her eyeballs and stares back at Cotana. “What is it called?”

“Snow, the Snow Arrival.” Cotana smiles at Parra.

Marcola exhales. “Why can’t all the natives of Intragalaxy use all the common and useful Vilo terms instead?”

He chuckles. “Then, conquering minor worlds would not be so much fun as we force them to assimilate our sophisticated culture into their barbaric rituals.”

Marcola sneers. “Do not get me started this morn, Cotana! Your father’s lenient code of new honor for the barbarians is not working,” she doesn’t shake her curls, holding the fake Touch pose within the air waves and the trained eyeballs of two Touchers.

Cotana chuckles with a smile to Parra. “There is still hope, Marcola. We could simply slaughter the uncooperative leaders of Chamme and then impose a strict eve curfew of the humanoids and then capture the rebels for the Chap.”

Marcola reaches out and pats his cheek with the flutter of a wiggling individual Touch finger in the color of green that imitates an air kiss. “We’re so much alike, Cotana. I faithful believe my blood curses through your veins, maybe at the metaphysically level.”

He steps backward with a sneer from her false face, her fake kiss, and her sour air puffs. “Biologically impossible, I am proudly my father’s son and happily unrelated to you, the queen. Parra will be ready to depart within the flick.”

Flick means hour.

Marcola giggles, “Hmm, who is the prince? And who is the king here on our home world of Ultimedia?”

“They are actually the same.” Cotana nods with a grin that indicates her queenly time is finished at his princely tun.

Marcola performs a Touch back step in the air and a slow Touch spin from Cotana, facing the queenly coach, slowly flying over the dirt and through the air, reaching the edge of the archway.

Cotana winks with a smile at Parra. Parra stares with a grin at Cotana, sensing the departure of Marcola inside her queenly coach that is moving away from the princely tun. She walks through the air and steps a shoe onto the solid concrete front porch with a giggle and a wink to him, slowly strolling by shoe toward Cotana.

He back steps and lifts both palms with a worried brow, “We can’t touch, not yet.”

She strolls to him with a grin and a giggle. “So close, my prince! We’re almost marriage, another twenty-eight lights.”

He back steps further away from Parra with a nod and a smile. “I know that, princess, but…” He stops and stands in place, allowing her sweet mint breathe to invade his face. He leans over and gently touches her nose tip, savoring her smell, surrounding with ejon protection for their upcoming royal wedding. Cotana withholds the strong desire to whisper: I love you.

He couldn’t, yet. He was rewarded the title of prince thirty-three lights ago. His small world could change tomorrow within an eyelid from the terror reign of queen Marcola of Ultimedia.

She sweet breathes into his face with a giggle and moves closer with a smile.

He back pedals with a sour frown from her pretty face. “We can’t touch each other. You know that, Parra.”

She reaches out and touches his hands with a giggle and a nod. “I know that, too. Come with me, please, to Chamme…”

“We have discussed, debated, and disputed this pre-wedding arrangement, too many times, Parra. I’m newly rewarded…”

“The leaders didn’t know that datum. They didn’t understand our Ultimedia culture.”

“We aren’t married, yet.”

She pouts. “Twenty-eight lights, so long, too long…”

He nods with a smile. “The flicks of the twenty-eight lights will travel faster than the river of time. I promise, princess.” He reached down and places both her hands over his heart with a wink and a smile.

She exhales with a puff of annoyance and turns with a sour frown to see window of the princely tun. “I can refuse the invitation.”

He taps on her hands with a worried brow. “This is not our plan. Our plan is to rule, our way.”

She turns and smiles at him. “I’ll miss you, Cotana.”

“That pleases me the most, Parra.”

“What about Marcola?”

He frowns with puzzlement. “What about Marcola?”

“I’m leaving you here alone with her. If there is a posed challenge, you know that I would jump into the Chap for you, Cotana.”

He laughs with a nod. “Princess, I am truly honored that you are willing to protect, defend…”

“…save…” She giggles.

He nods. “Save my life. I’m more than capable of handling my queen Marcola, my biological father, and any combination of them and other life forms that they toss at me during your absent of my soul and my heart.”

She pouts with a nod. “I still worry.”

“I’m not worried about you and me. There has been peace within Intragalaxy for eighteen moons, maybe longer. I can’t remember. However, I promise it will be longer, if you and I work together with the rest of the natives of Intragalaxy, until our queen of Ultimedia is…” The Touch tells him so. He turns to see the object and her. “Now, I see that your princess coach has arrive. Please, arrive safe and alive! I will be thinking and sending my warm thoughts of Touch across the lanes, without using the river of time.” He plays with her fingers with a chuckle, staring softly down into her matching violet colored eyes with the sensation of love and support of a future new Ultimedia Society. She giggles. He exhales with a wink. “I will perform my last duty for the light, escorting you to your coach. Then, we can hold hands with each other, until you departure. I love you, princess.”

“I love you, prince.” She performs a Touch lift from the front porch and a Touch hold, slowly flying backward from the front porch of the princely tun with a grin, moving over the yellow soil, again.

Cotana performs a Touch lift from the porch base and a Touch fly over the rough dirt and halts in the air with a Touch hold in front of Parra.

She giggles with a grin. He grunts for fun.

Cotana performs a Touch fly, moving beside her. She performs a Touch spin around to face the coach, moving ahead. He performs a Touch drift beside her.

She extends a hand to him with a giggle. He reaches out and touches her middle with a grin.

Then, they perform a Touch air walk over the yellow soil toward the orange colored coach of Parra.

Chapter Twelve

Womack

 

 

Planet Mercian

Yellow sun with blue sky and white clouds

Spinner station thirteen

Week 44 and day 1 and hours 07 and minutes 17

Cool temperatures with part clouds and sunshine

 

 

Tarn halts and pants from the Touch run, coming from the Dihe Outpost One which is about ten miles.

The spinner station is a long red dirt walking path, showing a set of numerous parked and dead spinners in a long row over one continuous silver tinted metal frame. The metal covers the top of the spinners without an individual separating partition between each ship. The end sides are open, too.

Womack halts without panting from the Touch run, slowly moving ahead over the dirt, stirring up dust bannies with the boot toes. He looks up with a puzzled brow to see the blue sky and exhales with a huff of annoyance. “The heat’s drying, this time of month. I’ve never seen the air, so crisp and dry. The air molecules are actually popping within my sensitive eyesight and hearing of my Touch. Do you hear the sizzling, too, Tarn?” He smiles and stares at the back spine of Tarn and the mischievous teenling behavior, shaking a skull.

Tarn moves to the first spinner and stops, sliding underneath the metal roof for cool shade from the sun and fun amusement from his dad, patting the metal with a grin and a chuckle, “Naw, sorta! Dad, why are all the ships colored in the same tint, ugly metallic silver? Why are all the ships in the design of two smashed together teacup saucers or two small salad plates or two smaller dessert plates? Well, the two saucers kiss each other’s smooth lips.” He turns and dashes away from the first spinner, moving and stops, sliding underneath the rooftop of the second spinner, wiping the dust off and touches the warm metal with a smile. “This old girl is scratched good and ugly, too. Are we taking her out, Dad?”

Womack moves with a smile down the row over the dirt at the excited teenling. “Go down to the end, son! We will take the last spinner in the row, so you can steer down the space river. In case, you happen to take out a pole or two then only the next to last spinner will be damaged, before my Touch saves the rest of our batter and beaten spinner Dihe fleet,” chuckling.

Tarn frowns with annoyance from the insulting comment, leaving the second spinner, dashing down the dirt toward the new ride, kicking up dust, also. He passes and touches each dusty spinner for his silly amusement and his dad’s annoyance with a smile. “This one is really scratched up with a series of ugly dings and a set of uglier scrapped metal fillings,” he shifts in and out each partition, touching each spinner with a smile and a chuckle, “This one is marked up with a set of black scorches. I guess that Cherwell practiced her sailing skills on this spinner,” laughing.

Womack frowns at the back spine of Tarn. First Prime Cherwell is both an excellent pilot and outstanding Toucher. Womack ponders the jealous streak that is brewing inside of the inners of Tarn, regarding another fellowette Prime. He will mentally note to bring up the tart conversation about Cherwell with Tarn at a later time. He will not mention Cherwell while Tarn is steering the spinner, because he wants to live and see the sunshine, tomorrow.

Tarn continues to dash in and out of each partition, patting each spinner like a favored pet, making a useless silly remark about the exterior condition of the ship, dashing toward the end of the row.

Each spinner is colored in the same shade of dull silver with its own unique set of exterior geometric symmetry and some weird decorated rusty or patched scratches. The same dimensions consist of a width of sixty feet, a height of twenty feet, and a transparent clear half-rounded tip on top. A disc-shaped starship sits lazy underneath an individual metal hanger out of the sunlight and inside the heated day.

Womack moves toward the last spinner with a smile. “Part of the piloting is activating the spinner’s door, the exterior shield, and the internal control commands with your personal bato.”

Tarn stops and stands in front of the door of the last spinner, pulling out the bato from a vest pocket. All the Dihe warriors do not display the weapon, during peace time. Intragalaxy is at peace for the past 1,000 years or so. Tarn lifts and waves the sharp wooden tip that emits a narrow stream of white ejon beam at the closed metal door.

The door roughly slides up and then stops.

Tarn frowns with annoyance.

Womack laughs out loud then covers an open mouth with his amusement and Tarn’s annoyance, kicking the dust with a smirk. The old spinners are used most frequently for outer space flight within one of the many Dihe colonies on an hourly basis, creating worn and torn equipment, most frequently.

The old door hiccups and then slides up into the vertical slot on top of the hatchway entrance single door. Then, the ramp swiftly drops down over the dirt, creating a set of dust bannies.

Tarn wipes off the dust from a distorted face and leads up the ramp with a smile and a nod of excitement into a single room.

The room is circular with a set of individual sitting chairs that line against a curved wall for passengers or prisoners. However, the Dihe have not taken an enemy prisoner, since Womack’s solar birth.

This is a traveling spinner, carting both species-kind and human-kind to other planets, stars, or planetoids throughout Intragalaxy.

The pilot console is rounded, holding one chair, watching a circular camtube in the design of a viewer screen window. The viewer screen window is a cool three hundred sixty degrees of active moving picture that shows the midnight black and bright starry outer space. A pilot sees outer space from four different viewpoints that show the front, the rear, and both sideways view of space during the spinner flight. The pilot console is a piece of smooth glass without a protruding sideway lever or an upright stick or a downward gear. This particular spinner runs only on ejon power, coming from a Toucher.

The Toucher uses two hands or two feet or two elbows or two any other dry body parts that can be held over the glass plating.

Tarn recalled during his spinner pilot training last year at sixteen years old. Some of the other teenling Primes flipped out a moist body part, trying to fly the training spinner. The body part got slapped or injured from a nasty metal limb of the droid-teacher.

The glass plate absorbs all the ejon beams and steers the spinner in a set of different geo-directions, including downward down into the soil, if you are a dub newbie Dihe pilot like rat-like Moro.

It was just an example, noob!

Tarn stops and slides down into the single seat, locking the chair with his ejon, reaching over and presses a single button. The button activates the circular panel on the bottom of the spinner. Inside the circular panel, the set of scattered individual ions that surround the spinner, the trees, the soil, the air, and the people, suck in and then charge the circular panel like a batch of dead houseflies. When the panel is charged, the charged ions inside the panel spin in a completed circle, clockwise.

This particular mechanical circular panel does not rotate in a circle or steer the spinner like one of the regular spinners for one of numerous regular persons like a governor of government or a merchant of merchandise within Intragalaxy.

Inside here, the Toucher glides the charged ions inside the circular panel, using the specially designed spinner, traveling over the river of time with the ejon power. And hopefully, the Toucher fore-senses and avoids all the bright red puddles of deadly radiation.

Fore-senses mean sensing a hidden object by the Toucher.

Even in Intragalaxy, radiation is a deadly poison to any species-kind or human-kind, whether touched or absorbed into a chemical or a biological body frame.

Tarn and Womack are the first Dihe warrior team, lifting off from the home world of Mercian for their special exploration assignment by first Governor Yamhill.

Womack unlatches and slides a rolling chair next to Tarn for his safety and Tarn’s annoyance. He locks the rolling wheels in place with the Touch, smiling at the nose profile of Tarn. “The silver tinted natural earth mineral is resistance to the radiation gases and dust clouds of hydrogen. This spinner, like the others, is sixty feet wide, so be very careful, Tarn. Lift and hover for a few seconds, allowing the charged ions to gather and accumulate, before you burn the tree tops, red, and invisible air waves, blue. Then, I get yelled out by first Governor-what-his-name, second Governor-whatever-her-name, and your mom, not in that order.” He chuckles with Tarn.

Tarn shuffles both hands over the glass panel, blocking out his dad’s silly banter and gently lifts the ship from the dirt, creating a dust storm of red but sees the dry landscape through the Touch. He hovers in place within the air waves, allowing more ions to suck in and charge the circular panel.

The more charged ions mean more steering power within the circular panel that zaps a little too painfully back into a pair of naked hands. Tarn doesn’t mind, wanting to boast to both Nimtarts and Cherwell. The extra heated ions will make all his ejon fingernails glow more brightly as proof of his accomplished piloting feat. His Touch electrifies the sucked-in ions with a wild dance, and as his mind sees the invisible ion party.

He shifts both hands forward over the glass plate with a smile. The spinner clears the hanger without incident, purposefully. He shuffles both hands flat over the glass as the spinner swiftly lifts into the skyline, flying away from the metal hangers and the healthy tree limbs.

Womack nods with a grin, “Excellent job, son! You lifted from the dirt and then hovered out of the hanger, without hitting any other metal objects, plurals. When was the last time, you piloted us, somewhere? My old memory’s getting stale, stalled, stuffed.”

The spinner escapes from the gravity pull of planet Mercian and then jumps over black outer space, landing without disturbing the blue ions inside the river of time.

Tarn holds both palms over the glass as the spinner cruises smoothly down the river of time. “A couple of months ago, we visited Koos for a beer run on his home world of Koorskis. Can we stop by there today for a short visit?”

“Naw, son! Keep your mind trained upon our assignment, first.”

“Yes sir.”

Womack leans back into the chair with a grin and a nod, staring at the viewer screen window, seeing the river of time. “You’re doing some good sailing down on the river of time…”

“The curved neon blue ridge running down the center of Intragalaxy is called the space river, Dad.”

Womack nods. “Scientifically, it is called a gravity wave that distorts the fabric of space and time probability with some weird type of physics. Our smart scientists still haven’t figured out the causation, but they continue to try while wasting some serious mind energy, in my opinion. The gravitational wave travels at the speed of 1,200 miles per hour, making the blue ions glitter and gleam, during a sailing. Watch out! Stay away from them red toxic puddles, Tarn. Your ejon will flame in red tint a few space feet, before you spot the red puddle. We see only one spectrum of light. However, we see the red infrared radiation and the blue heat from hundreds of miles along the space river, too, being a Toucher. The regular folks have to rely upon the sharp instrumentation.”

The Touch tells him so. Tarn shuffles both hands to the right over the glass, easily going around the first red radiation puddle and smoothly glides the spinner back into the middle of the river, where the 1,200 mile per hour speed moves slightly faster. “What are we looking for, Dad?”

He exhales and stares at the front viewer window with the Touch.

Tarn is very young to feel all the depth markers, coming from each red radiation puddles. Some of the red puddles are very shallow, barely skimming the blue surface. Within outer space, light travels from one object to another, very swiftly. However, the same light reflects off every signal outer space phenomena, making the object look both distracted and distorted.

Womack exhales. “Your mother believes that there is a possibility, of the probability, of maybe, one single nasty disgusting Vilo life form is living somewhere within the black outer reaches of Intragalaxy.”

He chuckles, “Hmm, Mom might kinda is probably a little bit right, sorta. Humans see only one spectrum of light, so a nasty Vilo warrior could be waving his ugly bato on a different wave length of light, right in front of my whiskers.”

Womack leans over with a smile and a chuckle and gently scraps the whiskers of Tarn. “Your mother asked me to tell you to whack off those nasty disgusting blonde cat whiskers, too.” He sits back inside the chair with a smile, crossing both arms, staring at the viewer window with the river of time.

Tarn glides the spinner down the blue river with both hands and a smile, “Hmm, you like using those two combined particular words today, nasty and disgusting. Naw, my feline likes them.”

“I ain’t touching that one,” Womack chuckles with Tarn.

Tarn stands and removes both hands from the glass. The safety mechanic automatically slowly lowers the spinner down toward the solid surface or the space river. He swing around, batting both hands in the air with a grin and a laugh. “Take that! Take this! See, got rid of the non-vibrant, non-illumining nasty and disgusting Vilo warrior, Dad.”

Womack laughs with a nod, staring at the silly teenling behavior. “Goodbye, Vilo! Increase your speed over 1,200 miles per hour, using your ejon for our destination. The silly entitled planetoid ZZZ24. I wanna be home, before suppertime. We’re having mower steaks, tonight.”

“Yes sir!” Tarn spins around and sits with a nod, replacing both naked palms slightly above the glass plate, not touching the glass, feeling the heat. He flattens both palms onto the glass, feeling the heat increase with a grin. “We’re off!” He flares the white ejon down toward the circular panel through the glass plate, making the charges ions sail faster over the space river.

Womack nods with a grin and unlatches the chair with the Touch. He rolls around the circular console, stopping into front of the recording station and reaches out, touching the camtube screen with one ejon fingernail of the Touch. The recording camtube screen activates in a rows of silver and gray vertical lines without a logo or a flag or a symbol of Dihe. He reaches out and types in the secret math code. The camtube screen displays a tiny exo-planetoid. “Tell me when we reach our first objective, ZZZ24, son?”

 

 

Hours 09 and minutes 09

Spinner ride of Womack and Tarn

Cold and black outer space minus negative 1,000 degrees

Planet ZZZ24

 

 

“Dad, we’re here.” Tarn slows the spinner with both hands and the Touch. The spinner turns and travels down the single narrow outer space lane of sparkling blue ions, parting from the river of time.

The river of time is composed of two separate one directional sailing pathway for a star ship. One flight path sails toward the western side that is the end of the galaxy. A second flight path sails down an eastern direction which is the opposite end of Intragalaxy.

There is a single narrow travel lane of blue ions which is called a river stream that veers off the river of time. The single river stream is used to travel down to a planet, a star, or a planetoid based on some fantastic scientific theory of physics within Intragalaxy.

No scientist can explain the weird phenomena of the river of time but continues to try and fail.

Tarn slowly sails the spinner above the single lane of blue ions and halts in outer space, holding at the edge of the lane. The next dip falls down into the blackness of cold outer space.

A spinner does not orbit around any type of planet or planetoid. Since, a spinner doesn’t have a roaring or moving mechanical engine, only the rotating charged ions. Charged ions do not exist within the blackness of outer space which can be gathered and accumulated for sailing a spinner, only the charged blue ions inside the river of time that performs the motion.

Therefore, a spinner leaps or jumps from the edge of the river stream and then descends or falls like a heavy rock down into the atmosphere of the planet.

So, a spinner pilot betta know the exact landing spot on the surface of the familiar planet.

The spinner hovers on the edge of the river stream and above the planet.

The Touch tells him so. Tarn stares with a puzzled brow into the viewer screen at the foreign landscape. “ZZZ24 appears like a true planet. There’re no dwarf stars for heat or any moons for a fun adventure. Do I land, here, Dad?”

The Touch tells him so. Womack stands from the chair and turns, moving to the rear side of the pilot console that holds the circular viewer window. He leans down into the viewer window with the Touch and surveys the safety of the foreign planetoid. “Yeah, land! And this is going to be a neat trick, son,” chuckling.

Tarn shuffles both hands with a worried brow over the glass plate. The spinner leaps from the river stream. He feels both the hair roots and the feet toes float into the air, too. He uses the Touch to lower both the hair follicles and the boot heels back down onto the metal floor with a stern face.

Womack uses the Touch, standing and holding in place, carefully watching the viewer window for trouble.

The spinner falls faster than an eyelid blink.

Tarn hears the sizzle and the snap of the icy air molecules, coming from the upper cold atmosphere of the world, breaking into a series of heat particles of outer space molecules, burning and melting over the metal of the spinner. He feels the wobble of the ship, hitting the invisible air pressure of the upper stratosphere of the planet ZZZ24 and sees a good landing spot within the Touch and the viewer screen. “Dack, Dad, there’s one single tiny island of pink sand and an ocean of black water, not pretty, either. I gotta land on that tiny spot or eat the water. Does a spinner float?”

Womack back steps from the console and turns, moving and stands with a chuckle over the hair roots of Tarn, in case of trouble. Then he will whip out a bato to save the day. He crosses both arms with a grin and holds his boot toes in place with the Touch. “Spinners do not float when made of four tons of metal, unless you touch the spinner with your ejon and then hover it above the water like surfing the waves. Maybe, we can come back and have some fun, doing that event, one afternoon.”

Tarn does not nod but smile, working both hands over the glass plate, maneuvering the charged ions within the Touch and carefully slows and then lowers the spinner toward the end of the tiny island. “Wane, Dad! That’d be a hoot and howl, too. We could bring Nimtarts and Cherwell.”

He frowns, “Cherwell?”

“Then, me and Nimtarts leaves Cherwell with a bye-bye, an outta here, and all alone with her Touch.”

He exhales. “What is your probe with Cherwell?”

Tarn laughs with a grin, “I don’t wanna probe Cherwell with my Touch or any other dull or sharp tool. She racks me.”

He frowns. “Racks me? Another new teenling word, what does ‘rack me’ translate into, son?”

“Uh, like annoy, but worser! Wane, one tiny island look likes a go for a big landing here.” Tarn shuffles both hands over the flat glass plate. The spinner slows. He levels out the disc in the air, paralleling a few feet about the rough waves of the ocean and roughly glides it across the water, making the spinner wobble slightly side to side. He compensates, rotating both hands to the right and to the left, keeping the spinner from drowning with a smile. “The air is both windy and foggy thick compared to Mercian. I’m slowly down a bit but moving toward the tiny island for a wet landing. I think there is an upcoming rain storm, Dad.”

The Touch tells him so. Womack nods with a tern face. “I agree. Land fast! Let’s survey the island and mark it off our short inventory list.”

Tarn shuffles both hands over the glass as the spinner hovers over the sand. Then, it lands toward the edge of the water and away from the taller solid objects on top of the landscape. “I see statues or something, tall and stationary. I guess that’s good. Statues usually don’t wand weapons or rocks or bloody wounds to my precious body parts.”

Womack laughs. “I guess not. Press the button, again. We need to replenish the disintegrated ions and steal them from the sands, the water, the airs, and the ugly statues.”

Tarn slapped the button with a nod in silence.

The circular panel rotates around and around, sucking in more pure ions and then charges them within the trapped air tube as the flying fuel for a dead weight star spinner.

Tarn stands from the chair as the pilot on his first outer space mission. More importantly, his ejon rays controls the mechanics of the spinner. He swings around and pulls out the bato, aiming the tip of the bato at the closed mechanic door of the spinner, releasing a tiny white wave of ejon and slams into the silver tinted metal with a sizzling sound.

The closed door slides upward and locks in place, holding steady an open door for a fast escape of planet ZZZ24.

 

 

Pink sand and black water

Cold temperatures with an orange glow and no heat

 

 

Tarn leads out the door and over the ramp of the spinner, stomping down on top of a crunchy pink colored sandy soil, narrowing his eyelids at the tall objects of faded pink. Womack follows behind and pulls up beside Tarn, studying the objects, too.

Then, they moved slowly toward a line of solid objects.

“Brrr-it. Cold. No heat. No sun. No nothing!” Tarn nods with a sour frown at each object, holding a bato in one hand, wrapping a free arm around his chest.

“Cover your body with a thickly padded ejon coat for both fun and protection, Tarn!” He turns with a puzzled brow and scans the landscape. His white ejon forms an outside shield over a body, glowing in whiteness next to Tarn. Womack uses the Touch, seeing the real soil and water of planet ZZZ24.

Tarn moves and stops, standing in front of the middle object, turning to see pink sands, the orange sky, and each object with a confused brow. “Tall statues, they are about forty feet high and some ugly folks in dull pink. O, the pink comes from the pink sands. Do you think the natives really were that tall and worn a rounded hat on top of a skull with a great big set of protruded nose holes?”

The Touch tells him so. Womack back steps from the line of tall statues of harden pink sand turns, moving to the edge of the shoreline and studies the water. “Naw, I think it’s a very primitive form of art work. The natives are probably dead or extinct. Well now, we understand why no one lives here. The global waters are full of weird looking colorful fishies and sea mammals. I suspect that the civilization died off or got washed away from the massive amount of water level height and rough presence on planet ZZZ24. The water covers ninety nine point ninety nine percent of the tiny planetoid. It is icy cold and dark dull, getting a tiny slight peek-a-boo of the orange sunlight from our solar sun which is far, far way from here, shining from out there on Mercian.” He turns with a sigh and scans the island. “There are not any Vilo here unless they live underneath the water, possessing some type of newly developed breathing gills like a fishie.”

The Touch tells him so. Tarn reaches out and slams the tall stone statue with both hands when that portion of the statue glows in white ejon. He senses some type of communication, coming from the art work with a puzzled brow, “the statues are each made of cold molded fossilized sand, to boot,” he looks up to see the orange sky, closing the eyelids. “I sense some dead ghosts from yesteryears, too. They walked and lived on the beach shoreline centuries ago. There was a great flood, destroying everything, compliments of a fierce colorful and violent meteorite shower from the direction of…”

“Tarn!” The Touch tells him so. Womack squats down and dunks a hand into the cold water, sensing the life forms with a sour frown. “I feel the weird looking white and purple fish and sea mammals down here, too. I ain’t going swimming into the black water without great fear. If a pack of Vilo warriors did live here, I would fear for each life form instead.” He stands and shakes the water from a hand with a sour frown.

The Touch tells him so. Tarn reaches over and hugs the statue, closing his eyelids with the Touch. “Dad, I sense more of the meteorite shower from the direction of…”

“Tarn!” Womack swings around to face the spinner and dashes ahead with a sour frown. “Let’s go, son. Time for us to leave and visit ZZZ25! So, we see what we might find there next.”

Tarn exhales with a sour frown and opens the eyelids as a young teenling, who is compared to the adult and mature parent. “Dad, I got some more…”

“Tarn!” Womack rushes up the ramp and quickly disappears into the spinner. He links, connects, and Touch minds with Tarn: Let’s go, son! Only you can pilot the spinner with your ejon.

Tarn links, connects, and Touch minds back with Womack: Yes sir.

He dashes into the spinner and lifts, flicking the tip of the bato over a collar bone at the hidden door.

The door lowers and slams shut for outer space travel.

Tarn slides into the pilot chair and places both hands over the glass plate, lifting up the spinner from the pink sands and jumps the ship into the tiny river stream, flying the spinner back over the river of time in silence.

 

 

Spinner ride of Womack and Tarn

Hours 13 and minutes 13

Cold and black outer space minus negative 1,000 degrees

Planet XXX26

 

 

Tarn has locked the rolling chair over the floor with his Touch, sitting around the rounded console, hiding on the opposite side of pilot Womack within the single room of the spinner. He types on the glass plate with a sour frown, using a set of individual letters to form a set of new sentences over the glass without storing the contents. He is working on the homework assignment and unlocks the rolling the chair from the console, tossing both arms into the air with sour frown in frustration, “Dad!” The rolling chair with Tarn slowly drifts away from the console and toward the wall within the slight wobble of the spinner.

Womack sits inside the pilot seat, after unloading his ejon into the command control for the spinner, before leaving planet ZZZ25.

 

 

Planetoid ZZZ25 contained a set of dry gray soil without a single plant, person or a property of object.

 

Tarn had used the Touch again on the soil. He could see and explain that the planet had been bombarded and then destroyed by a vicious colorful meteorite shower, coming from the extreme eastern portion of Intragalaxy, without further causation.

 

Womack acknowledged the true fact with the Touch, feeling vicious angry than subtle relief. He insisted on steering the spinner toward the last planet that was entitled with the silly designation of ZZZ26.

 

 

Inside the spinner, Womack quickly shuffles both hands over the glass plate, sailing over 2,000 miles per hour for planetoid ZZZ26 with the awesome Touch. They have been gone from Mercian for six hours and are both feeling cold from the outer space and air sick from wobbling around each red colored radiation puddle, and hungry from eating up all the limited food supplies.

The rolling chair gently hits the wall. Tarn frowns. “We have two great big fat ugly and tall zeros to report, so far. Dack, my report is going to get laughed at by all the little primees plus the big primees…”

“What report?” Womack concentrates on the front viewer window, scanning further ahead within the space river with the Touch.

“Koos wants each teenling to submit an official Dihe scout report for our term science grade. I might finally get an A-grade for the first time in my entire years at the ECU center.”

“Might finally!” He sails the spinner with a chuckle.

Tarn reaches over and raps both set of knuckles over the wall counter, exhaling with a huff and surveys the room. “Mom ain’t going to be happy. We found nothing but my empty stomach. I hope the next planetoid has some wild cockshut chicks or something edible for my growling tummy.”

“Something!” He sails the spinner with a grin.

Tarn studies the viewer window that shows the forward view of black and starry outer space, exhaling with a huff of boredom. “I don’t know how long and boring and bumpy a ride through Intragalaxy is. I’m ready to go back home, now. We’ve gone for over six hours, now. So, it’s about suppertime, there and here. Dack, once we touchdown and then kick back up some more dry colored dust on planet ZZZ26, we gotta go six or more hours of sail time back down the space river…”

“Space river?” He sails the spinner with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s faster than saying the river of time and it’s faster than sightseeing through the eastern edge of the galaxy.” Tarn exhales and views the dusty floor. “Yeah, it’s the newest subject of my report. The space river is a gravity wave…”

“Don’t put too much ejon energy into your scout report, son. Koos did that so the other dull-minded Primes would actually view the space river and the surrounding outer space heavenly bodies, instead of playing…”

“Dack, you took my campad,” Tarn reaches over and pats each pocket of the vest and the trousers, feeling flatness with a sour frown.

“Correction there, your mother took away your campad. This is a galaxy emergency, not a fun adventure. We are hunting Vilo,” he sails the spinner with a chuckle

Tarn stands from the chair with a sigh of annoyance, turning and paces back and forth over the floor, tossing both arms into air for drama and boredom. “Dack, Dad, Vilo are myths, not mighty like Dihe. And they’re dead and done like the ugly, but colorful dragon-like Dratux species-thingies.”

“Thingies?” He sees a tiny dot of neon green, not informing Tarn and sails the spinner closer to the colored planet that shines against the blackness of outer space.

Tarn reaches the far wall and turns, pacing back and forth, tossing both arms in the air. “Okay, alright, think, I need this great grade to increase the others…”

“The others?” Womack sails the spinner with a chuckle the teen. Tarn is an okay student of academic achievement, since his talents lie within his outstanding Touch.

“The other, ya know the other topics, I can’t report on. Okay, I’ll report on the space river. Yeah, my report will go something like this. The river of time is nicknamed the space river by some of the more elderly older mature adults, because, because, because,” exhaling. “Why do you call the river of time, the space river…”

“It flows in space, son.”

“Yeah, of course, the river of time is nicknamed the space river, being in space, being in outer space, being in black and dark and cold outer space.” Tarn reaches up and scratches the itchy whiskers on a face. “Yeah, that sounds good, almost great. Now, I need more stuff to fill the entire page toward the bottom…”

The tiny dot of neon green turns into three tiny dots of neon green.

Womack sails down the shimmery blue river toward three dots of neon green with a smirk, not informing Tarn with the super surprise of a civilization on the eastern side of Intragalaxy.

Tarn paces back and forth from wall to wall with a confused brow, “The space river sails or maneuvers or flows at 1200 miles per hour or more,” chuckling. “If a person uses his or her Touch…”

The tiny dots of neon green turn into three dwarf stars that surround a single exo-planetoid. The exo-planetoid displays in a set of circular colors of purple that represent the rivers and soil. Womack sails toward the orbiting planet with a smile.

Tarn looks up with a sour frown to see the wall. “After leaving the golden world of glorious Koorskis, home of Atum beer, we…I headed deeply easterly into the other side of Intragalaxy, the mysterious portion of our strange and long galaxy. That sounds good, so far, Wane, I am good for an A plus, now. We encountered a tiny pink sandy and a black watery island and then a dry gray dull continent, almost nearing the end of the galaxy and our terrible trip of outer space. This is so boring. I’m getting the letter B,” he swings around to see the viewer window and drops open a mouth, dashing and slamming both hands onto the console. “Dack, Dad, there’s pretty planet and…”

“Three dwarf stars dominate the screen. We are approaching the planet…”

“Great!” Tarn shoves a body from the console and claps with a smile, dancing over the cool metal floor. “This is my A-plus-plus EDU grade. I’ll take a few photos, highlighting my oral report with Koos…”

“Naw,” Womack stands from the chair and waves both hands at Tarn. The spinner swiftly drops a few feet through outer space and dangerous over the river of time.

Tarn wobbles to the side and slams into the wall with a sour frown and a sissy whine, “Dad!”

Womack sits back down inside the chair with a stern face and balances both hands over the glass plate. The spinner swiftly raises and levels out into a steady flight over the river of time.

“Dad!” Tarn shoves an aching body from the wall with a sour frown, rubbing the pretend bruise with a whining tone.

“Scan for life forms, Tarn!”

Tarn dashes ahead and slams into the console counter with a smile at the viewer screen window. “I am excited and nervous.” He drops open a mouth and jams a finger into the screen. “Dad, I don’t need to scan for life forms. I see many, many flying ships which are piloted by unknown life forms. The flying space crafts are ahead of us right here, displaying upon the viewer window. And they are also disc shaped or saucer shaped like us. Why, Dad? What does all this mean, Dad? How come, Dad? They got saucer like spinners like us.”

Womack smiles, “Let’s join up with the flying pack of spinners and then land. We can inquire with the planetary natives both night and day asking and answering our many guest questions.”

An alto voice says via the built-in hidden speaker box within the spinner of Womack and Tarn. “Welcome to Chamme, star ship spinner. Please follow the sky beacons toward the general hanger port for docking, before entering the shopping mall. There are no docking fees or inspections ever on Chamme. Thank you, shopper! Have a nice dwarfing time.”

Tarn gasps with a laugh at the viewer screen and the vocal message. “Life forms are confirmed, Dad. And the life forms speak our related language, Dad. And the planet is called Chamme, Dad. This is so dack, Dad,” he leans into the viewer window with a grin.

“And we are landing. Sit, son!”

Tarn whips a hand backward and Touch grabs the rolling chair from the wall, stopping it underneath his butthole and sits, locking the chair in place over the floor within the slotted latches for landing on the planet surface. He stares and smiles into the viewer screen. “The planet is purple like the exterior short hair on Moro. Did you know that all Rogentila species have a set of rounded purple dookie packs?”

“Are you writing that into your science report, son?”

Tarn laughed. “I might. Koos would get a good laugh.”

“And he would reward you with the letter D-grade for dookie, Tarn. Your academic classes are very important in learning about all the working environments.”

Tarn stares and smiles at the viewer screen. “I live within boring and snoring Intragalaxy. Dack, Dad, we have actually found a new set of life forms that live on the far side of Intragalaxy. Wane!”

Womack slows the spinner with both hands over the glass plate and leaps the ship down from the river of time, traveling onto the one of the four narrow lanes of sparkling blue ions that lead down toward the land surface of the exo-planetoid. He flies last in a line of spinners and slowly moves closer down to the new world with a worried brow.

Chapter Thirteen

Parra

 

 

Exo-planetoid Chamme

Three green dwarf stars with white sky and white soil and silver buildings

Hours 13 and minutes 33

Late morning afternoon shopping mall setting

Cool temperatures without clouds and rain

 

 

Womack follows the other spinners toward a vertical column of solid material that is shaped like a circle within the air waves.

Each spinner flies and then hovers over the hollow rounded hole within the air waves, dropping down and disappears from the green colored skyline.

He holds the spinner within the air currents and waits for his turn, moving ahead and then drops down into the dark vertical tunnel for parking the ship.

Tarn sits inside the chair for safety, feeling the wobble of the spinner and points with a smile at the screen with excitement. “This is so dack. There are beings here on this new world. Here, on another planet, we found them here. And we found the Vilo, too. Right, Dad?”

“Maybe,” he slowly lowers the spinner, falling down a wide and deep vertical tunnel, keeping five hundred feet between each up and down neighboring spinner. He is careful, not bumping the top of the protruded tip of the descending ship or the bottom of the spinning circle from the descending ship over his hair roots.

Tarn leans over with a sour frown and wipes off the screen with a hand. “So odd, I can’t see anything but white smog or fog or air. O no, the planet’s polluted or poisoned.” He stands from the chair with a worried brow and points at the door. “We should…must leave from here, right now. Get out, now, Dad!”

“An alive and talking life form addressed us to land here on Chamme, son. The life form sounded healthy to me. I believe that it is very safe and sound here on exo-planetoid Chamme. You did a life scan with your Touch, right, Tarn?”

Tarn rolls the eyeballs and stares down at the screen with a sigh. “Yeah, of course, I did.”

“So, you and I find the planet breathable and inhabited. I’m landing. Please sit and strap in, son!”

Womack guides the spinner further down the vertical tunnel of metal, avoiding the horizontal level which is occupied with the other pilots that park an individual space craft also.

Womack floats downward toward the bottom level and then soars forward, parking toward the extreme end of the hanger bay, moving away from the other spinners and the other shoppers. He lands the spinner with a slight thud, removing his hands from the glass plate.

Without the ejon beam for cohesion, the collected charged ions scatter into the air, around other spinners, and into the sky.

The Touch tells him so. Womack unlocks the floor latches and continues to sit, scooting the rolling chair from the pilot console, and spinning around to face the closed hatch door with a grin and without standing.

Tarn slides from the chair, side stepping from the console, dashing forward with a grin to the closed door and stops, standing and bouncing with excitement. “Let’s go, Dad. Open the door, Dad. Your ejon controls the door mechanisms, Dad.”

He continues to sit inside the rolling chair with a grin at the back spine of Tarn.

Tarn wiggles side to side in front of the door, standing in place with a grin. “Open the door, Dad.”

He frowns, “Tarn, do no act like a tourist. This is a mall building where life forms shop for fun and adventure and material stuff…”

“Dad, open the door!” Tarn slides side to side in front of the closed door. His ejon can’t open the door. Well, it can, if he was allowed to blast it a permanent opening with a bato weapon. And then his dad would blast his hide. “Dad, open the door. I promise that’ll be…act like a good citizen. Okay, open the door!”

He stands with a smile and moves ahead toward the door, wiggling a set of fingers and the bato at closed door.

A Dihe male dresses in a pair of comfortable trousers and a pair of knee boots, any color. The trousers are paired with a long sleeved shirt and a leather vest, any color. The vest holds and hides many Dihe tools, including the bato. The bato is usually hidden inside the leather vest of the Prime, since Intragalaxy thrives in an atmosphere of peace and prosperity. The last intragalactic war was 29,000 years ago.

The door parts and slides upward and then stops. Then, it coughs, sliding upward into the slot, revealing the new landscape.

Tarn skips through the door and stops short of the rolling ramp with a gasp at the structure. “Dack, the hanger bay is made of solid golden colored metal. No windows. No opening for breathing.” He coughs and gags, clutching a throat, talking funny. “I can’t breathe, Dad.”

Womack emerges from the doorway, scanning the hanger section for activity. There are not any other parked spinners or strolling shoppers at this end of the hanger bay. He runs into the back spine of Tarn, grabbing the arm of the teenling with a sour frown and drags them toward an opened single exit entrance door that leads outdoors onto the grounds of Chamme. He whispers into the eardrum of Tarn. “Do not act like a tourist, son! You have been here before as a shopper, maybe once or twice. So, act bored with the surrounding scenery, without calling attention to us, foreigners. Understand?”

Tarn exhales and coughs from the violent impact of his dad slam. “I can breathe, now. Thanks, Dad!” He stumbles over the smooth soil with a gasp, squatting and studying the soil.

Womack leaves Tarn and moves toward the single exit entrance opening and stops, standing slightly behind the archway, observing any strolling shoppers. Then, he stands inside the archway, darting his eyelids to the right and to the left. He uses the Touch and scans the far away building and the manicured landscape. He finds no other parked spinners or strolling shoppers, either.

Womack swings around with a nod in silence. This end of the hanger bay is empty, since is it too far away from the mall merchandise.

Tarn points with a smile down to the ground. “Dack, Dad, the soil is colored in white. But, the dwarf star is green. Why ain’t the air green from the dwarf stars like the other normal dwarf stars? Why’s the air tinted in whiteness? Don’t know! Wished Nimtarts was here, too. He would know for shore,” he reaches down and scoops up the soft dirt with a gasp. “The dirt, it’s really purple colored, not white,” he drops the dirt with a gasp. “The dirt turned white, not purple. Why, Dad?” He scoops up the white soil as it turns purple inside the palm. He gasps with a whisper. “My ejon turns it purple, not white. Dack, I’m a god, here,” he smiles with a nod and pockets the white soil for a souvenir with a chuckle, “Wait until Cherwell finds out too.”

Womack frowns and dashes to Tarn, bending down and grabs the boy by the arm, pulling Tarn into a chest with a whisper. “Do not act like a tourist, son. We are normal shopping inside a normal shopping mall on normal Chamme. Understand?” He swings around and marches them from the hanger bay and outside toward the shopping mall.

Tarn moves with his dad and looks down with a smile at the soil. “It is all white-looking when I walk. O, I wear boots. Yeah, that’s right. So, the soil is white colored. Since, my ejon is not touching the soil. I made the white soil turn purple colored with my ejon, Dad. I’m a god…goodness…” he drops open a mouth, lifting a finger and points at the weird sky of three green dwarf stars and the row of numerous pretty structures.

Womack slowly moves them toward the tallest structure. A group of shoppers huddles in that direction and enters inside a single door that is cloaked in darkness. He whispers into the eardrum of Tarn. “Do not act like a tourist, son.”

Tarn smiles with a nod. “Dack, Dad, the soil is colored in white. But, the dwarf stars are in green. The hanger bay is made of solid gold metal. All the structures both short and tall are enclosed and made of pretty golden tinted metal, not dark brown colored wood or colored concrete tiles and no windows. Why, Dad? I don’t understand.”

He exhales with a huff of annoyance and drags Tarn toward the tallest structure of gold. “Don’t know, either, son.”

Tarn points with a free hand and a smile at the object. Womack holds the other arm of Tarn as a hostage into a chest. Tarn frowns. “I don’t see any glass windows or openings for any open window. How can they breathe without windows or creaks into the metal? I don’t see a single balcony or a front porch or a rear patio or an eyeball opening. Dack, every single structure grows from the white soil then straight up into the sky, built like…like a metal cylinder with no windows. There’s not a window, anywhere. How come we didn’t die from the spinner fumes inside that enclosed hanger bay?” He looks back over a collar bone to see the tall structure of gold without windows, too.

“A spinner uses the naturally charged ions, coming from the land, the air, and your bad breathe, son.” He chuckles. “The spinners don’t use poisonous toxin fumes like constructing our dwelling houses and structure buildings on our home world of Mercian.”

Tarn continues to move with his dad and swings a face around with a smile to see the tallest structure and scan the landscape. “O yeah, I forgot for a moment. I’m too…too overwhelmed with the foggy whiteness, golden gold-ness, and puke greenness that all made up of Chamme,” he gasps then sniffs with a confused brow. “The air is tinted in tiny foggy white molecules. I don’t smell anything toxin either, except everything is foggy white to my naked eyeballs. This is so dack. I see so clearly. The dwarf sun is really green. The dirt is really purple. But here on Chamme, the green and purple produce whiteness. Naw, not right, the combined colors of green and purple produces blackness. Why, Dad?”

He drags Tarn with a smile toward the furthest single entrance door. There are numerous single entrance doors on the building. The single entrance door is located at the bottom of the tall golden colored building. He whispers to Tarn. “Yes, you are correct, Tarn. The painted colors of purple and green produce the dull color of black, showing upon any bedroom wall or physical material surface. However, your naked eyeballs view floating and fluttering lights, not colors. A single pigment of two or more lights is always blended together. Paired or triple or many lights of colors are not necessarily blended into a predictable single lighted color like a solid wall of paint. Some of the strong or weak colors are neutralized by the absorption process of the numerous lights, losing one or more colors in the final combination of two or more lights. The light wave of the dwarf star is green. The light wave of the soil is purple. The single pigment remaining after absorption and loss is the color of white like shown here on Chamme. You can see the purple color for soil due to your ejon ray within your fingernails, flowing over your physical body. The natives of Chamme see only the whiteness over the soil, the trees, the plants, the grass, the flowers…”

“No. Then there ain’t no Vilo here on Chamme, right, Dad?”

“I agree with you double negative statement, son! But I would like to confirm that proposed hypothesis. We’re going into the shopping mall, now. If there are Vilo here, we’ll find them inside.”

Tarn laughs. “Shopping?” He turns with a gasp to see the shirt on Womack. “Your colored clothes are shown to my eyeballs as a pure white color,” he struggles and pulls away from his dad, moving beside Womack, studying the clothes. “You and I are both whiteness, too. You have a sheer of white glow over your colored clothes like…like a shield or something.”

Womack moves first into the open single archway which is made of golden metal with a grin. “I am at that.” He scoots inside the carriage which is empty of any other shoppers.

Tarn enters into the dark carriage, swinging around to see the side wall and closes his eyelids, reaching out and touches the solid metal golden wall with a set of ejon fingernails. He opens his eyelids to see the wall with a confused brow. “I’m not getting any color change. This is truly metal. No change from my ejon, Dad. The carriage is slick metal without windows.”

The door smoothly glides shut.

Tarn and Womack stand inside the darkness. Then, the carriage smoothly lifts from the ground, moving up the solid golden wall.

Tarn closes his eyelids, probing the wall for any effect of his ejon.

Womack stands and faces the forward wall of solid gold, feeling the lift of the elevator inside the darkness. His Touch probes beyond the wall, not alerting with danger, either. He shakes a skull with a confused brow and stares at the solid wall of gold.

Then the forward wall turns into a glass viewing window, emitting bright light and fluid colorful action. The glass window rises up toward the rest of the structure, exposing the most colorful scenery of numerous roaming life forms plus tons of exposed colorful merchandise inside the shopping mall.

Womack gasps with a grin of surprise and then chuckles, watching his son.

Tarn moves closes and hug the wall with all ejon fingernails, missing the subtle change inside the elevator carriage of the new scene. He continues to Touch mind on the solid wall with both hands open his eyelids. “I don’t see my ejon affect the metal. It is golden metal on the rear wall behind your butt, too, Dad! I don’t feel any ejon changes. I still probing, moving over to the next wall. This is so dack. I got plenty of new and weird-o information for my science report to Koos. I’ll get an A-plus plus for shore.”

Womack moves ahead with a chuckle and stands so close to the clean glass window that he breathes on the glass with a smile, staring down at the mall space. The shopping mall is 506 levels high into the white sky as the elevator continues to climb toward the 506th level. He realizes too late that the Chamme natives and visiting guests must possess some type of finger pad touch sensitivity that reacts on the golden tinted metal which commands the inner elevator carriage to stop at a specific shopping floor level. Since, the elevator carriage is not stopping or has not halted at any specific shopping level to drop off or pick up shoppers.

Tarn continues to Touch mind probe the side wall, pressing all fingernails and a nose tip into the golden metal. “I don’t feel any change but the raise of the carriage going up and up. I bet the elevator might touch the skyline, eventually. Then, I will face the Chamme life forms being and hopefully not be enticed into a war, using my bato,” laughing.

Womack looks back over a collar bone with a smile and a chuckle at his son.

Tarn is kissing the wall with a face, missing the delightful colored environment down below at the elevator carriage as the carriage continued to fly upward to the highest level inside the shopping mall.

Then, the carriage stops with a violent jolt.

His Touch tells him so. His nose tip hits the metal, smashing the skin with pain. Tarn shoves a body with a sneer from the wall, “Dack,” he frowns with pain and annoyance, swinging around with a gasp, holding the aching nose and points at the new landscape. “Dad, look! There’s a glass window, now. We…we have reached the top of the structure. I see an empty hallway.” He stomps ahead to the glass window. The elevator carriage dings with a tiny musical note and smoothly drops back down toward the ground. Tarn wobbles side to side from surprise motion, stumbling toward the glass window with a gasp, leaning the non-broken nose tip, breathing onto the glass window of the elevator and stares at the passing floor, “Dad!”

“Don’t act like a tourist, son.” Womack stares with a sour frown at the same scene of numerous empty hallways as the carriage smoothly falls and passes each level.

Tarn gasps at each level. “I see more empty hallways. Wait, I see moving upright beings. The moving upright beings have two arms, two legs, one head, and are colored in neon puke green skin. I see green colored beings, rushing inside the hallways. Don’t get it? Why ain’t the human-kind whiteness?”

Womack smiles at the natives inside the hallways. “They are not light, but matter, son.”

“O yeah, their outer skin flesh absorbs the light from the dwarf sun, making them greenies. I hope they ain’t meanies,” he chuckles.

The Touch tells him so. Womack narrows his eyelids and probes deeper within each hidden hallway for danger and curiosity. “These are both sleeping and entertainment units. I am guessing, here. The shopping mall also houses sleeping units for outside space travelers like us, coming from other nearby exo-planetoids. Tarn, use a tiny Dihe Touch projection and cover your face and both hands, making them green colored, too. We don’t wanna stand out among the natives, here.”

He stares with a gasp at the green beings inside each hallway. “There…there really are other planets out here on the eastern side of the galaxy, this far out from Mercian. Okay, Dad!” He closes his eyelids and reaches over, pulling out the bato. He lifts the bato up and above the top of his blonde colored hair roots, sending a white ray of ejon, covering the face and both hands. He opens his eyelids and stares down at a pair of naked hands in green, sorta. “Ugh, puke green vomit like Nimtarts’…”

“Thanks, Tarn!” Womack chuckles with a nod and performed the same bato trick, morphing into a puke green life form, too. “We are not the only life forms inside Intragalaxy, Tarn. But now, we match of one the newest unknown, but known-now species-kind.” He looks down with a smile to see a pair of green hands and turns to stare at the nose profile of Tarn’s new green features.

Tarn stares with a smile and a nod at the green beings. “I know that. I proved that here on Chamme. And I am one, now. You called this a shopping mall. I see only hallways of emptiness or shuffling green beings, like but not true me, who go somewhere. Where do they go? Why is it called a shopping mall?”

Womack smiled and stared out the glass window at the green natives. “The alto voice which guided us toward the hanger bay welcomed us as shoppers. Thus, a shopper visits a shopping mall for shopping, son.”

The next hallway passageway disappears. Then, the glass window shows the interior of the shopping mall, displaying an array of vendor stores, eating diners, and a giant water foundation.

“This ain’t no…” Tarn gasps, “Dad, I see stuff, tons of merchandise stuff. I see hundreds, thousands, millions of walking around green colored beings. This is a shopping mall. Dack, I see color, too. The floor is colored in smooth purple mud, coming from the true color of the true soil on Chamme. The walls…walls are covered with millions of pieces of merchandise, coming from all the vendor stores. And I see colored merchandise, not whiteness. Why, Dad?”

The elevator carriage slows then stops, opening with a tiny dink of a musical note.

Tarn dashes with a grin outside the elevator door and stops, standing on the floor, swinging around in circle and points with a smile at all the different stores. “Dack, there’s about one…two hundred different elevator carriages like the one that we just exited.”

Womack exhales with a huff of annoyance and dashes from the carriage, running into the buttonhole of Tarn, cuddling him into a chest with a whisper.” Don’t act like a tourist, son. Let’s go inside the mall, walk around, and observe the culture and the life forms. Do not act like a tourist.”

“Okay, Dad! I won’t. I promise,” he struggles for freedom and slowly moves ahead of his father Womack, dropping open a mouth, staring at each store. All the front doors of the vendor stores form a rounded circle, encompassing the outer walls of the shopping mall. He stops and swings around to see the closest shopping store, looking down with a grin at the floor. On the purple floor, the name of the vendor is etched into the mud. I whispers, “Enu’s Rugs,” he looks up with a smile to see the merchandise inside the store.

The store comprises hundred floors or more with an array of silly geometric shaped cut out windows within each solid wall on each floor. The walls of the store lead straight up into a new wall. Then, the new wall above the top level of Enu’s Rugs shows a set of glass windows.

The ground level floor of Enu’s Rugs is a wide entrance archway without a door. Along each side of the archway, there is a set of walking stairs. The side steps lead into the second level, the third level, and then more levels, going straight up to the top level of the store, also.

The tiny, medium, large, extra-large merchandise of colorful rugs freely hang from the archway frame, the walking steps, the cut-out open windows, the solid part of the walls, and rest across an assortment of tables, chairs, chests, and book shelves.

Tarn lifts a boot toe with a chuckle and prepares to stomp across the etched vendor name.

Womack reaches out and captures Tarn by the arm, pulling both of them away from the store, turning and moves ahead, whispering into the eardrum of Tarn. “We have more sightseeing to do and collection of more secret Chamme information. It appears two thirds of the shopping mall is a sleeping unit that is located above the amphitheater of stores for ease of shopping and easy access of location.”

He nods with a chuckle and stares at the other stores, “O yeah! Let’s see, so far. We can report in colorful details. The tallest building, within Intragalaxy, is made of golden tinted metal. The longest floor, within Intragalaxy, is made from hard dried mud, really pretty in purple color, too. The other life forms, living within Intragalaxy, are tall, short, thin, or large like some of folks on Mercian. And, all are humanoid-like, walking upright around alone or in groups like a family unit, too. Most of the humanoids are inside the structure that is called a shopping mall. Since, we didn’t see any greenies outside during our escape from our spinner,” he halts with a chuckle and points at the next store. The store comprises over two hundred floors, showing a set of occupied eating tables with chairs with an assortment of eating humanoids. He smells the food and as, his stomach growls. “Food, Dad!”

The Touch tells him so. Womack hugs Tarn into a chest for safety and protection from the unknown humanoids with a whisper. “Do not pull your bato. Do not speak. Do not engage any other life form. Just observe. Record every detail with both your eyes and your senses. We will stay for ten more minutes, viewing the life forms and then leave. We report back…”

“Mom.” Tarn turns and scans the entire layout of the building with both his eyeballs and his neurons. “She’s going to be so happy that we found…”

“…another planet of human-kind. Just observe, quietly.”

“Okay.”

“Silence.”

Tarn moves besides Womack and stares at the overcrowded avenue of crying babies, running children, whispering teenlings, shopping adults, and eating elderly life forms like a shopping mall on his home world of Mercian. He stops and reached out for the pretty object with a smile.

Womack reaches out and grabs Tarn by the arm, cuddling with a whisper. “Do not touch the merchandise!”

“We have…”

“…not the equal of payment for the merchandise. This would show us different from the natives.”

Tarn slaps the hand back into a chest with a whisper and moves ahead with Womack. “Right, Dad! Okay, I see a repeating pattern, here. There are millions of stores that are contained within the rounded walls of the mall. Every piece of merchandise bleeds over the tables, puddles onto the floor, hangs from the archway, consisting of clothing, shoes, furnishings, furniture, linens, food, meats, and other numerous items, that I will not recant here, now. The wall sections are logically divided, too. The home and living merchandise is on my left side. The food items are in the center walls. The left walls include heavier pieces of merchandise, like robots and appliances. And there’s a nice big water foundation in the middle of the shopping mall which could be a swimming pool for me and Nimtarts,” he passes the table with a smile and a whisper. “Dad, this stuff is nice. I mean, very nice. The linens are pretty colors and decorated with cute soft colored flowers. Mom would…”

“…not approve.” Womack drags Tarn away from the store with a whisper. “I agree the merchandise is lovely.”

He turns and stares at each merchandise item with a grin and a whisper. “My feline best blossom would like. I wished that I could get something for…” His Touch tells him so. Tarn stops and scans the crowd of green beings. “Where’s the…”

“…not here.”

The two tall males come up from behind the back spine of Tarn and shove Tarn sideways toward the archway of the next shop, moving swiftly through the assumed foot path with a grunt.

Tarn separates from Womack with a gasp and rushes sideway toward a nice table of tall merchandise and performs a Touch halt of the running motion with a sneer of fury. He spins around with a growl at the violent movement of the two noobs, preparing for a personal thank you and reaches over, grabbing the handle of the bato which is secretly hidden inside the Dihe vest with a green hand, seeing a set of prissing fannies that are moving away from the store.

The Touch tells him so. Womack gasps with shock and rushes to Tarn, wrapping both arms around the boy with a soft whisper. “Calm, son!” He back steps and moves both of them away from the merchandise and near the wall of the store.

More of shoppers shuffle and escape from a row of roaming guards also, standing near the store entrance archway or the wooden stationing climbing stairs.

The drums bong with a set of loud musical tones, announcing the parade of numerous alive and breathing bodies, coming from the numerous open elevator carriages.

The first row leads with a single female. She is tall with a head of waist length crème colored hair, a tone of liver colored skin, wearing a purple colored ankle-length gown with a pair of heeled sandals and a set of glowing fingernails and toenails with a bato.

Tarn turns and scans the obnoxious noise, dropping open a mouth at the solo girl with a gasp in surprise. His heart races while rapidly breathing. His hands sweat while swiftly wiggling. He whispers for his eardrums only. “She’s beautiful.”

The parade ends at the first brick of the water foundation inside the floor of the open mall gallery. The princess, in front, stands still and etched like a granite statue, a beautiful statue.

“A Vilo princess,” One of the natives of exo-planetoid Chamme softly says beside the right eardrum of Tarn.

Tarn whispers with a grin for his eardrums only, “A beautiful princess!”

The princess wears no crown usually marking a royal person or no headdress making her importance which is known only to the natives of exo-planetoid Chamme. She doesn’t need it. Her white hair is parted down the middle, rippling in waves of curls, falling down in layered tiers beyond her waist and tickles her fingers.

His eyeballs follow her body, starting up at her hair roots and going down with a gasp, “Her hands!”

The princess possesses a set of long thin fingers like an artist. But, her nails are burning and blazing in bright stark white as they are composed to the tiny swirling stars, glittering like the bright sunlight.

“Tarn,” Womack sees the same image, an exotic feature of the princess.

Her outfit is sexier than a dancer at the local tavern. The tight single cloth of silk purple is wrapped around both her breasts, revealing her liver colored skin, exposing a naked throat. No jewelry. No earrings. No necklaces. No fabric covers her tiny waist, exhibiting a set of taunt muscles and a flat abdomen.

The skirt is placed strategically even on both slender hips. The twin split panels flow around both her long and dark skinned legs and as, the fabric gracefully touched the floor. Her toenails peak out from underneath the protective hemline.

Tarn closes the mouth, tracking her pretty semi-naked body down toward the floor with a gasp, “Her feet!”

“Tarn,” Womack sees the same feature, pulling Tarn into a chest.

The high heels, that young and older females wear, look painful on her delicate feet. Her sandals look pretty with the set of embedded purple gems over the straps. But, her toes guides Tarn’s eyes to the next surprise for the day. Her toenails glitter in radiated illumination with white swirling stars like her finger nails. A purple silk trim, the band around her hips is tied at the corner, not with a club or a sword.

“No.” Tarn whispers, “Bato.”

Bato is the weapon of defense and status, choice for a Toucher.

“Comments later and swallow the mouth drool, son!” Womack slices his eyelids to the left and to the right at the hypnotized natives, who stand and stare inside the mall. Every eyeball studies the princess. He sighs with relief.

“True,” Tarn breathes into the ear and neck of Womack, staring at the princess.

“Later!” Womack scans the princess with a grin, too.

The royal entourage stands more erect than humanly possible, not moving or speaking.

The second row is composed of a set of tall males, wearing the fabric color of tan. Each male wears a shirtless vest and a set of exposed arm muscles which is paired with a pair of matching slender trousers that are tucked into a pair of shiny tan knee boots. A set of ten fingernail glows in an individual hues, such like, reds, greens, blues, oranges, yellows, or purples.

The third row is composed of a set of tall females, wearing the color beige. Each female wears a two piece outfit and a pair of heeled sandals which is sorta similar to the princess, revealing a pair of naked arms and legs, not the belly button. A set of ten fingernail glows in a different hues, such like, reds, greens, blues, oranges, yellows, or purple, also.

The fourth row is composed of a set of females, wearing the color of dark blue. Each female wears a two piece outfit and a pair of heeled sandal similar to the princess, revealing a pair of naked arms and legs, and an exposed belly button. A set of ten fingernail glow in an array of sapphire blues to hot pinks to ruby reds to emerald greens, and other vividly rich colors.

The fifth row is composed of a set of males, wearing the color of black. Each male wears a shirtless vest and a set of exposed arm muscles which is paired with a pair of matching slender trousers that are tucked down into a pair of shiny black colored knee boots. A set of ten fingernail glow in an array of sapphire blues to hot pinks to ruby reds to emerald greens.

The sixth row is composed of both males and females, wearing the color of gray. Each female wears a two piece outfit and a pair of heeled sandals similar to the princess, revealing a pair of naked arms and legs, and an exposed belly button. Each male wears a shirtless vest and a pair of exposed arm muscles which is coupled with a pair of matching slender trousers that are tucked down into a pair of shiny gray tinted knee boots. A set of ten fingernail glows in an array of lighter color tones from amber to peach to azure blue to cyan blue to lime green to mint green and other light colors.

The seventh row is composed of both males and females. Each one possesses a tone of dark tinted skin, a head of black colored hair, and a pair of blue eyes. A simple cotton short dress of pink and a pair of flat sandals dons each female. Each male wears a simple set of a shirt, a pair of pants, and a pair of naked flat sandals of blue colors.

The eighth row is composed of a set of short males and females. Each one is dwarf-sized with a long purple colored ponytail and a tone of bright yellow tinted skin on a plump body.

“What is all the gossip about the young royal?” One of the Chamme natives stares at the princess and asks his mesmerized friend, standing next to the eardrum of Tarn.

“She’s young.” The second Chamme native stared with a nod and a stern face at the princess.

“Seventeen moons.” The third Chamme native whispers as the big eardrums of Tarn catch the spoken words. They all stare at the princess.

“Whoa, I’m the same age.” Tarn whispers with a smile.

Womack whispers and watches the parade. “Stop drooling, son!”

“Wow, we are the same age.”

Womack frowns. “Stop panting, son!”

“I’m impressed.”

“Me, too.”

A couple elegantly strolls from the stunned natives, advancing ahead to the princess and stops, standing in place, holding out a bouquet of purple flowers.

Tarn gasps, “Dad, look!”

Womack scans the flowers and the metal wall up toward the rooftop. “Yes, I see the pretty purple hue of each flower. Yes, I understand.” He looks down with a smile at the colored flowers.

Tarn stares at the princess. “Understand, what?”

Womack turns and scans the interior of the mall on each floor, studying the merchandise. “Why all the structures are enclosed and surrounded by metal?”

Tarn smiles, “What?”

“The three green dwarf stars rain down a pyramid of green mist of light. The falling green mist of lights mix with the upwardly drifting purple light of soil, creating a white fog around the natural plants, the trees, the soil, not the structures, not the life forms, either. The shopping mall is enclosed in metal, detouring or disturbing the pigment lights of whiteness. Thus, you see the true color of each flower, plant, food item, or flowing skirt. Yes, the metal blocks the blending of the lights. This is why we are seeing the rich colored purple flowers and her rich colored purple gown.”

Tarn grins, “She’s beautiful in her gown, too.”

The couple stops and bows at a fat waist and stands upright. The female Chamme slowly extends the flower bouquet sideway to the princess. The princess extends both hands with a smile toward the flower bouquet. The male smiles, “Welcome, Princess Parra of Ultimedia to the first day of celebrating the Snow Arrival on Chamme. We are so honored that the Ultimedia Society is part of our culture. We invite you to stay at the apex of our grandest shopping mall here for the remainder of the festival which ends in two days. The apex is located on the top level of the 506th floor, a magnificent view of the three dwarf stars for your evening pleasure.”

Parra reached out and touches the outer thorn-less long stems of the purple flowers with a smile. Her Touch tells her so. A single blue colored beam slices a perfect line between the fingertips of Parra and the Chamme female. Parra drops the flowers and jerks back both hands into her breasts with a sneer and without a burn or a blood protein.

The severed and burnt flowers fall down onto the floor.

The Touch tells her so. Parra looks up with a growl and scans the glass windows, spotting five tiny purple dots that fly through the air inside the shopping mall.

Each purple dot stops and attaches onto a glass window, leaving a pretty pink smear. Then, the tiny dot jumps one at a time from the smeared window, leaping onto a new glass pane, painting it pretty pink, again.

Tarn looks up with a gasp to see the dots, too. “Dad, it was a stinger beam from one of the…”

The Touch tells him so. Womack whispers. “Do not turn off your Touch projection! Just observe and watch, son.”

A second blue color beam flies toward her crème colored curls. Parra reaches over and yanks the bato from the purple ribbon forward, lifting and capturing the second blue light inside the weapon with ease. The absorbing bean creates a set of white sparks over the floor, sizzling the air with heat and as, Parra sneers at her new enemy with fury and revenge.

A third, fourth, and then fifth beam duplicates the same pattern, coming toward her curls, again.

Her bato fires with a white spark, capturing all the other rays. She turns and scans the air waves with a lady growl.

Tarn watches her with a whisper into the eardrum of Womack. “A blue stinger beam is a killing beam. They’re trying to kill her, Dad. The red beam of a stinger is a warning beam, but hurts, if touched somewhere on the fleshy body. And the green beam is a neutralizing beam for…for something. Dad, the princess needs my…our assistance support. We’re the good guys, here. Remember, Dad?”

“I concur.” Womack whispers and watches her. Parra dances with the blue killing beam and captures it into her bato. “But, she is the bad guy, here. Remember, son? Don’t you feel it, Tarn?”

Tarn frowns and watches Parra, “Feel, what?”

“The curtain is rising.” Womack whispers.

“Well played, Dad.” Tarn smiled.

 

 

445th shopping level

Hours 15 and minutes 05

 

 

Parra bends both kneecaps with a lady growl and slaps both arms down at her side, performing a Touch leap from the ground floor and a touch fly into the air, sailing over the hair roots of the Chamme natives. She continues the Touch sail through the air space within the mall, extending her arms forward and balances in a horizontal pose like a flying bird. She collides into one of the flying tiny purple dots, grunting with pain.

Parra quickly rebounds backward off the soft tiny body and performs a Touch halt within the air waves, reaching over and grabs the bato. Using the sharp crystal tip, she slices the purple dot at the thick neck to remove a head and at the thigh to remove a leg.

The dot looks and feels like an overgrown rat with a set of rounded ears, a tone of soft purple tinted skin, a long black ugly tail, and a series of rounded pink welts. Then, one of the welts explodes into a pink color.

Parra performs a Touch jump with a gasp and hits the glass window. Some of the soaring pink stain hits the dress tail of her princess gown, burning a clear hole through the fabric. She mouth spits blood from a pair of busted lips with a grunt and then snorts out more blood from a busted nose. Her ear itches, where the blood slowly drops down and onto a naked shoulder.

A second rat turns with a sneer and aims a stinger devise at Parra, releasing the blue beam with a grin.

Parra executes a Touch leap down from the window and free falls in a flat pose down toward the ground floor. The beam hits the glass window, exploding into millions of pieces. Parra wiggles a body, both arms, and both legs side to side, maneuvering a Touch sail through the air space toward the floor at an angle. A third rat jumps down from the window and drops, falling down through the air space, landing on top of her naked legs. She dives in a downward pose and locks both legs over the rat. Then, she flings both legs in a forward roll and releases the rat from her leg muscles.

The rat flies toward one of the glass windows of a sleeping unit hallway which is devoid of Chamme natives.

Parra stiffens a body into a vertical pose, completing one vertical somersault and then stand upright to face the window in a Touch hold again and fires the bato tip with her white ejon into the window. The window glass breaks on the 378th floor of the shopping mall.

The third rat enters through the new opening by Parra and hits some of the broken glass, sliding over the hallway floor into the table and the wall, producing a dead rat. The vase of flowers and water wobbles side to side on top of the table and then drops down, covering the series of exploding pink welts of color, coming out from the dead rat. Then, pink stream drifts from the floor to the ceiling.

Parra executes a Touch swing and performs a Touch drop, spinning around and around, slamming the bato tip into the glass window at the 370th floor, executing a Touch halt. She searches for the remaining rats. A new blue beam kisses the broken glass fragments next to her face. It explodes into pieces of tiny shards. Parra performs a Touch jump backward from the exploding glass fragment with a sneer and executes a Touch drop with a grunt, firing her white ejon ray at the fourth and fifth rats, missing.

The fourth and fifth rats turn and aim the stinger devise, firing an individual green rays, boxing Parra between the glass window which is not a kill, but a capture maneuver.

She performs a Touch halt with a snarl, not touching the green beam, which would neutral all her muscles and nerves. She would fall down to her death, splattering over the hard mud floor of the shopping mall without Prince Cotana there to catch her.

She slaps the tip of the bato into the first green beam and slowly swings it around. Her white ejon and the green beam spark and spit a set of tiny fire balls into the air and onto her face. She licks the heat balls with her sweat balls and finally smashes the first beam into the second beam, tossing back the twin green beams directly toward the twin owners.

The white and green beams collide and form a yellow ray of color. The yellow ray explodes within a blink of an eyelash and slams into the twin rats, the twin glass windows, and the naked hallway.

The rats leap from the window and explode into colors of pink, purple, yellow, and green. The pretty ashes slowly drift through the air space and swiftly land down over the purple mud floor of the shopping mall.

The Chamme natives sound with a series of happy cheer and hand claps for the Vilo princess.

Parra continues the Touch halt in the air space and exhales with a puff of exhaustion, watching the plume. A set of pretty ashes swiftly drift down toward the floor and away from her. She bends both kneecaps and executes a Touch leap, flying upward, not downward and reaches up and fires the bato into the glass window on the 506th level.

Parra thrusts both knees into a chest, swiftly landing in a crouch on a pair of her spiky sandal heels, not easy. She grunts with slight pain and exhales with a puff of annoyance, slowly standing upright like a Vilo princess and as, her eyelashes dart to see the scared Chamme workers. She sneers out loud. “Do be afraid!” She turns and strolls with a grunt of pain toward the closed elevator doors, allowing the dress train to get dirt over the nasty floor.

Parra lifts and zaps the button with a tiny white ejon beam from the bato and exhales with a puff of fury.

The elevator doors open.

The Touch tells her so. Parra enters with a grunt and taps the penthouse suite button, sending a white ejon beam from the bato, again. She doesn’t want anymore rat germs, touching her body, ever.

 

 

Ground level

Hours 15 and minutes 18

 

 

Womack watches with a grin. Parra has land safely on the top floor of the shopping mall. He swings around with a smile and drags Tarn by the arm, swiftly moving away from the stomping and shouting shoppers. The shoppers point and shout at the rats and broken windows, dashing into the stores that exist above the 506th floor, where Parra has landed after exhibiting her outstanding Touch performance.

Tarn strolls backward and drops open a mouth, jabbing a finger at the air space with a grunt. “Did you…?”

“Yeah,” Womack shuffles side to side and slams into shoulders, tripping over other boot toes, escaping out of the heated bodies of the shoppers.

Tarn stares at the opening on the 506th level and jabs a finger at the air space with a smile. “Did she…?”

“Yeah,” he advances toward the exit door and exhales with a huff of worry. He uses his Touch to part the shoulder to shoulder shoppers for a clear foot path of a fast escape before they are discovered as Dihe clan members.

Tarn chuckles at the opening on the top floor, “Did it…?”

“Yeah,” he shoves Tarn in front of a chest and pushes his son toward the exit door with a worried brow and a whisper as both males are still painted in green colors from the Touch projection. “We need to leave, son. It is most dangerous here for us, too.” His eyelids dart to the right and to the left, seeking any danger to him and his son.

Tarn spins around with a smile to face the open elevator doors. “Can we…?”

“Naw,” he shoves Tarn into an empty and open elevator carriage without any other life forms.

The elevator door closes.

 

 

506th suite of shopping mall setting

Hours 15 and minutes 44

 

 

Parra wipes the wet and dried blood from a face and both arms, marching down an empty corridor and through the open archway at the end of the hallway. The door closes behind her torn and stained dress hem. The 506th floor is a single sleeping unit for a single person. She enters and stops further inside the room, studying the interior.

The room is shaped like a cone with a set of tall shiny walls, forming a two inched diameter spike at the arched ceiling peak which is made of golden tinted metal. The walls are not decorated with objects, such like, a piece of art work or a photograph. There are no windows for viewing the dwarf stars or shiny planetoids, either. The oversized furniture pieces are appointed in an array of colors from bright pinks to dull greens to electric blues to flashy reds.

The multi-colored fabrics make her eyeballs dizzy. She closes her eyelashes with a sigh and opens her eyelashes, inhaling with a set of fresh breathes, strolling forward between the twin sofas, stopping and stands in front of the black tinted camtube. She exhales with puff of calmness, controlling a racing pulse and a wildly beating heart, reaching out and presses the button. She types in the secret math code, accessing the cammic for her parents.

The camtube sizzles in an array of red and black colored vertical lines and then changes into the face of her father.

“I was attacked, Father.” Parra sorta whines.

Her father frowns with annoyance. “You are the strongest of your kind, Parra. You are the princess of the Vilo Society. Your regal position will always be challenged by land, by sea, or by air, coming from strangers, friends, and foes.” Father of Parra, Aperdorta is a strict and caring parent who never shows emotion as the first Shade of the Vilo. Poker faced. Controlled. Stern.

However, Queen Marcola is the strongest Vilo warrioress league alive, maintaining an invisible tiara by force, by threat, and by blood.

When Parra is queen, she will abolish the stupid challenge of the Chap, storing her first order deeply down within her sub-conscious mind.

The first Chap was the hardest. The second one was harder to forget. The third Chap challenge was indifference. After the fourth victory, she was numb as the real princess of Ultimedia and Vilo.

Her mother was both relieved, first and satisfied, second.

Her father was proud and glowering, if the truth was told. He lavished the highest royal honor. His daughter was rewarded the title of princess, becoming immediately engaged to marry the prince. The rite of passage was completed for his Ultimedia family unit.

Vilo society was ruled by a female, since the beginning of existence. The female decided the human fate like a goddess.

Parra attended school, learning that smelly fodder which was also produced by herd of wild elephants kept inside Marcola’s private zoo.

The next step is to defeat of the Queen Marcola, before the ascension of Parra onto the throne of Ultimedia. Yeah, part of the glamour of victory and total gory and glory of queen-ship, in addition the queen does not select her mate, the king. Since, the victorious male is rewarded the title of king of Ultimedia, who does not marry the queen for some silly unknown explanation.

Parra was sick to her stomach when Prince Lenoke died by the right slicing hand of Cotana which had been thirty lights ago. Lenoke, the biological son of Marcola had never been challenged and reigned, since a baby as the Prince of Vilo until his stagnate age of thirty six moons which was old for a royal prince.

When Cotana and Parra reach eighteen moons, they would be married. Parra is really either extremely thrilled or extremely upset.

Cotana is a fine human-kind male of six feet and six inches tall, 230 pounds of ripped muscle and sinew that covers a glowing tone of liver colored skin. His pink thin lips constantly smile into her matching violet colored eyeballs. His blondish-white hair called cream. Since, the hair roots are white, but the highlights glisten in the bright sunlight of blonde, flowing with a natural curl that are tossed around the forehead, the neck, the collar bone, and both ears.

Parra finds the prince handsome, yeah, a fine specimen of Vilo.

All Vilo humans, the preferred name of the Ultimedia Society, appeared physically the same. Each one is a male of tall and lean muscles, a set of long bones, a heart shaped face. On the face, there is a pair of violet colored irises, a head of cream colored long locks of curls, a tone of medium dark skin complexion which is not gold, not coffee, not tan, but something in-between.

The slave wards or Doxi breed like to use the term liver to describe the noble exterior skin epidermis. Liver is an organ inside the biological body, appearing medium brown in color with a set of yellow undertones. The Vilo human skin tone is much similar to that hue of color.

“Why are you blushed, Parra?” The false pretty face of Marcola invades the camtube, replacing her father.

Parra desires to eye roll and then wiggle a pink tongue, coming outside a set of perfectly shaped lips at the dense remark of the queen. She would like to create conflict, chaos, contradiction and more ‘C’ words. But, she was the princess, running the mall count four times, until the rat-looking assassins were assassinated, too.

“I would suggest some additional exercises in the Chap, when you return from your princess duties at exo-planetoid Chamme, dear.” Her fake face grins from Marcola. The queen enjoys ruling with an iron fist, especially pointing out the princess’s weakness in front of the kinfolks.

Parra bits the tongue, knowing that her time is coming with Marcola. And Marcola knows…feels it, too. Parra slightly nods at the queenly suggestion without a verbal comment.

The camtube splits, showing the head and shoulders of both the queen Marcola and her father Aperdorta.

“Outside deterrents are best sport for learning, daughter,” the father of Parra, Aperdorta says without the slightest sympathy, favor, or glory. As usual, his stern lecture involves a hard core life for the princess of Ultimedia.

“Sport, this was not a sporting event, Father.” Parra exhales with frustration. Those creatures were marked to kill her.

Her father exhales with sigh of boredom with a minor fight inside the shopping mall on Chamme. “What vile species proposed death to your nobleness, Parra?”

“Rogents, rat-like things,” she frowns with annoyance.

Marcola frowns within the fake face. “The rat-like things are correctly called Rogentila. You also need to brush up on the other species and their bad habits, within Intragalaxy, as the princess of Ultimedia. You might run into them, again.”

Parra nods with a stern face. “Yes ma’am!”

Cotana scoots beside Marcola, occupying the same screen within the camtube. He chuckles with a smile at the clear visual and audio reception of the pretty face and the soprano voice of his princess Parra that beams from the world of Chamme. Spies from other humanoids and species for centuries have stolen the ancient technology of Ultimedia which is needed to maintain a viable working society for both commerce and entertainment. Some of these societies like the Dihe worlds control by hate and blood, acting out through fighting battles and conquests.

Cotana does not favor war, but peace.

Once placed upon the throne, he and Parra would rule a different world, one of peace, prosperity, and participation of true honor.

He says softly, sending his Touch in an array of verbal and mental comforts toward his princess. “You defended yourself very well toward the sub-creatures, princess.”

Parra smiles with a nod and feels the familiar Touch of Cotana which is far away. They share a remarkable chemistry of an uncanny cosmic nature. Almost like, the two are destined for each other for the rest of eternity.

The mother Sarla scoots and cuddles with her husband and a worried brow into the screen. “Come home, Parra, now!”

Marcola frowns. “Once, Parra completes her duty as princess, of course, she will return to Ultimedia for her next duty.”

“Since, absent makes my heart grows weary. I will accommodate Parra to the eve dance as the turn of deadly events has threatened her noble position.” Cotana winks with a smile at his princess.

Marcola turns and smiles into the nose profile of Cotana. “You jest, Cotana! Parra is the second strongest Vilo among our warrior race. She doesn’t need a babysitter on Chamme.”

Cotana chuckles with a nod at Parra. “And I fall somewhere below that. Therefore, I need her protection while visiting on Chamme, late eve,” winking.

“I accept Prince Cotana and any additional babysitting requirements.” Parra giggles.

Marcola turns and gasps at Parra. “You have present among the royal entourage, most of the adult and teenling Shades, who have accompanied you there, specifically for your protection, Parra. You didn’t need any more babysitters. Please, attend the Chamme dinner and dance, this eve. Then, you are ordered to return back to Ultimedia, late eve. There is a new event which requires your attention and attendance.”

“What new social event?” Aperdorta turns and frowns at the fake nose profile of Marcola. “I am apprised of all forthcoming social encounters for Parra, before her attendance. I ensure her safety and security.”

Marcola turns and gasps at Aperdorta. “I will arrogantly point out, regarding this social encounter. You missed the election of the Rogentila rats, landing on Chamme. They usually stay less than one flick, consuming every type of edible non-nutritious food item within the shopping mall per my spies.”

Aperdorta gasps then sneers at the queen. “Your spies should have notified my spies…”

Marcola gasps then growls at the father of Parra. “My spies will be notifying your species, immediately…”

Cotana leans a smile into the camtube, occupying the entire screen. Parra can hear and see her father and the queen Marcola, fighting in the background. He grins with a wink. “I will be there within two flicks, Parra. I love you.”

Parra giggles with a nod. “I will be waiting, Cotana. I love you, too.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tarn

 

 

Hours 20 and minutes 00

Late afternoon

Spinner hanger garage of Womack and Tarn

Cold temperatures with green light without bright stars

 

 

Tarn sits in front of the curved console inside the Dihe spinner on the opposite side of the pilot chair, pressing a button, snapping numerous pictures of the building on Chamme. The white foggy atmosphere makes each picture appear both fuzzy and blurry. No matter! He tosses the interior camtube lenses within the spinner at the 506th top level of the shopping mall, hoping to catch a quick glance of the princess. However, the exterior structure of the building is solid metal.

The camtube lenses scan for any type of tiny hole or cracked opening within the metal for a quick tom peek and snap of the camera. Once found, he can send a tiny probe inside the crack of more teenling secret information that Tarn might could sale and collect a big bag of shivers, too.

Shivers mean money.

He desperately desires a colored photo of the princess, before leaving Chamme. Nimtarts, Cherwell, and the rest of the Dihe teenlings will never believe my science fiction tale which confirms his visual and his emotion experience today inside the shopping mall.

His dad, Womack never shares his secrets, even with the wife Maries as Tarn notes on numerous occasions. Womack likes to be the insect on the side wall, not moving but lingering and listening, holding all the secrets close to his heart. Since, Womack and Tarn are good buddies, holding each other secrets, too.

Womack sits inside the pilot chair, scanning the viewer screen window for any roaming Vilo warriors, who came along with the princess of Ultimedia. He exhales with a huff of intrigue with a smile at the screen. “What’s your impression of the staged show, this morning?”

“She’s beautiful.” Tarn continues to scan the building with a smile and a nod for quick snap picture of the princess.

He shakes a skull with a grin and scans the outside of the spinner with the Touch for any Vilo. “What’s your impression of the staged show, this morning?”

Tarn scans the metal building for a peek hole with a smile and a nod. “She’s tall and beautiful.”

He scans the white foggy atmosphere of Chamme with the Touch. “What’s your impression of the staged assassination attempt on the tall and beautiful princess?”

“Paste,” Tarn twirls a naked hand over the glass plate with a laugh and a grin. The plate commands the exterior camtube lenses, looking for a peek hole to see the princess, again.

He laughs. “What has activated your engaging teenling behavior, so suddenly?”

Tarn twirls a hand over the glass plate, looking for a peek hole again, “My report to Koos.”

He scans the exterior metal of the ship for any defects with a smile, “That’s due, later, like tomorrow.”

Tarn twirls a hand over the plate, moving the camtube lenses at a new portion of the tall building with a smile. “I wanna document all the details, still fresh in my mind, before I forget or get distracted or need to do something else.”

He nods with a grin, “An excellent idea, Tarn! May I include my personal and my professional views inside your report assignment, producing both efficacy and efficient?”

Tarn stares at the camtube screen with a sour frown and a matching tone, “Dad, just say add this and that.”

He smiles, “My first addition, where do the Vilo come from?”

“Their planet,” Tarn laughs.

He smiles. “Great answer, son! Which planet? Which sector within Intragalaxy?”

Tarn exhales with a huff of annoyance. “Eastern sector, because we live, come from, and are from the western side of Intragalaxy,” chuckling.

He stares up to see the ceiling with a smile, “Another great answer, son! Are they a threat to us?”

Tarn continues to stare into the camtube and purses the lips with a nod. “Yes.”

He stares up into the ceiling with a confused brow. “Why yes, not no?”

Tarn exhales with another huff, leaning back into the chair, watching the camera lenses. It walks up and down the metal of the building, looking for a peep hole to see the princess. “The Vilo represent power, greed, bad, evil, dark ejon. Dihe is protect, good, light ejon…”

“Ejon does not have a tangible presentation, son. I thought you had learned the first code of Dihe.”

Tarn lifts and wiggles a hand of the fingernails that glow in white in front of a face with a laugh and a grin, “My fingernails and toenails…”

Womack looks down with a smile to see the viewer screen window on the pilot console, monitoring the shopping mall for any roaming Vilo warriors. “Your repeat Primeling lessons are paying off good, son.”

“Dad!”

He frowns. “Tarn, you selected a very strong word there, evil. Was she evil, destroying her assassins?”

“Naw.”

“Great answer, Tarn! Why was the princess, the only Toucher fighting? There seemed, to me, to be more than one present within the royal entourage.”

“Don’t know.”

“Theorize, son?”

Tarn exhales a huff of annoyance. “She be the ‘bestest’ Touch fighter within her royal entourage, the princess.”

“What made her the ‘bestest’ Touch fighter?”

Tarn buzzes the lips and continues to stare into the camtube, “She has a princess title, but I can still beat her a…”

“Is that a literal answer, son?” He shakes a skull with a grin and stares at the screen.

Tarn leans into the camtube screen for a peek hole and taps both boot toes with a smile. “My skills are bestest.”

“Really, is that a figurative answer?”

“Naw, I am best…”

“Hmm, I thought you, a second Prime.”

“Best her.” Tarn nods with a laugh and stares into the screen for a peek hole to see the princess.

He chuckled. “Clarification is always greatly appreciated. Thank you, Tarn! How do we learn more about them?”

“Study the foe on their home turf.”

He nods with a smile and scans the shopping mall with the Touch. “Great answer, Tarn! How do we do that?”

“We can spy on her.”

“Another great answer, Tarn! How do we spy on her?”

“I could…”

“Did she see you and me as representatives of the Dihe clan? As we, two were disguised a pair of Chamme natives near the wall at the store?”

Tarn looks down with a puzzled brow to see the dirty floor and shakes his blonde colored shoulder length curls. “Don’t think so! I was colored in puke neon vomit green on my face. But, then again, my face was inflaming in bright red colors when the assassins attacked the princess from something, for something, out of something, like fear or fright. So, I guess my face was tinted and blended into an ugly orange color. So, she couldn’t see me.”

He stares at the screen of the shopping mall and exhales with a huff. “Did she read your mind?”

Tarn looks up with a smile to see the camtube screen. “I wish…”

“I do not hear your response there, son.”

Tarn chuckles, “No.”

“Great answer, Tarn! Why are you so certain that the princess did not see us? She was scanning the mall for the assassins.”

Tarn looks down with a smile and a nod to see the camtube screen, “Rightly so, I would have been doing it, too. Since, she was attacked inside the open theater of the mall, right in front of crowded Chamme males, females, and children. The attack was illegally and bold. It doesn’t make sense to me, Dad.”

“Why was she attacked?”

“Great question, Dad! Her position is regal and powerful, princess of Vilo.”

He nods with a grin. “You were listening to the old surly males, too. Yeah, the royal entourage impressed me, also. She is some powerful humanoid with Touch talents, too.”

“She’s humanoid like me.” Tarn smirks with a nod at the screen.

“And princess…”

Tarn stands upright from the chair with a gasp and a worried brow. The chair rolls away from the console, not latched by his Touch and hit the curved wall with a soft thud. “Mom doesn’t know any of this.”

Womack exhales with a huff of annoyance and shakes a skull at the screen. “Your mom knows everything.”

Tarn stared down with a puzzled brow at the camtube screen, “She does? What does she know, Dad?”

“We are on a mission to learn about the Vilo.”

Tarn lifts and stretches up all limbs, staring down with a frown at the camtube screen. The lenses had not found a crack within the solid metal of the shopping mall building, “So, we learn, not meet face to face. We met them this afternoon or this morning or this evening. What time of day or night is it here? I can’t tell from the white foggy mist.”

“The evening hours have fallen over Chamme.”

Tarn chuckles, “So, let’s ask them over and provide tons of Koos’ beer. Everyone likes gold beer, cold, frosty, thick crème foam…”

“You are underage, son?”

Tarn clears a throat with a chuckle, staring down at the screen. “You noticed that? Well, we could ask some of the smaller males that look older. Then, I could pretend to look older, holding the beer…”

“Do you have another brilliant plan, son?”

Tarn crosses both biceps, flexing the muscles with a sour frown, staring down at the camtube. “Pondering?”

He grins at the viewer window. “Since, you are pondering. Did you notice the species of assassins?”

“Rogentila, the rat-like species possess a purple squat body with a set of numerous pink colored welts, containing deadly poison for defense. The species-like live with beasts of sliders on the cold ice snow and blue land masses of Gesclide, which is one of the farthest planets from the sun and fueled by a blue dwarf star. The rats are four feet high with a plump round body, a pair of short arms with a set of three fat fingers on a hand and three toes on the naked feet. Round head, big eyes, pink lined ears, nose and round mouth, with no teeth, only gums, can spit long distances for protection.”

He nods with a smile. “Well presented, Tarn! Prime teachings are paying big dividends for my shives.”

Tarn frowns at the screen, “You ain’t rich, Dad.”

“Right, bud! What did you think about the staged show?”

He looks up with a frown to see the ceiling. “Not a staged show, a most elegantly orchestrated dance, as well, as a memorable Touch performance. Parra wasn’t performing. She was perfusioning…”

“Parra!?” Womack frowns with confusion.

“Princess Parra.” Tarn smiles at the ceiling.

Womack stands from the chair as it rolls toward the wall. He shakes a skull and points with a sour frown at Tarn. “You have progressed so far, Tarn. You will not Touch mind in this foreign sector, anymore. Understood me, son?”

Tarn looks down with a set of pursed lips at his dad, sliding both underneath each armpit, “Sorry, Dad! But, she…he was so easy and available and next to me and…”

“Tarn!” Womack shakes a skull with a frown of disappointment.

“Sorry, I’m deeply curious, inquisitive…”

He exhales with a huff of annoyance and wiggles his fingernails to sum the rolling chair. The chair slides from the wall, stopping directly behind the fanny of Womack. He sits with a sour frown and a matching tone to the viewer screen window, “You snoop, like your mother. Touchers can sense each other, without the nosy mind probe. Be very careful, Tarn! We are watchers only, not players here on Chamme.”

Tarn wiggles his fingernails with the Touch and calls back the rolling chair from the wall. The chair stops behind his fanny, too. He sits with a frown, “Sorry, Dad.”

He nods with a smile. “Did you notice anything else unique, this afternoon?”

Tarn chuckles with a nod. “O, you mean the matching spinner parts, coming direct from the machine factory, the same height, the same weight, the same hair…”

“Called cream.”

Tarn lifts an eyebrow in curiosity at the screen. “Care to share your limited knowledge of Vilo, while we’re conversing here?”

He tucks both hands underneath an armpit with a chuckle, “Naw.”

Tarn exhales with a huff of frustration and a nod. “The same liver covered baked on skin tone.”

“Ah, you have been studying.”

“I have my resources, Dad. The guys are ripped, buffed, and primed.”

“Guys?” Womack laughs. “You noticed the males, first.”

Tarn stands from the chair and flexes both arm muscles with a nod at the tower on the console, not seeing Womack. “Six, six, three hundred pounds of warrior gets my attention, very quickly.”

He tosses both hands into the air with a chuckle at the screen, “Slider meat for a second Prime.”

Tarn exhales and shakes his chuckles, sitting back down into the chair with a grin, staring down at the viewer screen window again. “Glad, you got lots of overconfidence in your son.”

He grins with a nod at the screen, “Always.”

“Bald or buzzed cut or the washed and shampooed shoulder length hair that was highlighted with notable scars on each sour face. Battle awarded, without a doubt.”

He drops open a mouth and then smiles. “Ah, I was worrying about your girly description of cream locks.”

Tarn grins with a nod at the screen. “Wane, those Shade girls are very beautiful, each one of them. They could win by war, breaking a guy’s heart.”

He laughs. “Good strategy, Tarn! I will make certain never to suggest that brilliant plot to their greedy Vilo leaders, who’s desirous to take over Intragalaxy.”

Tarn laughs. “Tell it like I see it, Dad. And bud, I see girls, lots of girls, tall, slender, delicate…”

“Deadly.”

“I was getting to that part.”

“Deadly, like a slider, too.”

Tarn grins with a nod. “The pretty girls had a head of long flowing cream colored locks down to a waist and dressed…”

“Dressed!?”

Tarn chuckles, “The tall girls wore some very interesting Vilo uniforms. My imagination didn’t miss nothing.”

He frowns. “I hope your neurons, not your imagination noted the batos.”

Tarn frowns. “Each bato was shimmering crystal with a sharp spike tip, reflecting a different color. I have never seen another colored bato other than crystal stone of white or tree wood of white or shiny solid metal of white.” Womack does not comment. Tarn frowns with puzzlement. “Dad?”

He softly says. “Yes.”

Tarn exhales. “Dad, why are the batos color coordinated like a color wheel, like the many rooms of first Governor Yamhill’s manor?”

Womack exhales. “The shiny gleam, coming from a set of exposed fingernails and matching hidden toes nails, represents a specific degree of ejon. Everyone, including non-Touch users, possesses ejon which is displayed within an array of varying degrees and stages. The exposed finger nails of the Vilo were the same color and hue as their batos which you noticed like me.”

Tarn frowns with a nod at the screen. “Yes, it was so overwhelming to my visual and metaphysical senses. But, I recalled vividly. The batos and nails matched. So, ejon possesses an array of different colors which represents an assortment of degrees of ejon power. Let me guess, here! The degrees must be high, medium, low.”

Womack nods with a smile, “Very good, Tarn! If I have read correctly, the Vilo warriors were the array of pastel hues that are the lowest grade or rank. For example, the color of peach would be illustrated on a second Shade as a low degree of ejon. The color hues like copper or blue are medium degrees. Thus, the dark rich tones would be the high ejon degrees.”

Tarn lifts and wiggles all fingernails in front of a smile. “White is the highest.”

“…brightest, boldest, and strongest.”

Tarn exhales. “Dad, how do you know all this data?”

He looks down with a worried brow to see the floor. “I have some more bits and bites of data which I have not shared with MEX, the other humanoids, the other species, and the other Dihe.”

Tarn gasps. “But…”

He exhales. “Tarn, I am one hundred and twenty eight years, middle age, old soul, and your protector. It is my position to know this and lots more.”

“Time to share, Dad?” Tarn laughs.

Womack frowns. “Not today! You mentioned that you have never seen a colored bato, because colored ejon which is displayed by the other humanoids and species do not exist within the Dihe clan.”

Tarn claps with a smile. “So, we’re the predestined or privileged super beings of Intragalaxy. Wane, Dad, I can’t wait to tell…”

“Dack is the proper exclamation, here. Dihe possesses white ejon. I can speak for my person. I have not seen Dihe with one single colored fingernail, either.”

“Good to know, you’re learning with me.”

“Unfortunately, you are very correct. Did you see the rows of Vilo beings?”

Tarn laughs. “You couldn’t miss the sound, the smell, and the sneers. Parra, the strongest Vilo with white ejon was followed by her guards…her warriors.”

“The warriors are properly entitled Shades. They were located on rows three, four, and five. What were the beings on rows one and two?”

Tarn shakes his curls, “Umm, her war advisors.”

He nods. “Good, Tarn! The warriors followed right behind her older and wiser advisors, who were the parents of the young Shades, by the way. What life forms followed behind the buttholes of warriors, making up the larger bodies of both males and females?”

Tarn grins, “Umm, her healers?”

“You are not concentrating, son.”

Tarn frowns. “Bud, this ain’t no test, Dad.”

“This is life, hard core. Think, son!”

“Okay, alright, there were rows of warriors, advisors, and then the maid service.” Tarn laughs.

He grins. “I will be a good parent and give you a hint. Maids fell in the last two rows.”

Tarn tosses both arms into the air with a sour frown, “Geez, Dad. Punt to me! Fashion designers.”

He laughs. “Good enough, Tarn! Did you note anything else, repeating?”

“Besides, the repeating one beautiful babe, after another in each row. Can’t wait to tell Nimtarts? Wished, I had carried my campad that you stole? Female warriors are beautiful anytime…”

He laughs. “Well, I guess that depends on your position at the moment. Okay, ditch the teenling testosterone. Tell me what other observations you gathered here this afternoon at the royal parade site?”

Tarn frowns. “Six rows with Parra, makes seven rows of Vilo.”

“Correct, Tarn! There were only humans in front rows. Do you know why?”

“Naw!”

“All the Vilo warriors are ruled by a dictatorship, a queen with the aid of the powerful Vilo families. Both the wife and husband are talented Vilo warriors, producing one child with the same or more Touch talent. One surviving child makes their Vilo society small, compact, but dangerous…”

“…and deadly like us, Dihe.”

“The privileged Vilo own everything, including wealth, slaves, and property.”

Tarn sneers. “The more, I learn. The more, I don’t like the Vilo. Do you think their home planets are overcrowded? So, they are expanding onto the other worlds. This is the reason for Parra’s visitation to Chamme.”

He exhales. “I cannot say. I do not know. The Vilo Society lusts in greed and deception and drama.”

“Your reference toward the staged show?”

“What else had peaked your interest in perfusion?”

“Parra was surprised but very cool with her highly deadly executions, using her bato. I don’t know. It felt, not right.”

“The staged show wasn’t for her benefit, either.”

Tarn pointed up at the ceiling with a grin and a nod. “Exactly, she wasn’t the actual star of the movie from my perceptive. When I Touched probed, her lung breaths, her face sweats, and her arm movements were real, not rehearsed for a play role. She killed the attacking rats with her deadly aim in short time.”

“Who benefited?”

Tarn exhales. “At first, the natives of Chamme were both shocked and stunned and then clapped for her victory, almost worshipping her star manner.”

“So, the superstar will play the lead in the upcoming engagement, maybe war.”

Tarn gasps. “That’s a strong concept, but I must agree, Dad. The staged show warned someone or someone(s) of the Vilo and their potential supernatural talents and power here on Chamme.”

“Agreed. Caution for us, Dihe and the rest of Intragalaxy, too. So, I am back to introducing ourselves to the Vilo. Since, we are here as shoppers when colored in puke green.”

Tarn grins. “I vote for the beer.”

“Vetoed,” He frowns.

Tarn smiles, “Okay, how about a rumble?”

Womack laughs with a nod. “Good, that’s very good, Tarn. Too bad, your mom and Koos aren’t part of little our social entourage today. They so enjoy Dihe fandangos.”

Tarn snorts with a laugh, “Yeah!”

He slaps both hands onto a kneecap, “How about something between a tea party and a fighting pit?”

“Okay, a social call, I would really enjoy a brief encounter with Princess Parra.”

He smiles. “A personal social call, I was anticipating that very event, maybe tonight.”

Tarn gasps. “Tonight, whose Vilo secretary do you know, Dad?”

He leans back into the chair, crossing both arms with a smile at the screen. “No secretary, I’m afraid. I have decided to schedule my own personal appointment meeting.”

“Tonight?”

He grins. “Nighttime, historically, provides some wonderful opportunities of informal, impolite, and intriguing social or battle encounters, even for a few brief exciting moments.”

Tarn gasps. “What are you suggesting, sir?”

“I want you to finish the puzzle, I started.”

“No, Dad! Tell me before I use my ejon on you and then pull it from your mind?”

Tarn pretends the play threat, since he could not grab a single mental mind flake of a roaming brain thought from the best Toucher of Intragalaxy, High Master of Dihe Womack.

However, Tarn had unglued Womack on two different isolations, peeking into the deeply sissy emotions and stunned mental thoughts of his father.

 

 

Nine years ago

Planet Harrogate

11th hour, early morning

Warm temperatures and dull sunshine

 

 

Tarn was eight years old, practicing multiply Touches, such like, minding, projecting, and porting. He Touch leaped into the air, coming directly out from the worn saddle on top of a pon-pon beast.

Pon-pon means horse.

He Touch landed solid in a crouched pose on both booted heels, sticking sorta upright onto the thick tree limb, reaching out and snatched the white colored swanette with a pair of curved arms into a chest.

Swanette means swan.

The non-flying herds of swanettes were endangered, untamed, and forbidden creatures, residing on the planet Harrogate. They were prohibited from touching, much less hunting or possessing as a pet. If any alive and breathing human-kind or species-kind was caught holding a swanette, then the male or female was given an instant death penalty. Since, the white feathers were rumored to provide warmth from the cold weather and coolness from the heated atmosphere, in addition secret healing properties when worn as a piece of clothing or a coat.

Tarn believed the legend, sensing a sweet, mild, and kind disposition as well as the colorful radiating beams of Touch healing, coming from a swanette tiny chick body as seen only by a Toucher. He held the chick close to his body, feeling warmth and protection.

The creatures lived, ate, rested, and played inside the high trees. A body was heavily filled with a set of white long soft feathers, surrounding the lean body meat and two pair of short stubby leg and arm bones. They posed beautifully with a long arched neck, falling down into a triangle head with a set of three big almond shaped eyeballs and a small pointed beige beak. No ears and nose holes were buried into a face. The unique measurable feature of a swanette was the eyeballs. One distinctive color marked each eye of the swanette for its life form and its life length.

Each swanette chick was born with one specific pattern of eye color which was different from the mom, the dad, and the other dead and alive chicks, since the beginning of time.

You did not understand.

The eye color was never ever repeated by a new chick which was part of some hidden recessive DNA creature thing that Tarn had learned in school.

There only existed eighteen documented swanette families, six males and six females, producing six live and healthy chicks. The swanette birthed one single baby chick every fifty years.

Tarn had performed a Touch jump and a Touch land onto the tree limb, guarding the chick from a marbled blue and white raptete, hearing the tiny mew of the baby chick within his Touch eardrums.

Raptete mean coyote.

The raptete, coyote-like beast was a short and squat predator, looking for some food, walking around on a set of clawed talons of marbled blue of white six legs. A meat eater, vicious at play and hunger at mealtime, it possessed a square-shaped marble white and blue head of four red eyes and eight black fangs, tearing its meal into shredded flesh and blood.

The azurlie tree was painted in pretty colors of light blue and dull tan. The flowing windblown thick light blue needles hid the hungry predator with ease from the vulnerable baby chick. The swanette mother dozed quietly among the pink sun rays, during naptime on the dull tan bark platform, the home of the non-flying swanette. The swanette father was hunting for a bush of orange berries among the lower light blue branches.

The tree was planted down into the ground with a thirty feet radius of hard thick tan trunk, 276 light blue needled branches, 150 feet tall that had been living for 2,500 years, if not disturbed. The tree was home, food, and comforts exclusively for the swanette species.

The raptete was not a native of the planet Harrogate as it had been imported from the hostile world of Gallmall as a secret pet many years ago.

Tarn whipped out his wooden bato to the left and to the right, dicing the snarling beast into four quarters. Its orange bloody body dropped down and landed with a quiet thud right in front of Womack. Womack was riding next to the empty pon-pon that belonged to Tarn.

Stunned visually, pondering mentally, and exposed emotionally, Tarn accessed the immediate thoughts of intrigue, interest, anger, alarm, and finally absolutely terror and worrisome safety of the missing and unknown child from his father Womack as Tarn had slipped away from the protective side of his father on the fun family adventure without his mom Maries.

Womack took three long seconds to register the impossible feat and rescue by Tarn, regarding the baby chick swanette.

Tarn turned and replaced the baby chick down into the nest as it cooed and flapped both its wings in thankful appreciation. Then, he performed a Touch soar back down from the tree limb and touch landed deftly on both bent knees onto the rough ground, smiling with boyish satisfaction and glee.

Womack dropped down from the pon-pon in a blur, dashing then sliding on both knees over the rough ground, hugging his son, so tight from fright.

Tarn couldn’t breathe for one point two seconds, until wiggling away a set of free arms from Womack.

His dad pulled back with a smile of silence down at Tarn, since the esophagus was tight and restrained inside Womack, holding back a set of mixed and jumbled emotions.

Within the Touch experience, it was the first time that Tarn had ever probed into the mind of his dad, feeling love, concern, care, patience, kindness, and other mushy sensations all the way down into the nerve ending of his dad.

So, it was not ease to get passed the mental process of the High Master of Dihe.

 

 

Present day and place

 

Spinner of Womack and Tarn

Hours 20 and minutes 20

 

 

“You can fail.” Womack says with a smile his favorite intimidation line or threat or insult or whatever you want to label it. He does not encourage do or try, only failure.

Tarn frowns at the screen, “Puzzle, Dad? Okay, alright, if I wanted a nighttime unannounced rendezvous, I would sneak inside the shopping mall and then inside her royal suite and then surprise her.”

He nods with a grin, “Excellent idea! Even thou, I thought of it, first.”

Tarn frowns. “We’re discussing a set of possible theories for introductions here, not a kidnapping plot.”

“Who says?” He laughs with a nod.

Tarn slaps a chest with a grin. “Me.”

He exhales. “I am replaced by my son, an adequate second Prime.”

Tarn laughs. “If that’s all required to overthrow your high rank, then I accept, sir.”

He lifts an eyebrow at the screen. “I ponder about your underlying intentions, second Prime. Does your mother know about your high ambition?”

Tarn laughs. “She encouraged it.”

He grins. “I see. I must spend more time interrogating her underlying intentions with my tender intimate…”

“Ewe, Dad, not the…”

He laughs, “The what, son?”

Tarn rolls his eyeballs and his hands at the screen, “You know, the stuff?”

He smiles. “I assume that you are communicating your great dislike of boy-girl stuff.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t like boy-girl stuff. I just don’t like talking of boy-girl stuff with my too close and too personal relatives…”

“I’m your dad.”

“Exactly, right!”

He laughs. “Subject closed. The princess…”

“Dad, I have guessed your wickedly and mentally evil thoughtful thinking pretend plan. So, we are done here on Chamme, now. So, we go back home to Mercian and report our findings. Anyways, I do not like it, since it is too dangerous for me,” Tarn chuckles.

Womack stands from the chair with a smile and back steps, turning and moves to the closed door on the spinner. “Maybe, you could call your mom, it was her original idea?”

Tarn stands from the chair and drops open a mouth in silence, back stepping and turns, running behind the back spine of Womack.

Womack reaches over and grabs, lifting the bato and aims at the door, sending a white ejon beam at the solid metal.

The door slides upward and locks opens.

He struts down the ramp with a smirk and over the white soil in the evening hours of Chamme, moving toward the shopping mall in silence.

 

 

Hours 20 and minutes 26

Penthouse suite of Princess Parra

 

 

The shopping mall of Chamme reaches 506 floors of solid metal. The penthouse suit holds overflowing food and beverage items, covering each flat table surface in celebration of the Festival of Rights, honoring Princess Parra. Her apartment penthouse also holds her clothes and two persons.

Parra stands in the archway with a smile and holds both hands of Cotana. He smiles. She jerks his hands forward into her suite with a wink. “Thank you for coming so quickly to my rescue, Cotana. I enjoyed our private dancing, entertaining me, this eve. Please, come inside for one last toast of celebration…”

“I cannot, Parra.” He frowns. “You are supposed to be walking in the opposite direction toward your spinner. The Chamme officials insisted that all the bigger spinners be housed on top of the hanger bay. So, you will have an easy and smooth take-off within the later eve air. The fog gets thick and muddy during the shadow time from the lower temperatures…”

She jerks on both his hands again with a grin into her suite. He doesn’t move inside the archway. She smiles. “Come inside for one taste of the luscious dessert! It was really good, sweet and sugary tasting.”

He exhales. “I cannot, Parra.”

She leans over with a pout into his face. “Poo, we’re all alone here inside my private suite. There are no guards or warriors or chaperones, here. All the other nobles are being entertained down below the other hallways.”

He smiles. “We have twenty eight more lights and then we are married officially.” He leans down and kisses both her naked hands and then releases them. He bows at a fit waist and stands upright with a wink and a smile to Parra. “I will return within two flicks. I will instruct your pilot and your personal guard unit in preparation for your exit from Chamme. Please, rest your prettiness, until I return, princess.” She nods in silence with a smile. He back steps and swings around with a stern face, marching back down an empty corridor to the elevator doors

The doors open.

He enters the carriage.

The doors close swiftly.

Cotana couldn’t wave goodbye and leave fast enough from her.

Parra exhales with a puff of disappointment and back steps from the archway, closing the door in silence inside her penthouse suite.

 

 

Shopping mall

Laundry room setting

Hours 20 and minutes 41

Cold temperatures with green dwarf light

 

 

Womack and Tarn move around the shopping mall golden tinted building, avoiding the set of customer elevators, where the shoppers are selecting merchandise and find a set of service elevators for employees. They stand and wait for the carriage.

The door opens.

They enter the carriage. Womack carries the Touch projection, copying one of the Vilo warriors with a bald head and a set of four scars across the nose and the lips with ease from the morning parade of Vilo clan. He rides inside the service elevator without a set of other workers at the shopping mall.

The carriage moves up to the second floor, the laundry room.

Womack exits the carriage and scoots around the laundry tubs, picking up items with a smirk, handing the items to Tarn.

Tarn uses another Touch projection, painting the face and the exposed skin in the color of puke neon green for a second time.

Womack slams into the floating laundry tub with a chuckle, scooting around with a smile and then shoves the tub into the stomach of Tarn with a smirk. “Catch, Chamme transplant…”

Tarn turns to see the floating equipment piece with a grunt from the stomach collision with a sneer and reaches out, pulls the floating tub of clean towels into a chest. “Right, sir.”

Womack moves ahead and stands in front of the interior service elevator, where the employees watch and serve the guests inside the numerous sleeping compartments and reaches over, pressing the button with a smile.

The interior elevator door opens.

They enter into the new carriage without any additional workers from the shopping mall.

Tarn slows pushes the floating laundry tub toward the rear wall of the carriage and stops, standing in place behind the tub and struggles within the oversized hand gloves from the laundry room, a fake red hair piece from the desk of the supervisor, and the floating laundry tub. The laundry tub holds numerous columns of freshly laundered smelling good clean set of white towels, covering most of his Touch projection with a green colored face.

The Touch tells him so. Womack knows that the set of clean towels had been ordered by one of the Vilo staff members a few minutes ago from one of the many Vilo private sleeping units near the top of the building, where all the Vilo clan members are standing at the shopping mall. This is the place that he wants to see. However, he is not delivering the laundry tub of towels to the requested party.

Tarn and Womack are delivering the tube of towels to the room of Parra on the 506th penthouse floor.

Tarn exhales with nervousness. His wooden bato by order of Womack lives underneath the columns of clean towels, since his ejon color is white like Parra’s and Womack’s. Any observant Vilo warrior would question the wicked intent, the evil purpose, and the deadly weapon of second Prime Tarn.

He exhales with nervousness and taps on each handle bar of the floating laundry tub.

The freight elevator doors open on the side wall of the 506th floor.

He feels the cool welcoming air, drying the accumulated sweat balls that cover his forehead, both cheekbones, and all ten finger knuckles.

 

 

506th floor

Suite of Princess Parra

Hours 20 and minutes 49

 

 

The elevator door slides open.

Womack gingerly steps off the elevator first, standing a few inches into the hallway as the watchdog, scanning to the right and to the left with a whisper for the Tarn’s eardrums only. “The long hallway is empty of Chamme officials, the Ultimedia servants, and the Vilo warriors. A very good sign! Move it swiftly, Tarn!” He turns toward the suit of Parra and moves down the long hallway without echoing a set of noisy boot heels over the smooth mud-made purple tinted floor from the Touch.

Tarn shoves out and then turns the heavy tub of towels into the hallway, creating a Touch shield for protection, in case a Vilo warrior attacks the butthole of Tarn, following behind the fake tan colored knee boots of Womack.

The Touch tells him so. Womack stops and stands in front of the single door, closing the eyelids, probing inside the interior room. He finds one life form. Then, he reaches out and touches the door with the white ejon to heat and then unlatches the lock.

The door swings open.

 

 

Sleeping compartment of Princess Parra

 

 

Womack enters inside a few feet with a smile.

Tarn dashes across the mud floor with a grin and realizes that his boot heels are not making an annoying sound. The kidnapping plot is really working. He follows Womack inside and shoves the laundry tub toward the wall. The tub automatically halts its mechanism as a safety feature without damaging a piece of furniture property or a standing innocent person.

He removes and stows the oversized hand gloves inside the vest, not leaving any physical evidence of the dirty Dihe deed with a grin, touching the temple from dizzy pain. The outer room of furniture is decorated in swirling and twirling numerous colors. The numerous colors are giving him a headache.

Womack stands in the middle of the dizzy room of colors with a smile and a shout, “Princess?”

Tarn gasps with a smile of lust.

Parra enters from the private bedroom sleeping room and illuminates the dizzy room with her beautiful presence and is dressed in a sapphire blue top and a matching paneled skirt. Her crystal bato hangs low and tied on a right hip. She stops behind the sofa and tilts a chin at the warrior with a puzzled brow, “Aruna, has Prince Cotana come back from his meeting?”

He nods with a grin, “Yes, follow me, princess!” Womack extends a hand with a smile. She extends a hand with a smile for the personal escort. He flips the hand upright and grabs her wrist with a gasp, blinking his eyelids and then releases her wrist.

Parra gasps with fear and then shuffles backward from the unknown male Vilo-looking warrior.

“What’s wrong?” Tarn rushed to stand beside Womack with a gasp and a shout. Womack losses the Touch projection and morphs back into his natural humanoid state of tone of pale tinted skin and a head of black colored hair, “Dad?” Tarn reaches out with worry and slaps the collar bone of Womack with a distorted brow, shaking the body frame of his dad, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

She dances backward and stares at the two unknown males, reaching over and grabs the bato for the battle, “Aruna? Cotana?”

Tarn turns with a gasp and Touch leaps into the air, hitting low at her shuffling legs, slapping her bato free. Parra lands on top of the floor. Tarn crawls over her body and covers her mouth with a hand. She jabs a set of fingernails, both hands, and both sandals as projectiles the body parts of the teen male. Tarn holds a hand over her mouth and his longer and stronger body over her slenderness, keeping Parra on the floor, saying with a smile. “Dad, we got her. What next, Dad?”

Womack exhales with a huff of confusion and shakes a skull with a gasp, awakening from the dream and falls down, sliding onto both kneecaps toward Tarn and Parra. Then, he extends a hand and reaches over, gently placing an index finger over her forehead, performing a Touch sleep on her active mind.

Parra struggles side to side with loud grunts and then slowly slumps each body part down into the thick carpet, closing her eyelashes into a Touch sleep by Womack.

Tarn exhales with relieve and a smile, resting over her semi-naked body with a chuckle at her pretty face.

Womack leans back and reaches down, jerking Tarn from Parra with a growl of fury.

Tarn flies backward from Parra and rolls sideway into the side table, knocking over the food items from the flat surface, performing a Touch flash toward the forward the wall and away from the falling food items with a chuckle. He Touch lands on fours (his palms and his kneecaps) with a grin.

Womack reaches down and grabs her bato, lifting and stores it inside a vest pocket for safe keeping with a growl to Tarn, “Get the bag, now! I need to check her sub-conscious for any injuries.” He leans over Parra and softly probes her temple and her forehead with an ejon index finger of white, seeing a sleeping princess with a smile in silence.

Tarn stands upright and runs forward, stopping and stands in place with a huff of annoyance. With Touch, he lifts each column of clean towels with a wiggle of fingers. His wooden bato appears on the bottom of the tub base and lifts into the air like magic. He reaches out and grabs the bato, dropping it on the floor by the boot toes.

Tarn lifts an arm and wiggles his fingers, performing a Touch lower of each column of clean towels back down into the deep tub and squats, slamming open the bottom door cabinet, pulling out a long laundry sack. The sack is tall and wide that used to hold a noble fancy dress gown for laundry cleaning from one of the Vilo warriors. Tarn slowly stands and gathers the fabric of the sack, grabbing the bato and quickly punches a set of tiny breathing holes into the tender cloth with the sharp tip of my bato. He stands upright and moves toward Parra, squatting beside Womack.

Womack and Tarn use the sharp tip of the bato and Touch punch out numerous tiny holes into the soft fabric, so Parra could breathe during the short term sleepy state, before the three of them enter the freight service elevator for the kidnapping escape from the penthouse suite.

They finish creating the tiny holes.

Womack stands upright and moves back from Parra, pointing the bato and releasing a white ejon ray on her body, slowly lifting an unconscious Parra a few inches in the air above the carpet.

Tarn continues to squat and tosses the bato onto the sofa, shuffling the long sack over her floating body and face. The sack completely covers her and her gown. He ties the end of the sack into a big pretty bow with a chuckle.

Womack moves forward and shoves Tarn from the floating sack, rubbing the bato over his face and his body. He turns green colors within both the exposed face and hands and squats on the floor, lifting the long sack over a shoulder like a Chamme laundry worker with a stern face. “Don’t forget the stinky towels on the bottom of the tub. We are working the late shift, Tarn.”

Tarn rolls sideways with a smile from the shove of Womack and lands sideways on the palms, turning and wiggles his fingers, calling the bato into a hand from the sofa. The bato jumps from the sofa and into one hand. He reaches over and stores it inside the vest for safekeeping with a nod, standing upright, moving to the hovering laundry tub. He reached underneath the tub and flip open the bottom door with a boot toe. With touch, Tarn lifts all the wet and stinky towels, settling them on top of the clean ones with a sneer of disgust and a cough of bad odor.

Womack slowly spins around and moves toward the door with a stern face, “You take lead, Tarn. Watch for any Chamme or Vilo, until we get into the elevator carriage.”

Tarn exhales with a huff of worry and kicks the laundry tub toward the closed archway with a boot heel in the lead, shoving and smelling the disgusting and smelly body towels. He had to retrieve a set of the dirty wet towels by his Touch from one of the used and abused refresher stations on the lower floor before visiting the sweet suite of Parra.

The stinky refresher station belonged to the nasty body guards of Parra that was collected from a personal chamber suite on the lower hallway floors.

The laundry tub hits the metal archway.

The door opens automatically from the shove of an object.

Tarn reaches over and grabs the oversized gloves again, placing over both naked hands of green in case of finger prints misplacement, leading through the archway and out the sleeping suite with a sour frown and a cough of disgust.

Womack follows behind and carries the sack over a shoulder with a stern face.

 

 

Hallway

 

 

Tarn frowns then coughs and finally grunts, pushing the heavy laundry tub of stinky towels toward the elevator and stops, standing in front of the closed doors, reaching over and slaps the button with a covered fingernail. Finger prints can be tracked and traced back to Tarn.

The elevator doors open.

Womack doesn’t use his bato and his ejon talent, either. Since, the entire upper floors of the shopping mall are filled with Vilo warriors, wearing a set of different colored ejon nails and matching bato that really work and injury, especially on the two ugly and disguised Dihe warriors.

Tarn shoves the laundry tub into the rear of the carriage without hitting the rear wall and stops, standing behind the metal with a sour frown.

Womack moves inside and stands beside Tarn, spinning around and faces the front of the carriage, watching for any suspicious Vilo guards.

The elevator doors close in silence.

 

 

Hours 20 and minutes 55

Elevator setting

Cold temperatures with green dwarf light

 

 

Tarn, Womack, and a hidden Parra ride the elevator down to the ground in silence and swiftness of the late hour at night on Chamme.

The elevator doors open.

Womack exits from the elevator carriage first and slowly moves from the shopping mall toward the garage building within the green light of the dwarf star.

Tarn leaves the dirty laundry tub and the set of used worker clothes inside the tub, back stepping and swiftly spins around, skipping ahead and pulls up beside Womack with a smile.

They casually stroll over the pavement inside a thick white fog like a couple of tired shopping mall workers, returning home for the late night shift. They follow the footpath toward the hanger bay, where the spinner sits lazy and cold.

Womack whispers. “Tarn, fall back behind me! Watch for any Chamme workers who might be accidentally or purposefully tailing us for any good or bad reason. I will increase my pace toward the opening of the hanger garage and our spinner. You just continue to follow like you’re really tired and walking toward your individual spinner. This hanger bay is used by both the shoppers and the workers. I noticed that the worker home structures were located far behind the shopping mall. They gotta travel to work like me, too. And I don’t see any ground docking spaces for a single spinner, either. Since, the thick fog would cause lots of accidents and harms.”

Tarn falls backward a couple of feet from the back spine of Womack in silence, looking at the white soil which is really green or something weird that his mind couldn’t comprehend.

Womack moves ahead through the entrance portal in the center of the hanger bay and halts, standing in front of the elevator, waiting with the other workers. Tarn stops a few feet from the back spine of Womack like a tired worker, too.

A couple of Chamme workers stop and stand in front of elevator, looking down with a blank face at the white dirt from working inside the shopping mall or the sleeping hallways of the new guests.

Tarn stares at the back spine of Womack with a confused brow and a whisper for his eardrums, only, shaking his curls. “What the dack?” He turns and scans the back spines of each Chamme worker, feeling their exhaustion through the Touch.

The elevator doors open.

Womack enters first with the long sack over a shoulder, sliding into the wall corner, out of the way.

Tarn moves inside and stands on the opposite wall corner of Womack with a blank face.

The other two Chamme worker enter and spin around, facing the white fog and the open archway in the middle of the elevator carriage without talking.

The door closes, making the carriage pitch black dark.

Tarn gasps in surprise and exhales with a huff of relief, calming the nerves. Through his Touch, he can see each Chamme worker. Each one punches the wall within a certain spot in silence, where a spinner is located. Then, he realizes that each Chamme worker is connected to the golden tinted metal wall somehow, using some type of weird eye and hand combination.

The carriage swiftly shifts upward toward each level.

Tarn sees one of the Chamme workers punch the upper section of the wall.

The elevator stops.

One Chamme worker exits the elevator.

The door closes. The elevator lifts upward and then stops.

The other Chamme worker moves off the elevator.

The door closes.

Tarn frowns at the closed door, “Dad?”

The Touch tells him so. “Shh!” Womack closes the eyelids and Touch probes the upper levels of the hanger garage as the elevator zooms to the top level, without stopping.

His gently Touch mind detects a few tired Chamme workers, who are talking and laughing about some humor incident at work, two floors up. He detects three floors up, some late night shoppers, loading packages into a spinner, preparing for home. His Touch mind moves swiftly toward the top hanger bay, feeling no other life forms present. He doesn’t use the ability of Touch see on any type of mechanical robot, either. He grins with amusement.

Tarn exhales with a huff of frustration inside the darkness of the carriage. “Can I talk, now?”

“Yes, Tarn.”

He tosses both arms in the air which cannot be seem by a pair of naked eyeballs. “Where are going? We parked downstairs over the white or green or whatever funny colored dirt. Do you remember, Dad?”

The elevator halts and then the doors open.

Chapter Fifteen

Parra

 

 

Hours 21 and minutes 12

Spinner station rooftop setting

Cool temperatures with bright green dwarf light

 

 

Tarn gasps with shock and slowly moves through the archway, seeing a row of big shiny spinners.

Womack shuffles the heavy sack of Parra onto the other collar bone with a grin and a whisper into the Touch eardrums of Tarn. “Turn to your right, walk down to the spinner at the very end.”

Tarn turns and leads with a smile, strutting down the row to the last parked spinner like a visitor, turning to survey with a confused brow the rest of the big ships that are displayed in a horizontal row. The top portion of the hanger garage does not house a rooftop, exposing the shiny metal to the wet droplets, making the silver tinted sparkle within the green light. “Those are much bigger than ours,” he swings around and moves backward with a gasp, “Hey, we…”

“Yes.” Womack carries an unconscious Parra over a shoulder inside the laundry bag using about eighty percent of his Touch as an elderly man compared to youthful Tarn. “We are walking in the right direction, son. We take the last ship at the end of the row.”

He swings around with a confused brow and a chuckle and skips ahead toward the big spinner. “O, the last one, that’s smart, Dad. It’s all alone by itself, not touching the side metal of another spinner.”

The Touch tells him so. Womack smiles with a grunt of the heavy weigh over an older shoulder. “Our great big new super duper starship, I purchased for our trip back home.” Tarn stops and stands beside the spinner in front of the walking ramp and the closed archway with a confused brow, admiring the spinner. Womack halts beside Tarn in front of the sealed hatchway entrance portal of a strange spinner and wiggles out the bato from the vest, igniting the ejon within his fingers. As the whiteness hits the hatchway, the entrance portal smoothly and silently glides upward into the slot with a narrow hallway without a guard. He chuckles with a grin. “Go and start the engines, Tarn! This ship uses ejon power, too.”

Tarn leaps onto the walking ramp and skips over the metal corridor toward the cabin.

Womack slowly moves up the ramp with a smile as the ramp retreats and the portal door smoothly glides down into the slot for space traveling.

 

 

Cockpit cabin

 

 

The Touch tells him so. Tarn stops and stands in the middle of a circular cockpit, twirling around in a circle with a grin of excitement. “Dad, this ain’t like our ship. It looks like our old ugly spinner here inside the cockpit, but there’re two more spinners kinda attached and welded to the outside hull. I like this ship. Are we stealing it? Are we really taking it back to Mercian with us? Can I have it when we return home for my very own spinner? What will Mom say about stealing a Vilo ship, Dad?”

Womack enters the cockpit section with the laundry sack over a shoulder with a grunt. “Please, start the engine and get us out of here, before the vicious Vilo clan figures out that we have kidnapped the princess and stolen her nice ride.” He moves to the side archway, leading into the first pod.

The luxury spinner contains three pods, overlaying into the center pod or the cockpit section. The right pod contains a single chamber room for eating and sleeping in elegant pretty lavender colors with silk and satin furnishings.

The left pod consists of a set of smaller rooms that are broken up into a single eating room with three separate sleeping rooms for three Vilo body guards. The Vilo pilot always sits inside the seat of the pilot console, driving the spinner around Intragalaxy.

“O yeah, alright, that’s a really good plan.” Tarn spins around and moves ahead, sliding down into the single chair in front of the viewer screen window. The viewer screen window circles the hollow cylinder that contains the array of invisible charged ions which provides the motion of the starship. He taps on the button, activating and then rotating the cold ions, gathering them from the air currents. Then, the bottom panel ignites in heat.

Tarn feels the ions blow up and down inside the hollow cylinder, slapping the console counter with both hands in a happy musical rhyme upon finding the Vilo warriors and capturing the Vilo princess. His mom Maries will be very overjoyed, but maybe not the rest of Dihe clan. He studies the driving console that is a duplicate of the old Dihe spinner with a worried brow and a gasp. “Dad, we left behind the hard physical ugly evidence our old spinner inside the hanger garage here on Chamme. We will be identified but not captured.”

Womack returns back into the circular cockpit section, advancing to one of the recording stations.

There are three recording stations. One is located in front of the pilot console that is blinded by the tall cylinder. The other two stations are slightly perpendicular to the pilot console for a brief and sweet communication of any trouble or a new datum encounter.

Each station holds a wall monitor for communications with live interactions, coming from natives or robots that living on other planets or information from the internal data banks for recording new datum or getting out of trouble within Intragalaxy. Below the wall monitor, there is a table for working and a chair for sitting. There is a circular portal above the wall monitor, out of reach for any type of normal ship and passenger operations, unless you plan to steal the spinner. The circular portal is standard on all spinners, even the Vilo ones.

Womack lifts and inserts the slender rounded tip of his bato into the rounded circle with a smile. “It doesn’t matter, Tarn. Once they input their Vilo ejon into the old machine portal, it will blow or it will melt or it might just die. Our rust buckets are pretty ancient and old compared to this baby,” chuckling.

Tarn feels the heated ions blow up and down inside the hollow cylinder but can’t see the invisible ions, saying with a sour frown. “Dad, I think it’s great that we stealing a Vilo spinner. But, it ain’t programmed with Dihe data. Wane, that’s brilliant, Dad! We steal both the spinner machine and the data banks information. Good thinking, Dad!”

Womack exhales with a huff of annoyance, “Get moving, Tarn!”

He nods with a chuckle, “Dack!” He presses both hands over the smooth glass plate and emits whiteness of the ejon. The spinner slowly lifts up from the concrete platform, since it is ejon-driven like the old Dihe spinner. The pilot console is devoid of a maneuvering stick or a pressing button. There is one button for switching the ions free into the cylinder. Therefore, the bottom circle does not twirl with power from the ions. The Toucher drives the spinner from take-off, into flight, and then lands with both his hands of ejon or both his feet of ejon over the smooth glass plate.

Womack pumps white ejon through his bato into the portal as the Vilo data banks fry, without the smell or the sizzle. The data banks of a spinner runs with one set of electronic instructions, whether Dihe or Vilo or Mercian or another species culture. The Vilo spinner will not accept the ejon instructions from Womack’s bato, since it is programmed with ejon from the Vilo pilot. Therefore, Womack is destroying the Vilo data.

Tarn steers with a confused brow. “Dad, how can I be operating a Vilo spinner with your ejon? I thought a spinner was crafted with one set of instructions from the Vilo pilot, who ain’t me or here.”

Womack grins. “You are correct, Tarn. I’m currently destroying all the Vilo patterns with my bato as you drive…”

“Dad, you’re ruining our stolen goods in here, now, foreverly.” Tarn stands from the chair and flings both arms over a skull. The spinner drops by ten feet within half a millisecond. “Dack, the big fall fast.” He sits back down and slid both hands over the glass plate. The spinner lifts again and soars above the building cones, and then into the green lighted stratosphere.

Womack continues to hold onto the heated bato inside the portal hole and destroys the Vilo data and then replaces with his ejon power with a chuckle. “You left my stomach behind with that slick maneuver, Tarn. Thank goodness! This is an ejon ride allowing an ejon user to drive the spinner, whether big or stolen. You’re very perceptive with your pilot’s skill. I’m impressed, Tarn. A spinner is programmed specifically for the pilot or the pilot’s related ejon during peace time, of course. Within the Dihe clan, every Dihe pilot has loaded a sampling of their individual ejon into the portal each spinner, without the tiny fleet of ships for Dihe business. Since, this is peace time, of course. You can drive the stolen ship, but we can’t communicate with Mercian, without my ejon instructions. Or the enemy might find and spank our tails. I must destroy the Vilo pattern and replace with the Dihe signature…”

“Dack, Dad, I could’ve been a hero upon our return.”

Womack completes the Dihe pattern and removes the bato with a smile, spinning around and replacing the bato back into the vest and moves to one of the chairs on the curved wall across from the pilot. He sat and stares with a smile at the nose profile of Tarn. “We captured a Vilo princess. I do believe that your solo brave effort will be recognized and rewarded.”

Tarn steers with a smile. “Mom’s going to be happy, too. Do we hang the princess by both her wrists and ankles within the middle of the outpost? Do we own body bar?”

Womack frowns at the nose profile of Tarn. “No. We do not own a body bar. Where did you learn about that terrible torturous device? You’re doing a good job sailing even with the extra tonnage of the metal and persons.”

Tarn shuffles both hands over the glass plate with a snigger, guiding the spinner over the space river, using the charged ions inside the cylinder. “ECU center, I read my ancient history. A long, long time ago, the humans of Mercian used a body bar on a criminal as both punishment of public display and torture of the personal nature. The body bar stretched the arms at the wrist bones and at the ankle bones or the equivalent of a species, until the criminal pleaded for mercy or died of something, a very primitive and effective weapon of destruction…”

“The body bar is absolutely positively outlawed by the Dihe clan, since 29,000 years ago. I must re-program the ECU cylinder and remove that old historical text. It’s polluting the minds of the children.”

Tarn does not toss both hands, since the spinner will fall down into the neon blue river or plow down into one of the red toxin puddles. He watches the viewer screen window with a smile. “Okay, okay, it is extreme, Dad. So, what we going to do with the princess? Ransom her back for shives? Are the Vilo warriors rich? Is the Dihe clan rich?”

Womack smiles at the nose profile of Tarn. “Yes, I plan to ransom her to the Vilo.”

“Mom will be most pleased to hear about your new Dihe decision.”

Womack grins. “Yes, I plan to ransom her to the Vilo for peace.”

He steers the spinner with a puzzled brow and watches the screen. “Mom will not be pleased, Dad. Take over, okay?” He lifts both hands from the glass plate. The spinner falls a few feet. Womack stands with urgency and dashes, sliding both hands over the glass plate with a sour frown, scooting into the pilot chair in silence.

Tarn side steps from the chair and dashes around the console, sliding inside a chair on the front recording station, slapping the button for power with a snigger and a grin. The electronic keyboard ignites inside the glass plate. He accesses the Dihe data banks, typing and humming with a big grin on the glass.

Womack flips the switch that is hidden and located underneath the pilot seat for such a spying mission. The viewer screen window changes from the blue space river and black outer space into the rear blonde hair roots and back chair of Tarn. “What are you doing, Tarn?”

Tarn types with a chuckle and a nod. “I am proudly preparing my official scouting report to Koos. He told me to report my findings plus explain my technique of spying, so he can teach it to the other Primes. I’m going to be the superstar Prime of the century with this awesome find. I rhymed within the time of…”

“Do not…” Womack shuffles both hands over the plate going around another red radiation puddle with the Touch. The spinner glides over the space river without eyesight or an instrument. “Do not include Parra’s name inside your official scouting report to Koos, Tarn!”

He stop typing with a confused brow, “Why not, Dad? She’s the ‘bestest’ of my findings along with stealing a Vilo luxury princess spinner. I’m going to be a hero and really popular and really super wane…”

“Do not.”

He tosses both hands into the air with a sour frown and returns both hands down to the glass with a nod. “Dack, okay, alright, I leave her name out of my written report. But, I warn you. Everyone will learn really fast of her presence soon on Mercian along with the pretty and illegal Vilo spinner, Dad. And Mom is not going to be happy about the entire situation, either.”

“Why not, son? We personally have proven the existence of the Vilo society and the Vilo warriors. She couldn’t be greatly disappointed. Her theory was correct, all along.”

 

 

Sleeping unit of Princess Parra

 

 

Parra blinks her eyelashes open to see the metal ceiling of silver and sits upright, folding at a fit waist on top of her personal sofa, recognizing her private chamber, which is inside her luxury ship. She closes her eyelashes, feeling the Touch of two more bodies inside the cabin.

The two bodies are heated, human-kin, and hold ejon with a much greater degree than her three personal body guards.

She gasps with a whisper. “I have been both ambushed and kidnapped, not by the ugly rat people, either.” She stands from the sofa and slaps both hands over the fancy gown. Her personal bato is missing. So, she has been robbed, too. She lifts the hands and straightens a messy hair and then a crooked gown from the dinner gala, stomping forward on a pair of sandal heels in angry through the suite and stands with a sour frown at the archway.

The kidnappers might possess ejon, but she is the greatest Toucher of the Vilo warriors and a Vilo princess, to boot. She grinds her teeth with a nod.

 

 

Cockpit cabin

 

 

Parra stands inside the middle of the archway with a gasp at the young teen kidnapper. He sits at the recording station, typing on the electronic keyboard, ignoring her angry and her presence.

Womack chuckles at the interior camtube within the cockpit cabin. Tarn sits and types. Parra stands and fumes. He glides the spinner and tilts it to the side, avoiding another red puddle.

Parra shuffles forward in shock and slams into the back spine of Tarn with a gasp.

Something hits Tarn with force. Then, the chair and Tarn plows into the curved wall with a warm body inside his lap. He hugs the warm body and smells her fragrance with both arms and a frown, “Dack, you…”

Parra sits between his legs with a frown of embarrassment.

Tarn chuckles with excitement. “Wane, I like it, right here.”

Parra shoves both hands from his body and Touch shoves from his lap with a lady grunt.

The chair and Tarn violently rolls backward toward the opposite side of the room as he flings both arms and legs into the air with a yell of surprise. The chair hits the wall, tossing Tarn out and onto the floor.

Parra stands upright with a laugh and a smile at the young kidnapper. Tarn grunts and growls over the floor in angry and pain. Then, she back pedals and turns with a gasp, running toward her suite. Tarn crawls forward on both hands and both boot toes with a snarl and stands upright, dashing after her and leaps in the air, landing on her back spine and her cute fanny inside the narrow hallway of her suite. They slide forward over the slick floor and halt. Tarn pants into her eardrum with a grunt, “Captured your pretty hair, again, princess! I’m Dihe. You’re Vilo. Let’s see what you got, Your Highmarkness!”

Parra bends into a U-shape and rocks forward, bucking Tarn from her back spine. He flies forward deeper into her suite. Parra stands upright with a lady sneer and leaps into the air with a lady growl, posing into a folded fighting stance and reaches over and grabs the waistline, missing her bato. She lifts both hands with her Touch, releasing a stream of invisible wind currents and grabs the nightstand lamp, flinging it at his back spine.

Tarn feels the invader from the rear end with a curse and spins around and away from the wall, reaching over and pulls out the bato. He lifts the bato to protect a face and punches, breaking the lamp into three pieces, sailing it up and back into her pretty but distorted face. Tarn spins and aims the tip of the bato into her direction.

Parra leaps into the air and out of the way of the approaching ejon ray, hitting the wall near the ceiling with a lady grunt.

His bato flame of whiteness hits the floor, where Parra had stood.

She performs a Touch drop and a Touch land on the floor, dropping down below the bed frame with a lady growl.

His eardrums tell him so. Inside the cabin, Womack steers the spinner with a sour frown and a yell from the pilot seat. “You, two kids, quit destroying the ship, before I put both of ya’ll in time out. Tarn, obey your old man!”

Tarn follows her movement and frowns with fury at the bed covers, storing the bato into the vest with a grunt at her, swinging around and exits into the cockpit with a sissy whine, “Dad?”

Parra exhales with a puff of fury, not having her bato for a fight with a powerful Toucher on board her royal ship, since she could cream the teen dub. She stands upright with a sour frown and straightens the gown and the hair, moving ahead with a fake smile, stopping and stands inside the archway for a second time.

Womack leans over the pilot console with a smile to see Parra, “Welcome aboard, princess!”

She says with a stern face to Womack. “I am a member of the Vilo Society, home of the Vilo lord, lady and Shade…”

Tarn stops and turns, standing in front of the recording station, crossing both biceps with a sour frown and a sneer at Parra, “Vilo lord, lady, and Shade, I thought that the word ‘shade’ was a dull shadow of Vilo blood on my…yeah.”

Womack steers the spinner with a chuckle, “Ah, the sound of sweet surrender! So, peace exists once again within Intragalaxy. Tarn, show Parra around the ship, please?”

Tarn uncrosses both biceps and bends at both kneecaps and performs a Touch jump to the ceiling with a smile and a Touch land onto the metal floor, bouncing on both boot toes with a chuckle to her. “You might be feeling the pressure of gravity at a high altitude or maybe a low altitude, but felt no difference in the air. It’s invisible to the eyeballs,” he spins around in a completed circle and poses in front of Parra with a wicked smile. “This is called the atomic world that is filled with atoms which is invisible to me and you…”

Womack exhales with a huff of annoyance and steers the spinner. “I didn’t say a science lesson.”

Parra frowns with annoyance, “The best finite mind in Intragalaxy, I presume not.”

Tarn points to the wall with a chuckle with a smile to her. “Hey, I call our galaxy, Intragalaxy, too. It’s a small place…”

“A small place, here, too,” she frowns at him.

Womack exhales. “Why don’t you tour the ship with Parra like a Dihe gentleman? Since, she’s our special guest, Tarn.”

Tarn grunts with a smile, “A tour of the ship? Good idea!” He points each object with a chuckle from the recording station. “Chair, table, second chair, second table, third chair, third table MEX…”

Parra jabs a finger at the recording station with a smile. “You, vile Dihe cannot access our…”

MEX is the Dihe named recording station on the wall. The screen activates with an array of bright illumination. It drones without a picture. “What is your request, second Prime Tarn?” It displays a series of red and blue horizontal lines for a speech pattern or morphs into an image with a visual request.

Parra gasps in shock, touching her throat. Tarn smiles at her long slender fingers. She frowns. “What? How? What?”

Tarn back pedals and slaps a hand over the wall screen with a smile and a nod. “MEX is a recording station of words, sentences, events, and such-like. But, I guess the real question, not falling from your precious soft pink lips, why does your recording station respond to my voice, Your Highmarkness. That is, because my dad used his bato.” He reaches over and pulls the bato, wiggling in the air with a smile. “My dad destroyed the alien programming and then replaced with the proper Dihe programs. So, the wall camtube is working.” Tarn stares at her. She stares at Tarn.

Tarn thinks that she is pretty and different from any other female species-kind that he has met on planet Mercian or any one of his quick voyagers to one of the local planets on the other side of Intragalaxy. He frowns with a chuckle, “You look like a pon-pon that I once owed as young kid.”

MEX displays a running beast on the screen with a mechanic drone. “Pon-pon, a four legged, smelly running small farm beast on…”

“Off, MEX,” Womack exhales and rolls both eyeballs, viewing the camtube screen, watching the teens for an upcoming fight with shared blood.

MEX drones in a mechanic tone. “Your request has been received. I am terminating, High Master Dihe Womack.”

Womack lifts a hand with Touch and rolls two chairs on the opposite side of the pilot console and the recording station with a new order. “Sit down, kids! The radiation puddles are both thick and numerous here along this spam of the space river. I do not want any bloody body parts, without a legitimate excuse. I went to a lot of trouble, stealing this vessel for our ride back home to Mercian.”

Parra exhales with a puff of annoyance and strolls forward from the archway, stopping and pressing the gown underneath the legs, sitting down inside the locked rolling chair. She stares at the far wall, not at the teen dub with a blank face.

Tarn stands from the rolling chair and turns, circling her rolling chair with a chuckle, staring down at her cream colored hair roots. “What color is your skin? You’re not red like Moro or gold like Koos or pale like me or…”

Parra gasps. The teen is a Dihe warrior and pretty okay with his bato. Since, her protection bato has been robbed along with her princess spinner. However, she didn’t know that any Dihe clan members existed, within Intragalaxy, who were known as the arch-rival enemies of the Vilo, a long time ago, before her birth.

His vile sub-species of Dihe clan are lower than micros inside a sanitation commode, a hand sink, and a body basin all combined within her clean princess tun.

Parra does not understand her mixed emotions toward the teen dub besides being cute in a teen kind of way with a mouth of straight teeth, a nice smile, and a set of lean muscles. However, his low intelligence leaves a bad taste of tar inside her mouth. She exhales with a puff of annoyance and a lady sneer. “My skin has attained the hue color for the regenerative healing properties of the epidermis when…”

“You are called a liver spot, huh?” He continues to encircle her hair roots and her chair with more excited energy.

Parra stiffens a body with a sour frown. The idiom is a very deep rude insult which invites immediate harm with a possible death strike, utilizing her killing bato to the speaking party or parties, as such.

Womack scratches a neck and rolls the eyeballs with a worried brow, steering the spinner back to Mercian. “Let’s not repeat that delicate Dihe description, again, Tarn!”

He turns with a smile and stares at the pilot console with a snigger, not seeing Womack, moving around her hair roots and her chair, “Liver spot, why not, Dad?”

Parra eye burns a set of invisible fire balls without her Touch into the legs of the fiery teen Dihe, not melting his muscular frame.

Tarn continues to move around her chair with a smile and stare down at her hair roots. “Never met a liver spot, before? I thought you were foretold to be creepy and ugly. You’re not ugly, maybe a little creepy. Hey, my eyesight can survive your dull or bright coloring. What color hue among the pinwheel are you anyways, this tinted something? I see some light brown mixed with highlights of lots of yellow tints in your skin…”

“Tarn,” Womack glides both hands over the glass plate and avoids numerous radiation puddles with a sour frown and a matching tone.

Tarn grins down at her hair roots. “That’s wane! You see the word wane means cool, good, okay. But, you’re more to me the word dack…”

“…is going to get you whacked by your father, Tarn. That particular word choice is not very nice for a princess or a prime.” Womack exhales with a huff of annoyance and sails over more puddles, flying down the space river.

Tarn turns and stands down with a frown inside the rolling chair, staring with a smile at her. “Okay, Dad.”

“Tarn, show Parra our side of Intragalaxy?” Womack steers the spinner with a sour frown.

“Good idea, Dad! Since, you are the prisoner and I am the capturer,” chuckles Tarn, “MEX!”

She points at the wall with a gasp. “That is MEX. A…”

“Machine exchange unit,” Tarn and Parra say at the same time, staring at each other.

She gasps with a frown. “You steal our technology, Dihe.”

Tarn shakes his curls with a sour frown. “You steal our knowledge, Vilo!”

MEX clicks on and displays a set of numerous red and blue lines of speech patterns. “I am activated, second Prime Tarn.”

Tarn smiles, “Show us, the compound of Mercian.” The screen changes into a set of short and tall wooden buildings. He leans over and slaps the screen with a smile. “Okay. This is where I live. This is Dihe Outpost Number…” He points at her with a smile and a laugh, shaking his curls. “O, O, O no! I shouldn’t give away too many secrets to the warrior princess. The Dihe clan has hundreds…”

She crosses both biceps with a grin. “O, you can count up to that great big number of one hundred. I am not impressed, second Prime Tarn-it.”

He likes her arrogant princess attitude with a wink and slaps the screen again. “This is my house, where I eat, sleep and poop, every night. Your liver colored skin is really different sorta like the color of brown. Do you poop brown out your…yeah?”

“Tarn!” Womack yells with a sour frown from behind the hidden console and sails the spinner.

He rolls back and forth with both boot heels and a wink at her. “Or is your nose stuck up your…yeah?”

“Tarn!” Womack yells, again.

He slaps the screen with a chuckle. “This is the ECU, where the young kids learn about Intragalaxy. This is the REC, where we play fun games and music and dance and have a good time, but not you. Now, this is the MEC center, where we keep prisoners of war inside this….”

She smiles. “You express like a tiny Trist your sentences, using your very limited capital letter vocabulary. So, you spell the letters, not saying any great big words.”

He tosses both hands in the air with a growl at her. “I got two great big words to say to you, princess. Cu…”

“Tarn!” Womack growls.

She points at the screen with a smile. “Is that a tun?”

Tarn gasps. “Tun, is that a new Vilo warrior princess word?” He turns and smiles at the console that hides his dad Womack. “Dad, we just got a Vilo secret, slap the camtubes and cammics to power for docking this historical unprecedented event,” laughing.

Parra frowns with annoyance, pushing the chair away from the teen dub. Her long dress gets caught inside one of the single wheels. She continues to shove the chair from Tarn without success.

“Tarn, please play nice!” Womack shifts both hands over the glass plate with a sour frown and flies as fast as Dihe possible, before a civil war breaks out inside the spinner.

He leans over and grabs her chair, stopping the motion, leaning down and rips off the torn and captured fabric part of her fancy gown. She lifts and drags the dress hem with a gasp, showing off her legs. Tarn observes every single skin molecule of her legs and her body with a grunt and a chuckle. “Wow, warrior princess! No escaping from me, now! We’re in flight. So well, come on and give it up, warrior princess. Your secret’s safe with me,” he leans over into her chair with a wink and a sweet breath into her face. “Well, your secret is more safer with my dad. He doesn’t share any legal or illegal exchanges.”

Parra raises one of her creamy white eyebrow in defiance.

Tarn finds the movement cute with a wink and a chuckle. “I plan to sell all your stinky Vilo datum that I can accumulate for megatons of shives. Shives are called money on my home world of Mercian, where I’m come from. But, you didn’t know that until now. So, I can buy a new…”

“Tarn,” Womack steers over the river of time, traveling over 2,500 miles per hour, before another Intragalaxy war occurs.

Parra shoves Tarn from a face and gently shuffles the rolling chair away from him, without getting another violent reaction from the dub. “Tun, a landmass that is concentrated with many Vilo species, where they work, live, and play.”

He winks with a chuckle, “You like to play, Your Highmark?”

Parra entertains the teen dub, until she can figure out an escape ploy. “Some of the ancient species use the term, village, town, city…”

He nods. “We use the phase outpost for the Dihe dwelling, because we hang out and post. Get it!”

“No,” she frowns.

He laughs, “Dack, are you kin to the doofur then?” She drops open a mouth then closes it. He enjoy watching her every motion, feeling within his Touch her physical, mental, and metaphysical reaction to his uncouth remarks.

Her beautiful violet eyes widen and then turn deep purple as she narrows a pair of thick eyelashes, flinging her mixed charged hate feelings within the air currents. Then, the pulsating vein on her swan neck arches with angry. She doesn’t know the proper academic definitions of the Mercian nouns, but feels thrilling excitement from the teen male. Since, he just insulted her like a toddler, stealing cookies. She stares an array of invisible sunbursts at Tarn, keeping silent.

He snorts with a smile, “Hey, warrior princess!”

She exhales. “That is not my proper addressment.”

He thumbs the wall corner for his fun and her annoyance. “Then, warrior princess, Parra, Your Highmark, you need to brush up on the galaxy history while coasting with us. Camtubes are aft. That’s left side, down there.”

She exhales. “I must reiterate that I am an unwilling disinclined participate and do not desirous any additional continuous voyages, coasting with your presence.” She stands from the chair and hears another rip from the dress with a sigh, swinging around with a sour frown from the teen dub, moving ahead and enters the sleep suite. The door gently closes and unlocked.

“She’s got good word length with some serious sensory depth.” Tarn rolls back and forth inside the chair with a laugh and a nod.

Womack wipes a tired face with one hand and a sour frown. “Where is Nimtarts when I need him to reign over your teen adolescent?”

Tarn turns with a sour frown to see the console that hides Womack. “You don’t like Nimtarts.”

Womack sails the spinner with a grin. “Your mother and I do not approve of his teen behavior but that gifted first Prime keeps you in line, Tarn.”

He turns with a smile and slaps a chest, rolling the chair side to side, staring at the closed door of the princess. “Because, he gets tied and towed first while I watch, listen, and learn.”

Womack frowns. “Are you learning, now, Tarn?”

He reaches up and scratches the temple with a couple of ejon fingernails, dropping the hand, slamming into the glass plate with a smile and a chuckle. “I know the definition of a tun.”

Womack sails the spinner with a frown.

He stands from the chair with a smile and a snigger, side stepping and moved ahead to the door, strutting to irritate the princess, again. If Parra gets really infuriated and attacks Tarn, then he can use the Touch to read her mind, uncovering all her Vilo secrets. He lifts and slams a hand into the door. The door opens. He stands with a smile inside the archway, staring at her rear skull with all the rippling waves of white curls.

“Dub, go away!” She does not turn around from the bench in front of the solid wall, feeling him with her Touch.

He continues to stand inside the archway with a smile and a nod, “Hey, warrior princess, what’s a dub?” Parra frowns with annoyance and combs through her hair with nothing better to do but wait on her rescue from Prince Cotana. He shouts with a sour frown, “MEX?”

MEX drones in a mechanic tone and exhibits an array of red and black lines on the screen, “Ready, second Prime Tarn.”

“What’s a dub?” He yells with a confused brow at the machine and stands inside the archway, staring at her rear skull of long hair.

MEX drones. “Unknown meaning or translation, second Prime Tarn! In addition, there is not any unknown reference or original. Final analysis summary, there is no such verbal, physical, or electronic context existent.”

“Thanks, MEX.” He shouts with a smile.

MEX drones. “Welcome, second Prime Tarn.”

Parra swings around with a grin and a giggle from the wall and stands with a smile, moving ahead toward the open door and Tarn, strolling from the suit and into the cockpit cabin.

“What’s a dub, Your Highmarkness?” His eyeballs follow her movement and watches her long curls sway back and forth around her body.

She stops and scoots around, sitting back down into the rolling chair, shifting toward one of the open recording stations over the curved wall with a smile, typing and accesses with a non-secured code. Images and words appear on the glass plate.

“Dack,” Tarn spins around with a sour frown and parks both hands on a waist, staring at the pilot console. “Dad, what’s a dub?” He hears a sound of light sniggering, coming from both Womack and Parra and exhales with a fury, “Dad?”

Not an acceptable word for a princess or a prime. Womack links, connects, and Touch minds back to Tarn.

Tarn stares with a fury at the nose profile of Parra in silence.

She ignores his silly but cute movement with a smirk of victory and types on the glass plate, accessing the information within MEX. Parra is looking up the more valuable reference material of planets and nebulas that she has never visited, plotting an eventual escape from the cute teen dub.

“Dack,” Tarn whispers for his eardrums and stares at her nose profile, moving forward and sits inside the rolling chair. He stares at her pretty face with an array of imaginative burning eyeball fireballs, hitting it, too. But her pretty face does not melt before his naked eyeballs.

Parra types with a smile, “You are second, not first. Your rouge unpolished personality marks your future, as well as, your past incompetent accomplishments.”

He exhales with a huff of annoyance and swings around to see the glass plate, retreating in a huff of invisible smoke with a slight grin. He likes her. Parra possesses quicksilver wit and funny torment which both painfully and highly abuse his teenling hormones, unmercifully.

MEX beeps with a baritone sound.

The excited vocal timber of Maries echoes throughout the interior cockpit cabin without a distorted face, coming from MEX. “Womack, answer me! Womack, we have an emergency here on Mercian. Tarn, where is my only child Tarn?”

“Maries.” Womack waves a set of dirty fingers. The camtube screen on the pilot console activates into his face, only. He does not want his wife Maries to know about Parra, yet.

The camtube wears her distorted frown and says with an alto fury. “Chamme is disintegrated. Every life form is terminated.”

Tarn stands with a gasp and turns with a sour frown, jabbing a finger at Parra. “She can use Touch minding, Dad.”

Parra stops typing and drops open a mouth in shock, turning with a sour frown to see Tarn.

Womack sails the spinner over another red puddle with a sour frown. “Do not be ridicule, Tarn! Not at this great distance, I can’t perform that magic trick, either.”

Tran winks at Parra for his fun amusement, since his dad is the High Dihe Master. “Have you tried, Dad?”

And failed, glorious! Womack links, connects, and Touch minds back to Tarn.

Then, Womack turns and frowns at his wife inside the camtube screen. “Maries, what is the disorganized situation like there on Mercian?” He shuffles both hands over the console, avoiding another red puddle.

Maries says via the camtube. “Dire, first Governor Yamhill, second Governor Orofin, first Senator Torbay have called forth a bodily session of our Establishment to discuss a retaliation against the Vilo warriors. Since, some of the outgoing massive explosive chunks of flying and heated space debris from the exo-planetoid Chamme have damaged some of the tiny parts of planet Koorskis.”

Tarn turns with a gasp to see the console cylinder and the hidden Womack. “Are the golden beans destroyed? I hope not,” he turns and winks with a smile at Parra. “The exo-planetoid of Koorskis produces golden beans for golden beer. It tastes great, too.” Parra nods with a smile. He drops open a mouth with a frown. “How do you know about Koorskis, golden beans, and the golden beer?”

Parra nods with a smile and turns to continue typing on the glass plate, accessing the information on MEX.

Womack sails the spinner and exhales. “I find that political decision, an asinine action. You like my ‘a’ sounds, Maries? Anyways, since we have not established the location of the Vilo home world…”

Tarn jabs a finger at Parra with a nod and a smile, “Warrior princess, she knows. And she wants to aid our cause, right, Your Highmarkness?”

Parra continues to type with a sour frown on MEX in silence.

Womack steers the spinner with a sour frown. “Need I remind? The escape pods are in proper working order, today. You lucked out, Tarn!”

Tarn turns with a gasp to see the console cylinder and flashes in pink tones of embarrassment, spinning around and away from Parra. He grabs the rolling chair and sits down, pressing a button to see and hear both his parents on the glass plate with the emergency as his normal skin tone returns to normal in silence.

Parra continues to type with a giggle on the glass plate, hearing the discussion, too.

Maries frowns. “Yamhill and Orofin do not agree with you, Womack.”

Womack sails the spinner with a laugh. “You mean the ferret-like Mustela species, white and tan fur, pink eyeballs, black mitts and feet with a set of long fingernails and toenails, smelly musky body odor. He is eight feet tall, 380 pounds heavy. And his wife second governor is expecting the second kit, overruling with her husband. Their only daughter is not talented in Touch, but the un-born kitten exhibits ejon talent by Touch minding with her mom on a daily basis. They never agree on any single topic.”

She huffs. “Respect! You must show respect to the leaders of our Establishment that run our…”

“…lives. I do, sometimes.” Womack sails the spinner with a laugh. “And we have not established any link with the Noti or any threat of violent or…”

Vilo are threats by nature and violent by choice.”

Womack sails the spinner with a sigh. “Maries, you are spouting ancient legends as told by dead Dihe about 1,000 years ago.”

I think the dead and sizzled Noti would disagree, Womack.”

“I think I highly disagree which makes my vote count twice as much. Call the clan, we landing, soon.”

Maries gasps. “How is that possible? Are you nearby the planet? I am not seeing the spinner upon the radar screen. Where are you sailing, within the river of time?”

“Bye, Maries!” Womack wiggles a finger and slaps the button, cutting off the vocal and visual link, making the camtube go black, “Parra, Tarn and I need to set up a skimming speed, requiring access to the cockpit instruments. I must apologize for an execution of emergency. Do you mind waiting inside your travel cabin for both security and safety, please?”

“No sir.” Parra stands from the chair and turns with a smile to see Tarn.

“Excellent.” Womack slides both hands over the glass plate with a smile.

Tarn whispers “Do you mind?” He jabs a finger at her pretty smiling face and her swaying cream colored curls. “She caused…”

Womack sits and sails the spinner with a stern face. “I need skim point destinations within the river of time please, Tarn.”

Tarn looks up with a confused brow to see the ceiling, “Skim point destinations!?”

Womack steers the spinner with a chuckle. “Have you skimmed a stone over a pond of placid water, Tarn?” Tarn frowns at the ceiling. Womack smiles. “Tarn, did you hear my question?”

Tarn frowns at the ceiling, “Yeah, what does the word placid mean?”

Womack steers the spinner with sigh, “I will re-phrase. Have you ever skimmed a stone over a pond of flat calm water?”

Tarn chuckles at the ceiling and Parra. “Yeah, lots of time.”

“Well, we are going to skim the spinner over the river of time like a sorta placid river of pond water.”

Tarn stands from the chair and turns with a sour frown to see the console cylinder that hides Womack, shaking both curls and hands. “Naw, Dad, I understand and don’t agree. That’s very dangerous to me and to her. Right, Your Highmarkness?”

Womack steers the spinner with a sigh. “We are going to combine our ejon beams and then create a great big bubble around the great big luxury spinner. Our ejon will protect both the outside metal components plus the inside delicate occupants, us. Then, I will use my Touch, skimming and bouncing the spinner over the river of time like the stone tossing example.”

Tarn nods with a chuckle. “Don’t know that, Dad!”

Parra slaps a chest with a grin and a giggle at the nose profile of Tarn. “I do know that. This is an excellent manipulation of the Touch, if you have the proper partner of ejon. I volunteer my…”

Tarn turns with a growl and slaps a chest with both hands, “Dack, now, I’m the son. You’re the prin…prisoner. Get to your room, Your Prisoner Highmarkness, now!” He flings both arms in the air toward her suite, wiggling all white fingernails with a sneer.

Womack steers the spinner with a smile. “Parra, please retire to the suite and then hang onto something. This will be the first time of Tarn.”

She winks with a laugh at Tarn, “Awe, your first time! I have done this before. It’s very stimulating,” Parra swings around with a giggle and slowly strolls into the suite.

The door closes.

Tarn jabs a finger at the archway with a fury. “Get into your room! Shoo, now, Your Highmarkness!” He spins around and grabs, pulling the rolling chair with the Touch behind his butthole to the pilot console on the opposite side of Womack and sits down inside chair with a smile and a nod, “Coming right up, Dad. Working on it, now. Yeah, I’m getting it done, right now,” he shifts both hands and types over the glass plate, seeing the river of time inside the viewer screen window.

MEX activates and displays the face of first Governor Yamhill. “We have lounged in 1,000 years of peace and prosperity within the folds of Intragalaxy. Now, our peace has been invaded, intruded, interrupted by interlopers…”

Tarn calculates the skim points on the glass plate with a smile. “I like his matching verbs. But, wouldn’t it be intralopers for Intragalaxy? ‘Inter’ is defined as outside the scope of a range. We don’t travel out of our pinwheel shaped galaxy. What do you think, Dad?”

“Your repetitive lessons of dumblings paid off good, last week.” Womack roams both hands over the glass plate and avoids more radiation puddles with a smile.

He types on the glass plate with a smile. “Yeah, I am right. Yeah, she is wrong.”

“Speaking of dumblings, Zeelee has requested your personal services, this week.” He steers the spinner with a chuckle.

He frowns and types on the glass plate, “Dad?”

“Afraid to say it, dungeon duty.”

“At the prison, I cleaned out all the ancient cobwebs with the dead spider guts, two weeks ago.”

Womack stands from the chair with a gasp and a stern face without see the hair roots of Tarn through the console cylinder. The spinner drops down into the river of time. “Who allowed you inside the prison cells? It wasn’t me.”

He reaches down and holds the edge of the rolling chair with both hands and a sour frown, “Dad! Mom did.”

Womack sits down with a stern face and slams both hands over the glass plate. The spinner lifts and resumes a higher level of flight over the blue river of time. “I would think Zeelee is referring to her personal dungeon duty on Koorskis.”

Tarn double-checks the skim points within the river of time with a gasp. “Koos has dirt basement inside his house.”

“Pool, recreational sporting game fields, a small golden bean garden, and numerous smelling commodes!” He laughs.

Tarn frowns. “Dad?”

“I didn’t call her precious first born son, a mite.”

“Nimtarts called him that vicious name. I am totally innocent here. Dack, Dad!”

“Somewhere, between ‘N’ for Nimtarts and ‘V’ for vicious, is the letter ‘T’ for Tarn,” Womack smiles. “I really doubt your alibi and I didn’t need to use Touch minding, either.”

Tarn continues to calculate the skim points with a smile. “You’re not defending your precious first born son, either. I’m calling Mom. She’ll defend me. She loves her little boy with all her whole heart.”

“Your mother gave me the message to pass along knowing that I don’t yell.”

Tarn stands from the chair with a stern face and jabs a finger at the pilot console without seeing Womack. “I’m calling our lawyer. We got a lawyer, right, Dad?”

“Cullom received a set of legal papers, years ago.”

Tarn nods with a grin. “Excellent, I’m filing charges of harassment of a teenling or obstruction of a teenling’s rights or something lawful against a teenling like me. Cullom can advise me, too. The skim points are ready to roll, Dad.”

Womack steers the spinner with a laugh, “After our debate with Yamhill, Orofin, and the others, if we win. Buckle yourself into the chair and then surround your Touch over the floor, the walls, Parra, and the rest of the spinner! We’re off, boy.” He slides the mathematical skim point destinations from Tarn over the river of time inside the glass plate.

Tarn exhales with some worry and reaches over, pulling out the bato, painting a body down into the rolling chair. And the chair locks down into the floor. His white ejon slowly spreads over the walls and the ceiling, creeping into the two side pods of the luxury spinners. Then, he sees the second layer of white ejon, coming from the ejon of Womack.

The ejon of Womack slaps around the ejon of Tarn, creating a big double bubble of pretty glowing light, protecting the spinner and the three souls inside the ship.

Womack places the bato in his mouth and slaps both hands over the glass plate, displaying the first skim point. The spinner bounces up and into outer space which has been activated by first skim point, looking like a flying saucer in the blackness of space. He reaches down and hangs all ten fingernails at the edge of the chair which is locked down by his Touch.

Chapter Sixteen

Maries

 

 

Planet Mercian

Black sky with red clouds

Week 44 and day 2 and hours 22 and minutes 45

Dihe spinner station setting

Rain and thunderstorms with lightning bolts

Cold temperatures, ten mph winds with fifty percent humidity

 

 

The spinner bounces up and into outer space from the last skim point, flying directly down into a thunder storm that surrounds the home world Mercian of Tarn and Womack.

Mercian is home to a world of zillions, including species-kind, human-kind, beast-kind, and creature-kind. The planet is cut in half vertical from north to south by 134,521,000 miles of a single greenish-black river. The fresh water is the prime source of drinking water for the thirsty tongues of natives, the fertile valley of food crops for the hungry stomachs of natives, and the roaming and running beast livestock for clothed bodies of natives.

The planet offers warmth, rains, and sunlight which are closest to the river water. As the native transverses down from the center of the planet, the cooler temperatures calm the hot summers and then feed snowfalls, coming down from the rough winters, fertilizing the farms and the river. Then, the skyline changes from a pretty bright blue into a dark angry red. Then, a native feels the dry heat and sees the tall orange sandy mountain ranges, taunting both family and friend fun social activities.

The wild winds rack the spinner side to side over the planet atmosphere. The lightning beautifully strikes over the top of the spinner.

Womack reaches up and slams both hands over the glass plate, steering through the storm and then lands the spinner outside one of the spinner station, sliding then slipping the ship in a circle over the slick wet mud from the rain storm. The luxury spinner is too large for fitting underneath one of the lousy metal frame sheds. He stands with a smile and wipes the sweat from a happy face, “Okay, everyone can stand from the floor. We’re home, finally.” He side steps around the console and then stops, standing between the console and wall, staring at the closed door with a smile.

Tarn releases both hands from the edge of the chair with a sigh and stands from the chair, grabbing a fluttering stomach with a grunt. He lifts and wipes the dust from the vest with a sneer and the blood from tongue bit on a face with a sneer, “Finally, I don’t like doing skim points, Dad. I…”

The door opens.

“I, so, enjoyed the thrilling ride, High Master Dihe Womack.” Parra appears inside the archway with a smile and without a blood stain, staring at the nose profile of Tarn. “You did an excellent series of jumps, covering the great long distance within a very short period of time.”

Tarn swings around with a snort and wipes the blood from the shirt with a frown, “Finally, your time is here for your punishment and my pleasure.”

“Tarn, I will escort the princess.” Womack moves ahead to Parra with a smile. “You run along home. Let Maries know that we are safely home and we have brought a guest…”

“A guest?” Tarn turns with a laugh and scans the cockpit with a grunt. “Where’s he or she at? I don’t see a guest here. I see a…”

“Now, Tarn!” Womack stops and stands in front of Parra, extending an arm for her escort. She reaches out and touches his arm with a smile. He gently holds her hand on his arm and swings around to see the archway, aiming the bato at the closed door. The white ejon releases and gently touches the door.

The door slides open and upward for exit from the spinner.

Tarn turns and dashes around the console and over the floor, stopping and stands inside the archway with an annoyed brow, jabbing a finger at the rain with a sissy whine, “It’s raining.” One of the thunder bolts flashes in bright white light and sounds with a loud boom over the top of the spinner. “Correction there, thunder and rain, I’ll get wet and cold.”

“Use an ejon shield like an umbrella around your face and your body, second Prime Tarn.” Womack turns and smiles at Parra, patting her hand with a nod. He waves the bato in the air waves as a white box surrounds both of them in silence and beauty.

Tarn spins around to see white box of Womack and Parra, side stepping with a confused brow from the open archway. Womack and Parra move toward the archway. Tarn frowns, “Where are you taking her, Dad?”

“The prison is the usually the proper place for any prisoner, Tarn.” Womack pats her arm. They move through the cockpit, passing Tarn, and then outside into the rain. He says. “The prison building is located on the northern side of the outpost, far behind the spinner station. You should remember, since you were there for two weeks.”

Tarn side steps and stands inside the archway with a sour frown and reaches down, grabbing the bato. He waves the bato over a face and a collar bone as an ejon shield partially covers his body. He is not a talented Toucher like his best bud Nimtarts and his best blossom Foxi. “Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he dashes from the archway and into the rain, getting the legs and the boot toes wet, running toward the house with a chuckle, “But, I get the last laugh, Your Highmarkness.”

 

 

Hours 23 and minutes 03

Prison building setting

Warm temperatures and rain showers without sunshine

 

 

Womack performs a Touch fly over the wet grass and in pouring rain without getting wet underneath the ejon shield, flying toward a short one story building that is made of ancient metal. Some of the metal sliding is rusty and re-repaired. He performs a Touch landing on the smooth front porch with a smile, waving a bato in the air, destroying the ejon shield with a smile. “The building is old, ancient. It looks to be a short squat one story structure, but it has many roomy compartments which are located below the ground floor. I do believe it is older than the outpost. Tarn told you some bits and bites of the Dihe culture. All Dihe live inside an outpost, mostly for economies and conveniences. The building here is isolated and alone from the rest of the wooden and warm homey houses. The prison building was used many, many years, ago. The word sun is equal to your word, moon. You will find that we are different but similar within our Toucher ways.”

Parra turns and smiles at Womack. “You seem so un-similar to your son, Tarn.”

He chuckles with a nod. “Tarn is a teen which is your Vilo word. Teens are un-similar to anything else on the planets and inside Intragalaxy.” He whips the bato around the air waves.

Parra turns and gasps at the front of the building. “The metal door is controlled by your personal ejon.”

He turns and winks at her nose profile, “Very good observation, Parra. Lots of the doors around here are controlled by an array of personal ejon. You shouldn’t have any problems getting through them, either. This is the part that I was commenting on. You are an ejon user and a Toucher, too, like me.” He gently touches the whiteness ejon to the metal door.

The door slides to the side, revealing a hidden long entrance hall.

Womack nudges her through the wide door and slowly escorts her into the large room.

The rectangular room has a set of two long side painted walls in beige and a short forward wall of dull beige. The forward wall holds a single metal door of silver.

Womack strolls with a smile and a nod through the archway with his arm escort of Parra. “This is the fake or false lobby without a viewing window or a piece of furnishings. It holds a single metal door of silver tinting which holds a working elevator, faking out an attacking Vilo garrison,” chuckling.

Parra gasps. “We do not attack anyone or anything, sir.”

Womack shakes a black colored skull. “I used to believe you, Parra, until the destruction of the exo-planetoid Chamme. I do believe that you were listening to my tense conversation with the High Dihe Mistress Maries. I wondered who killed all those natives and destroyed a helpless planet.” He stops and stands in front of the silver tinted wall, lifting and aims the tip of his bato at the single metal door.

And then a tiny ray of white light hits the door.

The door opens.

The space reveals an enclosed elevator carriage of silver tinting also. The carriage is empty of art works, furniture pieces, and Dihe guards, including any mechanical control panel.

He nudges her inside. She moves and stops inside a few feet with a confused brow, facing the wall. “I do not know, sir.”

He moves with a sour frown and stops, standing next to Parra, “Me, either. Then, maybe we can find out together, the first collaboration of a Dihe and a Vilo team.” He slams the ejon whiteness from his fingernails into the forward wall.

The door behind them closes.

The elevator moves and descends down into the belly of the prisoner building.

Womack turns and smiles at her nose profile. “We face the forward wall as the door closes behind us. The forward wall is the real part of the prison structure. The outer room is only built over the tons of thick ground soil.”

The elevator stops.

The forward door disappears within their eyesight, revealing a room. The room is rectangular shaped, matching the outer lobby of nothingness.

Parra gasps with shock.

Womack stands inside the elevator carriage, patting her arm with a nod and a smile. “You can see the room is rectangular shaped again. Dihe, they got no imagination of room design. The object in the opposite wall corner is a particular metal species called Pelta, as well as, its surname. Pelta is known exclusively for its ejon talent of object shielding for the purpose of defense, protection, and offensive interference from any type of foe. It is made of two metal rounded balls of shimmering white without a set of attached or developed limbs of hands, fingers, legs, feet, or toes. The first rounded ball is the skull, sorta. It has a row of equally formed and spaced three round eyes above a large round mouth. The second metal rounded ball is the body with numerous rounded circles, where the shielding shoots from. It is eighteen inches tall, the size of a small Dihe toddler and fourteen inches in diameter, the size of some of our Dihe senators. It hovers in the wall corner, its dark home,” chuckling.

Parra frowns with annoyance, listening to Womack and studying Pelta.

He still stands inside the carriage with a smile and a nod next to Parra. “Pelta is a uni-species with the ability to reproduce offspring by itself. The Pelta species births a baby Pelta, once every three hundred years. Pelta raises the chunk of metal into adulthood in thirty days or your version thirty lights. The adult Pelta dies. Intragalaxy contains fourteen Peltians which are located on each Dihe outpost for the sole purpose of shield protection of the clan and any acquired prisoners,” chuckling.

Parra frowns with annoyance, listening to Womack and studying Pelta.

He smiles. “Since it is part metal, the species does not eat but consumes tiny dusty metal particles, floating around the air waves like a hof appliance. It continuous lives in the wall corner of the prison and guards all the prison cell blocks.” He pats her arm and releases her hand, moving to the metal object Pelta in the wall corner.

Parra wiggles the arm with a worried brow, stepping out from the interior of the carriage and stops a few feet over the tile, scanning a small guard room. She burns the new Dihe terminology and technology into her neurons as a Vilo spy, which in real time she has failed with a soft giggle of amusement. However, she hopes that Cotana can trace her DNA strands from the exo-planetoid of Chamme and then coming here to the Mercian planet which is deep housed within Intragalaxy.

When she overheard Womack tell his obnoxious son that Touch didn’t travel like using the river of time, he was correct.

Parra can’t reach Cotana by her ejon talents, only by a cammic. She darts her eyelashes around the room, seeing an ancient style cammic on the wall in the middle of the room. She will need three or four blinks of time to access and use the ancient communication devise.

Blinks means minutes.

Parra learned how to operate on a cammic on her home world Ultimedia, avoiding the frosty fake facade of Marcola two moons ago, after being rewarded princess. Within the last thirty three lights, she has stay glued to the camtube, studying Cotana’s handsome features, when they parted for slumber.

Inside the prison building, Parra has a developed a homemade plan by memorizing the location of the cammic which is directly across from the prison gates. Now, it is time to plot the escape and wait for rescue for Cotana within the darkness of the shadow.

Shadow means night.

Womack stops and stands with a smile, reaching out and gently rattles the metal object, shaking its round head, saying both verbal, as well as, Touch minding mental thought, “Pelta.”

The two round balls of Pelta glow in brilliant white and then she links, connects, and Touch minds with Womack: Dihe.

Womack grins. “Pelta does not possess any type of human-kind appendices. It uses high levels of Touch minding for talking, Touch flying for walking, Touch moving for objects, and her specialty of Touch shielding for guarding prisoners and protecting the outpost, in case of vicious attack. The outpost has not been attacked in 1,000 years, since the last Vilo war.” He motions with his hand to Parra. She moves forward and stops, standing beside Womack, not smiling and studying the metal Toucher. He holds her hand, in front of the metal eyeballs of Pelta, saying. “Our palms show a sign of honor and openness, Pelta. This is Parra. She is staying inside prison cell number two, until I return. Please, shield twenty eight hours, Pelta.”

Dihe. Pelta links, connects, and Touch minds with Parra and Womack.

Parra gasps with a smile, hearing the mind touch inside her neurons.

Womack back pedals with Parra from the wall corner of Pelta and scoots around with a smile, standing in front of the cammic. He points to the long side solid wall of fifteen feet high by fifty feet wide and three feet wide. Pelta is stacked inside the wall corner. On the opposite wall corner, there is emptiness. He orders, “Pelta, shield.”

A red blinking field appears and covers the entire solid wall from ceiling down to the tile. Then, the wall modifies into ceiling to floor pair of twin gates of faded orange colored rusty iron, exposing the guts of the prison cells between the vertical slots.

Parra jumps backward in fright and grabs his hand for protection. She had learned about the Pelta species-kind from some stolen camtubes on Koorskis with its paranormal ability to shield as a Dihe talent. She had never seen a live demo, until now.

Womack pats her hand and removes the warmth. He fumbles with an object inside the vest and produces a small pebble, hiding it within the ejon fingernails. He turns and smiles at Parra. Then, he turns and tosses the small pebble into the invisible Touch shielding. The shield sizzles as the rock immediately disintegrates into a pile of fiery red ashes. “Dihe dust,” He chuckles.

Parra eye rolls with a sigh, wondering if Womack was supposed to say: Vilo dust. She studies the evaporating ashes that land on top of the tile with a whisper of worry, “Understood.”

Womack calms both her shaking hands with his warm palms and a smile to see her nose profile. “Parra, it’s okay. I am not going to let anyone harm you. I promise. Ask Tarn? He knows I keep my promises. You will be very safe here tonight. I must return for some very annoying meeting. Parra?”

She stares at the gates and the invisible Touch shield. “I believe.”

Womack turns and smiles at Pelta. “Pelta, de-shield.” The red fiery field appears and disappears within their eyesight. He swings a face and stomps forward through the open gates. She does not move forward. He leans over and tugs on her arm with a whisper and a smile. “Parra, it’s okay. We need to enter and then tuck you into bed,” chuckling.

Parra nods in silence, moving with Womack. They together cross through the entrance gates as Parra studies the three feet thick walls. She stops and touches the cool material on the gate with a confused brow, “Cementile.” Then, she turns with a puzzled brow and scans the interior space of the interior chamber of the prison building.

There is a square shaped room, holding an array of living room furniture which is painted in dull beige. There are two sitting sofas, a set of individual sitting chairs, and numerous side tables without objects of lighting. She gasps with shock. “I do not see any bots or equipment pieces down here.” Parra frowns with puzzlement.

Womack tugs on her arm and pulls her through the prison gates into the room with a smile. “No bots or equipment are needed, only Pelta. It only receives and transmits with Touch minding and only my Touch minding. No other Dihe can control it.”

She moves ahead with Womack and scans the room with a nod and a whisper, “Understood.”

He moves ahead through the room and points with a smile and a nod around the living space. “The open space is called a receiving room, appearing a bit boring. This entire area is a backup emergency shelter for any type of natural or other disaster. We prefer saving lives, not art works.”

She turns and scans with a nod each prison cell, “Nice to hear.”

They move through the receiving room, strolling down an enclosed hallway of beige colors, also. There are open archways on each side. He stops and stands, jabbing a finger with a smile at the space. “This room has a huge kitchen with numerous food and beverage dispensers. We, Dihe like to eat. You can order any item your desire for the evening on the house.” They move ahead and go further down the hallway and stop, standing at a new archway. He points through the open archway with a smile and a nod. “This is an entertainment center, mostly for the Dihe children, in case of emergency, too.” They finish the walk and halt in front of a closed metal door. He smiles. “No windows or art work on the hallway walls due to the emergency maintenance, also. We don’t use the prison a lot. Okay, the moment is here. There are a set of private bath facilities and necessary and numerous personal supplies that are held between the hidden panels.” He reaches out and presses the button with a smile. “Touch this button. Presto.”

The metal door slides upward and reveals a large square room of four solid walls of white colors.

Parra gasps with shock.

Womack enters and scoots them toward one of the side solid walls with a smile and hold a palm into the air, touching it with his ejon fingernails. The wall disappears and shows a small individual prison cell outlay with a bed, a bathroom, and a short set of clothing drawers. He nods with a grin at the room, “Your sleeping chamber, complete with a hanging canopy. I guarantee there will be no invasion of flying bugs, tonight.”

She turns and scans the tiny room with a worried brow, feeling lost and trapped. She cannot escape from this hidden prison cell that is located behind a solid wall which is ignited by Dihe ejon, this late eve. She could escape, if she had her bato which had been robbed from her person by the teen dub.

Womack does not bother to touch and reveal the other solid walls that hold more sets of hidden prison cells. He exhales with a sigh and turns to see her sad face. “Parra, I am so sorry for your temporary chambers. I didn’t expect to return to a mess which should be cleaned up, this evening. I can’t risk your presence in the outpost, yet. Therefore, you might be spending a couple of days and nights, here. Don’t worry! I’ll send Tarn over with some fresh doughies and some stable jokes.”

She turns and frowns to Womack. “Are doughies edible?”

“Sweet breads filled with tooth rotting ingredients.”

“I’ll take the doughies, but you can keep Tarn.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“He’s adjusting to you. Adjustment takes time, sometimes a long time. He’s a good kid.”

“You sound like I am not going back home for a while. My royal family is very wealthy, in case, your ransom demands large quantities of riches.”

“I didn’t want shives, Parra. Our term shives represents currency, riches.”

The Touch tells her so. “Then, why was I?” She releases the gripe of his hand with a gasp and steps back from Womack with a stern face. “I will never reveal the location of …”

He shakes a skull with a confused brow. “I didn’t want the home cluster location, either.”

She shakes her curls with a puzzled brow. “I am very confused. I am a princess of Vilo. My family will come for me. You can’t stop them from…”

“…finding you. I actually am hoping for that miracle. Alas! For a race with old values and ancient technology that enjoys bloodshed over education, I am not feeling confident in your warriors, your advisors, or your queen.”

She gasps. “You lied to Tarn. You possess much more datum of Vilo.”

Womack nods with a grin. “Yes, I confess to concealing datum from Tarn. I love him like a son. I didn’t want new knowledge to sway his independent teen decisions.”

“Because, he is Dihe, not Vilo.”

“Partly, you are Vilo. And partly, Tarn is very young, knowing very little about Intragalaxy as you are, too, Parra.”

“How long am I to stay?”

“When it is time to depart, Parra? The wall will not be erected, again. You have the run of the prison facility as the only prisoner tonight for a couple of days. I promise, you can trust me. Do you trust me?”

She turns and views the prison cell and Womack. He has provided her safety from the teen dub and his adult and teen Dihe warriors. She smiles. “Yes sir, I trust you.”

“Goodnight, Parra.” He back steps with a chin bow and a smile to the princess.

She smiles. “Goodnight, sir.”

He continues to back step from Parra with a smile and stops, standing in place and stares at her. Then, he spins around with a whistle and a grin and marches down the enclosed hallway, passing the kitchen and the set of entertainment rooms and enters the receiving room, finding it empty, too. He exits into the room and swings around, standing in front of the open twin gates with a smile and a nod, “Pelta, shield!”

Pelta links, connects, and Touch minds to Womack: Dihe

The red tint appears and then disappears, leaving a solid wall in disguise as the invisible Touch shield of the Dihe metal mistress.

The Touch tells him so. Womack smiles and then frowns at the solid wall of beige. He can feel her approach, strolling out from the empty elevator carriage.

Maries moves ahead and see the nose profile of Womack, not bothering to study the invisible Touch shielding that hides the twin gates and guts of the prison cells with a sour frown and a matching tone. “I want to meet the Vilo.”

He exhales with a huff of annoyance and stares at the wall with a stern face. “Not tonight, Maries! She’s exhausted. You can talk to Parra, tomorrow. What is the current status with Yamhill and the Establishment?”

She sneers, “Parra!”

He exhales with a huff of annoyance and stares at the wall. “I will introduce you to Princess Parra, tomorrow.”

“Princess, Womack?”

“You know, as well as, I. The Vilo do enjoy their earned titles.”

“Earned titles?”

He smiles at the shimmery wall of fade beige. “Earned, not honored, and definitely acquired with long time and great experience.”

“Sometimes luck…”

He exhales with a sigh at the wall. “Ejon isn’t luck. It’s…”

“Power…”

He turns and sneers at her nose profile, “Your word, not mine.”

“Ejon is power. The power possesses all those that hold and use it like the Vilo toars.”

“And not like the Vilo warriors, I do believe that we can assume they continue to practice their barbaric methods of Chap promotion.”

She nods with a grin. “Sometimes, I admire that strange method solid, logical, and productive.”

“Sometimes, Maries, I admire your guts, especially when you verbalize them so boldly in my presence.”

Maries smirks. “Sometimes, Womack, I admire you totally and trust you completely, considering our past, present, and future entanglements, together.”

“The future, Maries, has changed for you, me, masters, mistresses, Primes, and Intragalaxy.”

“I’m surprised at your tart reaction, Womack. You sound to me like we, the Dihe have overstepped our boundaries.”

He chuckles. “Intragalaxy is boundless.”

She nods with a frown. “I fear that we have bonded the filthy Vilo with us with our direct destiny.”

He looks up with a chuckle to see the dull beige ceiling and her. “What direct destiny, Maries? We are Dihe. We are the defenders of poor and good and other nasty rotten stuff, that no one else…”

“Vilo are the violators of power and greed.”

He back steps and scoots around her, strolling toward the open elevator carriage, “You should know, Maries.”

She exhales with a puff of annoyance and swings around to face the open elevator carriage and his back spine with a sour frown. “I do not know but understand. Just because I completely understand the Vilo warriors and their Ultimedia Society, it does not mean that I am not one of them, by far and by truth. So, be very careful with your nasty words, regarding my true Dihe heritage and honor, Womack.”

He moves inside the empty carriage and stops, standing in place, feeling Maries next to him. He lifts a finger and touches the side wall. A new forward wall appears. Then, the elevator lifts up toward the ground surface. He chuckles at the solid wall of silver. “Are you trying to threaten me, Maries?”

She turns and sneers at his nose profile. “My bato threats greed and evil with the weapon of a Toucher.”

He chuckles at the wall, “Bold and mighty speech!” The elevator stops. He swings around and reaches out, touching the rear wall of solid silver with the bato of white ray. The wall disappears and reveals an empty lobby of four solid walls of beige color and a single metal door without a guard, a piece of art work, or a viewing window. He stands inside the elevator carriage and turns with a sour frown to see her nose profile. “How did you ascend into the prison cell level from the lobby?”

She turns and smiles at the wall. “You left the wall open.”

He strolls forward with a laugh to the metal door, which is closed. “I must remember that one.” He swings around with a smile and sends a ray of white ejon at the elevator carriage.

Then, a solid wall appears in place.

He spins around with a smile and moves toward the single exit door.

She runs and pulls beside him with a sneer, “Life forms with both might and force of paranormal talents is the definition of Touchers and it is the definition of us and them. Both the Vilo and Dihe now exist together in Intragalaxy. You have brought this about catastrophe.”

He lifts and aims the bato at the metal door, sending a white ray. The door opens. He moves through the archway into a clear sky and a pod of wet grass with a smile at the twin pink colored full moon and numerous bright white stars. “You didn’t mention Trist and Doxi in your catastrophe.”

Maries stops and mouth spits salvia from the lips onto the wet grass with a sneer and runs ahead, pulling up beside her husband Womack with a sneer. “The low servants of the Vilo are only minor obstacles that obey their precious Lords and Ladies Shades.”

He moves ahead with a grin and a chuckle to the Dihe outpost. “Are you threatening the empire, too?”

“What empire? They are an empire of varmints, no better than sliders.” She laughs.

He nods with a smile. “Well then, I did the right thing. The Touch tells me so.”

She turns and sneers at his nose profile. “And, the Touch tells me, not so.”

“This upcoming annoying meeting tells me, woo-woo. Let’s finish up and then eat supper. I’m starving, after exploring Intragalaxy.” He stops and stands, reaching out with an index finger and wiggles a tiny stream of white ejon at the closed door.

The door opens.

Maries enter the building first.

Chapter Seventeen

Nimtarts

 

 

Hours 23 and minutes 36

Dihe Outpost One

Conference room setting

 

 

The conference room door opens.

Maries enters the conference room first without smiling and scoots into her assigned chair around the teardrop-shaped table. The light colored wooden table was constructed from the local native trees on planet Mercian. The shape represents a single free flowing teardrop from any face and a tear of happiness or sadness.

The teardrop table is the secret symbol of the Dihe with a smooth curved shape instead of a strict rigid straight line. The curve represents flow, fluid, and forever continuous union of ejon and eternal, mate and mind and love and life.

Within the Dihe tribe, the mated pair works together as husband and wife and Master and Mistress. So, the paired Dihe roams and runs around Intragalaxy, providing good deeds for fun and free. Additionally, a daddy, a mama, and all their children with or without the ejon talent live as a single unit within a Dihe outpost as a loving and caring family unit.

First Governor Yamhill sits outside the curved teardrop table inside an oversized metal chair, staring with a sour frown at the nose profile of Maries. “I demand to know the presence of High Dihe Master Womack. Where is he, Maries? We have been waiting for centuries inside this hot and smelly room. What has happened within Intragalaxy? I demand an update that is affecting zillions of human-kind and species-kind, without any type of Establishment walls. There are numerous and nasty rumors abounding of an imminent Vilo attack here on our home world of Mercian. Are those rumors true or false? Where is Womack?” He is both worried and uptight, since his wife is in labor inside the medical ward awaiting his return, soonest.

Zebra-like Thane turns and nods in silence to Maries.

Maries sat with a stern face and stares at the Yamhill with a return head nod to Thane.

Thane turns and smiles at an uptight first Governor Yamhill, knowing that his wife is in labor. She scans with a smile and scouts the teardrop table for the young Dihe warrior, who is sitting with his parents as she mental thinks about the potential Dihe warrior for one her twins within the coming year of the eighteenth birthdays. The eighteenth year emphasizes both the adulthood and marriage rights.

Thane has the special gift of Touch clarity, the ejon ability to see and predict the future, such-like, social events, work activities, and love marriages within Intragalaxy. She exhales with a puff of worry and brushes the pretend dust bannies from the Dihe vest. Something is coming quickly that will impact the daily lives of all species-kind within Intragalaxy. She feels it growing and expanding within her guts and leans over with a smile and a whisper to the cheekbone of Maries. “Where is your boy, Tarn? I heard that he had accompanied Womack into the danger. Is he harmed?”

Maries presses the soft leather vest with a set of manicured fingernails, sitting upright and alert. She always exhibits her proper business and reserve manner within any business or tribal meeting and mentally prepares for the scheduled business meeting, ignoring the walls of standing beings.

The small conference room is packed and smelly. The sitting and standing life forms comprise all the adult members of the Dihe tribe, coming from all the Dihe outposts and the other species-kind that walk upright on two or more appendages or flies with a pair of wings or crawls on four or more appendages.

The pregnancy female Zeelee stands in the wall corner with her husband Koosbay, blocking her wobbling and wailing child from disturbing the meeting. She does not have baby sitter, this late night, either. The Dihe clan has never been in an emergency situation ever, since she was a lowly learning and schooling second Prime.

Monkey-like Cullom sits next to his un-mated wife Idanha in silence.

“Only Maries would not supply an answer to our leader,” rat-like Knell smirks.

Lion-like Teeger turns and drools at the pretty looking purple meat of Knell with a growl.

Bee-like Siryon gasps with a worried brow to each Dihe. “I don’t wanna hear about an attack on Mercian soil. Or I don’t wanna see an attack on Mercian soil, either. There has been peace here for 1,000 years. I worry about my children, of course. They’re too young, missing out on their long and productive lives.”

Bee-like Zcio leans over and pats her hand, cuddling into Siryon on a shared teardrop chair with a smile. “There, there, I will defend and defeat the Vilo against you and your children, Siryon.”

Bird-like Jahally listens in silence to the tart conversation.

Wolf-like Porrett cracks all the knuckles and mouth drools with the delicious conversation. “I wanna taste me some new tangy and salty meat chunks.”

The mate of Porrett, Berwick leans over and wraps an arm around his wife with a smile and a nod in silence.

Cat-like Furno stands from the chair with a nod and a chuckle. “I volunteer to go and find our missing leader, High Dihe Master Womack, who seems to be lost inside the refresher station. And I don’t blame him.” His mate Ginnita reaches over and slaps his bicep. Furno sits with a snigger and leans over, kissing her furry cheekbone. She slaps his bicep again, showing off in front of the other life forms.

Thane sits upright inside the chair with annoyance at snobby Maries and scans the room for the next young Dihe warrior, leaning over with a smile. “Where is your boy, Ginnita?”

Elephant-like Oxbow has a good time at the expense of Thane and Yamhill with a laugh and a grin to each face. “All our precious young Dihe warriors are waiting down the hallway and inside the entertainment room. You won’t find a boy or a girl in here, Dihe Mistress Thane.”

Thane sits upright and tall inside the tear-drop chair, pressing down the vest with annoyance.

The door opens.

Womack appears and stands inside the archway with a stern face.

Furno turns and jabs a finger at the archway with a smile. “Our fear-less and late-ness leader is finally here-ness.” Ginnita reaches over and slaps his bicep with annoyance. He spins around and leans over, kissing cheekbone, pulling back with a wink and a smile.

All eyeballs turn and stare at the High Dihe Master.

Womack exhales with a huff of annoyance, moving ahead with a nod and a fake smile, scooting into the teardrop shaped chair beside Maries, sitting in silence.

Knell lifts and jabs a fat finger at Womack with a sneer. “I have numerous unanswered questions for you, Womack. Number one, why are…”

The metal sings in a high pitched soprano as each species-kind covers an ear hole or an eardrum, including the human-kind with pain.

Yamhill lifts a folded fist from the metal chair and clears a throat with a fake smile. “I, being the leader of the Establishment, not the Dihe clan, will conduct the inquiry. Womack, tell us all available the data that you have accumulated during your Dihe journey? I, including all our warriors and merchants, must analyze and extract an immediate war strategy for the upcoming battle encounter. Please begin, when ready!”

Each Dihe drops both hands in fury of silence, staring at Yamhill and Womack.

“No.” Womack sits and shakes a skull with a smirk, rocking the chair back and forth.

Maries gasps. “Womack!”

“No.” Womack leans over and touches her arm, shaking a skull with a smirk. He is really serious, possessing no intention of sharing his new data with the Establishment politicians like Yamhill or the Dihe clan, either.

Koosbay stands against the wall of the crowded room and tosses both arms with a grin. “I’ll pay you one million shives, bud.”

The mouths drop open and stare at Womack.

“No.”

 

 

Hours 23 and minutes 45

Teenling entertainment room

 

 

“Yeah.”

The teenling entertainment room is square shaped and houses an assortment of numerous electronic player and game stations that surround each the wall of the room. The eating tables are in the middle of the room. All of the electronic player and game stations are powered on but are not engaged in active play, except for the music box. A country song slams musical notes against the wall with a set of guitars and drums, creating the only noise inside the crowded room.

The entire teenling Dihe boys and girls surround the tall table of second Prime Tarn. He eats and chews with an open of bad manners and then sometimes laughs, shooting out food particles into the air. However, the entire teenling Dihe boys and girls lean back from the flying mouth toss of Tarn and then lean forward to listen and watch Tarn, again.

Nimtarts is a human-kind teen with a set of board shoulders, a pair of narrow hips, a head of shoulder length dark brown colored hair, a pair of brown eyes with a flick of golden specks, a tone of dark tinted skin, and a face of dark brown whiskers. He stands next to Tarn, crossing both biceps with a sour frown and a sneer into the nose profile of Tarn. “You want me to pay you ten shives for the answer, too?”

Shives means dollars.

Tarn sits at of the many eating tables inside the entertainment room and chews the good food, spitting out more food partials inside the air with a laugh and a nod, “Yeah, any and every question? You pay me for a question. Then, I decide, if I’ll answer it,” he eats the food with a smile.

Rat-like Moro nods with a snigger, wringing both tiny furry hands with a grin. “Did you capture a real live Vilo? Can we torture him?”

Tarn laughs and then coughs back up the non-swallowed food with a smile, tapping the table with a white ejon fingernail. “Pay up first. Ten shives.”

Moro lifts and wiggles a single shive near his snigger, “One.”

“Ten.” Tarn chews with a grin.

Monkey-like Ucon laughs without possessing any shives for amusement. “Two.” His older sister reaches and slams his arm with a sour frown at her little brother. Then, he yells with a laugh. “Three.”

“Ten shives.” Tarn chews with a grin.

Moro reaches and places the single shive with a nod and a snigger next to Tarn, “One shive, here you go, Tarn.”

Wolf-like Cherwell exhales with a puff of annoyance, tapping a boot toe with a sour frown and a matching tone. “Don’t. Do not pay him, Nimtarts!”

Moro frowns. “I wanna know.”

Zebra-like Ezatala frowns at Tarn. “I wanna know, too.”

Cherwell nods with a grin to Tarn. “Go down the prison and look for yourself.”

Bee-like Taradash shakes her curls with a sour frown at Cherwell. “And get pasted by Pelta. Not on my life form, you’re nuts, Cherwell.”

Cat-like Foxi frowns. “Did your dad activate Pelta, the mechanical Dihe shield?”

Tarn nods with a grin. “Pay up first. Ten shives.”

Moro frowns with a hiss. “Hey, answer my question first, Tarn?”

Cherwell frowns. “He did. Or Womack would not have shielded the prison cells and the entire building without my Touch or my shives.”

Elephant-like Gamnon nods with a grin. “Naw, that means we got a real live hostile hostage. I want to know who the prison holds. Come on, Tarn! Moro paid you one shive. Did you get a Vilo warrior? Yes or naw?”

Tarn nods with a grin. “Okay, a freebie, but this question only. The answer is yes. There is a Vilo princess warrioress girl inside the prison hold.”

Each male teenling wildly dances with a clap and a chuckle across the floor. Each female teenling shows a sour frown with a hiss, crossing both arms in silence.

“Is she pretty?” Moro turns and stops with a nod and a tongue of mouth drool to see Tarn.

Octopus-like Quimpher turns and frowns at the rat-like species, “Stupid question, Moro. The Vilo are one species like me and you, all pretty and cute.”

Bird-like Yachats nods with a smile. “Humans, the species-like is correctly called by their designated term, humans.”

Wolf-like Cherwell frowns with a nod. “‘They all look the same to me, also.”

Human-like Nimtarts laughs with a smile. “What ‘same’ is that feature to you, Cherwell?”

“Tarn, answer the question?” Moro nods with a frown.

Tarn extends an empty palm with a smile. “The next question requires ten shives.”

“Ten.” Voxi shakes her furry curls with a frown.

“Four.” Moro hisses with a smile.

“Nine,” Tarn smiles.

“Five.” Quimpher nods.

“Eight.” Tarn nods with a grin.

“Six.” Voxi frowns with a nod.

Foxi reaches over and slaps her litter mate on the arm. “Shut it, Voxi! I don’t wanna know.”

“I do.” Voxi leans over and hugs her best bud Nimtarts with a smile. “Seven. Give Tarn seven shives, darling!”

Nimtarts shoves the seven shives with a smile and a nod toward Tarn in silence.

“Seven shives is the magic number.” Tarn turns and winks at his best bud Nimtarts. “Yes. The Vilo warrioress is very, very lovely pretty.”

The males wildly dance, clapping and slapping hands with a chuckle. The female Dihe frowns and cross both arms with a hiss.

Foxi frowns with worry, “Told ya! I don’t wanna know that.”

Voxi releases Nimtarts and leans over, hugging her litter mate with a giggle. “It’s just a game, sister dear, just play along.”

Quimpher nods with a grin. “Describe her body, Tarn?”

“Ten shives,” Tarn reaches over and grabs the stolen mug of Atum golden beer from the adult kitchen, sipping the sweet favor.

Nimtarts reached down and slips over more shives with a smile and a nod. “Here’s five shives! Describe her?”

Tarn wipes the mouth with his arm and a grin. “She is tall at five feet and ten inches with a slender body frame and a tone of liver skin…”

Yachats smiles, “Between a light and dark brown skin tone with a head of white hair, all of them. They all look alike, the same, the Vilo humans.”

Tarn nods with a smile. “The hair is called cream and down to her…yeah.”

Foxi tosses both arms with fury at her best bud, “Tarn!”

Tarn stands with a grin and wiggles all fingers down far below his fanny. “Here!” He laughs with the other teenlings.

“Is she young? How old in years?” Quimpher nods with a grin.

Cherwell laughs with a nod. “The Vilo have different mathematical measurements.”

Nimtarts reached down and slides over more shives with a smile and a nod to Tarn. “Granny, lady, teenling, or baby? There’s a scale. Pick one? Eight shives. No more negotiation, Tarn.”

Tarn smiles, “Teenling.”

The males dance in circles, hooting and clapping. The females frown and stomp a boot heel, exhaling with worry.

Nimtarts stops dancing and stares at Tarn, tossing both arms with a confused brow. “Wait a minute, a pre-teenling, teenling, or older teenling?”

Tarn winks with a chuckle to his smart best bud, “A freebie. My age.”

The males dance in circles, hooting and clapping. The females frown and exhale with fury in silence.

Zebra-like Ceffee cross her hoofs with a frown. “What’s she the princess of, Tarn?”

Yachats nods, “Her home cluster.”

Voxi nods with a grin. “Did you and Womack find the home cluster of the Vilo?”

Tarn shakes his curls with a smile, “Naw, we are still looking.”

“That’s bad.” Yachats frowns.

“That’s good.” Moro nods with a grin.

“That’s dack.” Quimpher nods with a smile.

“Dack, the Vilo really do exist within Intragalaxy along with us, Dihe.” Nimtarts leans over and cuddles Voxi with a fake smile and a worried heart for his loved ones on planet Mercian.

Voxi frowns with a nod. “They share a home with other rotating planets and the Vilo, too.”

“Is she mean?” Taradash nods with a frown.

Foxi nods with a grin. “Is a raptete mean and hungry for the swanette nest and the baby chick?”

Cherwell grins, “Naw. They are natural hunters, surviving like the rest of the beast-kind within Intragalaxy.”

Tarn points to his sworn foe with a nod, “Excellent point, Cherwell!”

Yachats frowns. “Is she a meanie like a vicious animal hunter, Tarn?”

Tarn rubs his facial whiskers, pondering the question without asking for any more shives. “She is independent, high-spirited, stubborn, well mannered…”

Foxi leans and rubs his whiskers with a furry face and a worried heart. “How much time did you spend with her, Tarn, sweetheart?”

Tarn feels her soft fur hairs and giggles from the softness. “Not much! Dad…”

“Yo!” Womack smiles and appears inside the archway of the entertainment room, clapping for attention. “Teens, it is time to go home. Get moving! Your parents are waiting along the inner hallway or outside underneath the twin moons. Goodnight, ya’ll! Let’s go, Tarn!”

All the teenlings turn and dash through the archway, finding a parent, going back home for the night.

“Yes sir!” Tarn stands from the chair and slides the empty mug of beer behind the tall platters of food, reaching over and cuddles Foxi. They move ahead to the open archway, following behind the back spine of Womack.

Foxi leans over with a whisper and a smile into his cheekbone. “I love you, Tarn.”

Tarn stares at the back spine of Womack with a grin, “Me, too, Foxi.”

Chapter Eighteen

Prisoner Parra

 

 

Week 44 and day 3 and hours 10 and minutes 10

Late morning

Prison building setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

 

 

In his bedroom and his house, Tarn swiftly dresses in a pair of faded and ripped blue jeans and a pair of polished cowboy boots with a chuckle and a grin, scooting of the house and performs a Touch dash over the dirt toward the prison building for a brief visit with his princess prisoner.

He whispers with a smile, “Princess prisoner, yeah, a good name combination for today,” Tarn passes numerous structures, including the Pit. Today is his turn with the Dihe physical practice sessions inside the Pit, performing the weekly exercise, befitting a Dihe warrior.

Except today, he will be getting started a little later than normal. And he is not required to serve as a watcher, either. Since, he had bagged and captured a Vilo warrior, yesterday. His mom Maries had excused Tarn from all the Primelings teachers at ECU Center Four, foreverly.

His parents are attending a set of more boring war meetings inside the Dihe Outpost One, working up a set of Dihe scout teams for finding the Vilo home cluster on the other side of Intragalaxy.

Tarn slows down and walks across the dirt with a confused brow and a gasp. The single door into the prison building is opened, not closed. He slowly approaches. His dad is also visiting Parra, this morning. Tarn whispers. “No big deal! I’m checking on my dad in case a vicious attack from the ugly princess. Yeah, that should get her annoyed for the morning,” chuckling.

He enters though the open archway and moves inside the lobby of prison building, seeing the elevator door is open, not closed with a whisper. “O, Mom is here, checking on her, too,” he dashes and stops inside the elevator with a chuckle.

The doors close. Then, the elevator descends down then halts on the underground floor.

The wall disappears and reveals the prison reception room.

He sees metal Mistress. Pelta stands inside the wall corner, not bright glowing white but dull gray metal, like always. He exits the carriage and turns with a gasp. The solid wall is missing, meaning the protection shielding is off. He shakes his curls with a whisper. “No matter! My mom and my dad are here with Parra, interrogating the Vilo warrior. So, I will join them for the fun.”

He moves through the open gates to see the receiving room, two sitting bodies, and a set of two sounds of happy laughter and drops open a mouth, staring and listening.

“Correct, princess!” Nimtarts sits really close on the sofa with Parra and a smile, pointing down at the campad with a nod. “The Dihe math terms for the days and the nights are milliseconds, seconds, minutes, hours. Then, we express in Dihe measurement terms feet, inches, miles. And, of course, outer space distance and travel is called quantum speed.”

She turns and smiles at the nose profile of Nimtarts, “Complex.”

He taps on the campad with a smile. “So, please allow me to illustrate the math! For example, there are twelve inches in one foot, not my boot heel. There are three thousand pounds in one ton like a spinner or half a spinner. Does that make sense, princess?”

She smiles at his nose profile. “Clear.”

He looks up with a smile to see her pretty face, smelling her sweet body odor, “Very good, princess! You completely understand me.”

“Very well,” She winks with a giggle at him.

He clears a throat with a smile. “Then, there are three hundred sixty days in a year, twenty eight days in a month, twenty eight hours in a day, and fifty eight minutes in an hour, and fifty eight seconds in a minute. See, how easy this is?”

“Easy.” She winks with a giggle at him, again.

He smiles and admires her pretty face, her pair of violet colored eyes, her long head of creamed colored hair, and her liver colored skin. “You know I could be your personal tutor, if you’ll like?”

She giggles with a wink to him. “I would enjoy your tutelage. But, you must request the inquiry with High Dihe Master Womack.”

He nods with a smile. “Call him, Womack! No titles here on Mercian, princess. All of us, Primes do! He’s really friendly and social.”

She giggles with a wink at him, “Like you, Dihe Master Nimtarts.”

He smiles, “Yeah, like me, we are both popular, too.”

Tarn stomps closer to the sofa with a fake smile and a grunt, staring at Nimtarts then Parra, then Nimtarts and finally on Parra. “Hey, bud, what’s hanging with you?”

Parra looks up with a gasp and a sour frown to see Tarn in silence.

Nimtarts turns and smiles at Tarn, “I’m teaching our princess, our ways, our Dihe ways and traditions. She needs to learn that, since she’s staying for a while.”

Tarn snorts with a fake smile. “A new exchange program, huh, in Dihe culture? That’s wane, Nimtarts!”

He nods with a grin. “Really, wane!”

Tarn chuckles, “Has our princess offered any space dust bannies of Vilo culture in return for your generous Dihe teachings?”

He slaps a chest with a nod and a grin. “I am going first and sharing our Dihe information.”

Tarn nods with a worried heart and a fake smile, “First, great idea, bud! The only thing, I’ve learned from our princess was tun.”

He frowns at Tarn, “Tun?”

Tarn turns and winks at her. “A vocabulary word means city while spoken within the mysterious Vilo language of weird nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Right, Your Highmarkness?”

Nimtarts turns and smiles at Parra. “Tun, a Vilo city, I’ve learned something new today. How about that princess?”

Tarn scratches the whiskers with a sign. “And then, there is the Vilo word, dub.”

He frowns at Parra and Tarn. “What’s a dub?”

Parra stares with a giggle at Tarn.

Tarn exhales. “You can inquire about that particular vocabulary word for your next Vilo lesson with our princess, Nimtarts.”

He turns and winks to Parra, “Great idea, bud! Hey, princess, how about I come back at…”

“How long have you been teaching our princess, bud?” Tarn frowns with puzzlement.

Nimtarts cut his eyelids up toward the ceiling, allowing the Touch to tell the time and gasps with surprise, turning with a worried brow to see Tarn. “Dack, I’m been here over an hour.”

“Yeah, bud, I was wondering about our Dihe practice, today.”

He stands from the sofa and turns with a stern face, moving toward the missing twin gates. “Dack, the Pit and bato battle skills!”

Tarn grins at Nimtarts. “Thirty minutes ago, I thought you forget about our fight which are pretends of fighting of course for the eardrums of the Vilo princess. So, I came around looking for you, bud.”

Nimtarts moves ahead and reaches over, slapping Tarn on the bicep with a grin and a whisper. “Thanks, Tarn! Uh, you didn’t mention where I was to Voxi?”

Tarn shakes both his curls and his hands with a fake smile, “No, bud! Voxi is still on the dirt practice field of the Pit, warming up with her katas.”

Nimtarts nods with a grin. “Great, that’s great.” He spins around and bows at a fit waist to Parra, standing upright with a smile and a nod. “Princess, I will return, tomorrow. Then, we can discuss more math terms. Okay, Parra?”

Parra nods only once, without standing from the sofa, electing to utilize her regal polished manner for dismissing a lowly serf which is like a similar act of dismissing a Trist slave on her home world Ultimedia.

Nimtarts spins around with a smile and jogs through the open gates with a hand toss and a shout. “I’m heading out for the Pit.” He reaches the archway and halts, spinning around with a confused brow to see the rear skull of Tarn. “Are you coming, Tarn?”

Tarn stares with a sour frown at Parra, saying to Nimtarts. “I’m following you out, soonest! Get going before Voxi…”

He spins around with a smile and jogs through the missing gates, “I’m moving through the archway, on the carriage.” He turns and enters the empty carriage. The elevator closes the doors, lifting the carriage from the prison room, blocking out his voice.

Tarn stares at the princess regal face and dips down a chin toward her pink lips, breathing his hot breath onto her soft cheekbone. She does not bat a cream colored eyelash at his leaning posture inside her personal space. He says with frigid ice. “Voxi is the best blossom of Nimtarts. That is a Dihe term, meaning girlfriend. The girl, he is going to marry forever, until death do them part.” He breathes onto her cheekbone, again. “I do not know what mind game you are playing with Nimtarts, who is my best bud. But halt, stop, cease! Hopefully, one of those new Dihe terms, you understand completely, princess.” He stands upright with a grin and twirls around in one fluid motion, marching toward the twin gates for the practice battle match with Nimtarts, Foxi, and Voxi. He stops and swirls around with a stern face of fury. “If you do not, then I will be teaching you our Dihe ways personally, Parra.” Tarn spins around and moves through the missing twin gates.

Then, the solid wall returns and locks the princess back into the prison cells.

Parra sits on the sofa and turns with a sour frown and a worried heart to see the solid wall. She doesn’t know if she should believe or be afraid of the teen dub. Tarn is a young teen like herself.

However, she did with his eye balls see her battle with the five rats at the Chamme shopping mall, eliminating her foe with some pretty awesome Touch talents.

She whispers for her eardrums only without shouting, in case there are one or two hidden visual recordings built into the walls. “Yes, and I will be teaching you our Vilo ways, too, second prime Tarn using my bato, also. I see very clearly, Tarn, darling! My bato is lounging inside your vest on the right side. Right position for my left hand to grab and then service…”

The solid wall disappears and reveals the inner guts of the lobby with Pelta.

Maries stands between the twin gates and scans the room, staring with a stern face at Parra.

Parra gasps and then frowns with annoyance.

Maries moves ahead with a smirk and presses down the vest toward the sofa and stops, standing at the edge of the fabric with a sneer and a sour frown. “You seem nervous, princess.”

Parra sits and fakes a smile with her regal teachings. “Please, address me as Parra. Our Vilo protocol dictates informal titles during small chatting sessions, High Dihe Mistress Maries.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You have been well informed with extreme accuracy, Parra.”

“As datum is acquired, all Ladies, Lords, and Shades always savor the opportunity to enlighten the intellect.”

“Your brain stem must be on overloading in heated neurons.”

“I have requested to be returned back to my home world of Ultimedia or the furthest exo-planetoid, being removed out of the Dihe territory, High Dihe Mistress Maries.”

She fakes a smile, too. “High Master Dihe Womack brought you here to Mercian on the Dihe side of Intragalaxy. He is the decider of your fate, not I. However, I am afraid that my husband is not interested in satisfying your princess request, returning you royalty back home now or near in the future.”

Parra fakes a smile. “The Touch tells me so.”

Maries gasps with a grin. “You have stolen our Dihe axioms, as well as, our technology of spinners and…”

“I believe the axiom is older than the hills of Harrogate.”

She gasps with a sneer. “Your species…”

Parra frowns with a nod. “Humans are my species-kind formal name. If you do not mind, using the correct term?”

Maries gasps with a smile. “You, arrogant humans are pretty, beautiful, maybe exotic looking. I’m told by hearsay of course that all your kin resemble you. Am I correct, Vilo?”

Parra fakes a smile. “Flattery while misguided will be received with silence.” She stands from the sofa and swings to see the prison cell.

She grins with a giggles. “Ah, the Vilo princess has feelings.”

Parra moves ahead toward the kitchen, since she has free movement within the prison complex from Womack with a stern face. “Our chatting session is terminated.”

She stomps ahead and follows behind the back spine of Parra, shaking her curls with a sneer in fury. “Naw, our chatting session has just begun, princess.”

Parra stops in place and exhales with a puff of annoyance without see Maries. “Your display of hollering numerous contemptuous steroid-loaded ejon threats is similar to your son’s. I cannot miss the trait.” The Touch tells her so.

Maries lifts and rears back the bato, tossing the weapon into the air, aiming at the swaying creamed colored curls of Parra.

Parra swings around with a gasp and catches the flying object. Her Touch activates the bato into glowing in eerie white ejon. She gasps with shock at the bato and her glowing white fingernails.

Maries nods with a smile. “Good reflexes, Vilo human!”

Parra frowns down at the glowing bato inside a hand and at Maries. She doesn’t rear an arm but performs a Touch throw, swiftly lifting the bato with force. Then, the bato sails toward Maries.

Maries lifts and catches it with one hand and as smirk.

Parra nods with a smile. “Thank you for the nice compliment, High Dihe Mistress Maries.”

Maries nods with a smile. “Good day, princess!” She swings around with a sour frown and moves through the missing gates, without viewing Parra.

The solid wall appears and locks Parra inside the prison, again.

Parra cross both arms and shakes her curls. “Like her obnoxious son, DNA is a strange concept among the Dihe.” She exhales with a puff of annoyance and uncross both arms, swinging around, strolling into the entertainment room to learn more about the Dihe ways with a smile.

 

 

Hours 20 and minutes 20

Early evening

Prison building

Suppertime setting

 

 

Parra sits on top of the comfortable sofa with a smile and a laugh at the silly electronic child’s game. The musical song plays, after losing the competition. She giggles and gently places the remote control devise on top of the side table and then yawns, standing from the sofa, stretching all limbs with boredom.

Parra had played every electronic game inside the entertainment room from a kiddie frog jumping contest to an teen galaxy war games, not bothering to win or lose, just being occupied. She had also perused every single electronic book, just looking at something besides the dull white painted walls. She had eaten a single bit of every piece of food item inside the kitchen, too. She also made a great big mess which second Prime Tarn could clean, next week. Since she might be going back home, if her Touch is telling the truth.

She side steps and moves away from the sofa and the foot stool, standing and scanning the entertainment room with a sigh. She has played or touched or reviewed each single fun item inside this room. She strolls forward and stands inside the empty hallway. She has not had a visit from Womack, either.

So, Womack might be at this moment negotiating with Cotana for her release. Marcola would never negotiate, only destroy. Or worse, Marcola would not allow Parra to return back home, due to the fear of losing her tiara.

Cotana is both a peaceful teen and a wise prince. He is working out the details for Parra’s release and transportation back home to Ultimedia.

Parra nods with the delightful concept and turns down the hallway, strolling into the kitchen. She stands at the kitchen archway with a grin at the big ugly food colored stained counter tops. She is not hungry. She swings around and moves back into the hallway, strolling toward her individual prison cell.

The prison cell is tiny, measuring ten feet by ten feet and a square-shaped hole with a set of four walls. There are no windows or work painting, only the hovering bed which is comfortable. The linens are white colored, also.

Womack is correct. The prison has no personality.

She exhales with a puff of more boredom and slowly moves toward the prison suite, slapping her dress, smelling her stinky body odor, too. If she stinks up the prison with her princess odor, then Womack has to allow her to leave Mercian. She halts and stares into the tiny room. She shakes her curls, not feeling like taking a nap or lying down. She exhales with a puff of boredom.

Parra back steps from the archway of the prison cell with a smile and dances around empty space between the walls. All the other prison cells are hidden behind a set of solid walls, making the middle of the room an empty space. She swirls around very faster with a grin and a giggle for fun as her skirt panels fly into the air. She dances around and around, pretending and humming a musical song. Cotana is presence here with Parra, having fun at one of the old Ultimedia galas. She has missed a few of the long and boring galas as she is trapped here on a foreign planet with the nasty teen dub and the nice High Dihe Master.

Parra trips forward and slams a shoulder against the wall with a giggle of silliness, leaning into the wall, removing both sandals. She exhales with a puff of amusement.

Then, the wall heats and shifts away from her body.

Parra yells from fright, tossing both sandals in the air, running away from the wall. She runs into the middle of the room, swinging around with a worried brow.

The solid wall disappears and reveals another empty prison cell, without a prisoner.

She gasps with a growl. “This is not funny, dub Tarn. I bet that he programmed the prison cell to open, one at a time, remaining me of my capture and containment.” She stares into the same prison cell like hers in silence and waits for another portion of the solid wall to disappear, crossing both arms with a sour frown.

No portion of the solid wall disappears, again.

She exhales with a puff of frustration and taps a naked foot over the floor.

No portion of the solid wall disappears, either.

She uncrosses both arms and stomps to the grounded sandals, sliding a foot into each shoe and stands upright, staring at the other solid walls.

No portion of the solid wall disappears, again.

She moves ahead with a confused brow and stops, standing and leans into the wall, without touching it. Her Touch eyeballs see an array of sparkling tiny speckles of ejon white, making up the wall. She gasps. “It is an ejon wall,” she snaps her fingers. “That was how Womack made it open, when his fingernails touched the wall. And I touched the wall with my back. Could it be?” She reaches out and extends an index finger toward the solid wall with a smile. “And I am made of ejon, too.” She slams the wall with a hand and a giggle.

The solid wall disappears and reveals a different prison cell of emptiness.

She back steps with a gasp from the new prison cell and drops open a mouth. “No. Yes. No. Yes.”

Parra swirls around with a growl and marches from the prison cell space, down the hallway, and then stops inside the receiving room. She scans the room, seeing no other Dihe visitors for the late afternoon. “Why not? The Dihe are eating their cats or rats or some other cooked dead animals for food during mealtime.” She marches ahead with a sneer to the solid wall that has been created from the invisible protecting shield of Dihe Pelta.

She carefully leans into the wall, not feeling any heat waves on her nose tip. Her Touch eyeballs see an array of tiny white ejon dots, not a solid wall of matter. She back steps with a gasp and whisper. “The shield wall is off, since the red array is missing from Pelta. Why is this so? Who cares this is so? I bet that I can touch it and then walk into the room with Pelta. Then, what? The Dihe Mistress metal-thingy will zap me. Maybe not, Womack held my hand, telling the metal machine entity, that we are friends, not foes.” She claps with a nod and a smile. “All this is worth a try, escaping from Mercian. Cotana will be so proud of me,” she gasps. “My bato, my first task, tracking down the teen dub, beating him bloody and then getting my weapon back,” she exhales with nervousness.

Parra slowly advances to the white wall again and stands closer, not feeling any heat. She closes her eyelashes, lifting both palms, even with a face. She slowly pushes her palms toward the wall, not wanting to chicken out of the daring deed. She leans toward the wall. Then, both palms slap the wall.

The solid wall disappears.

Parra falls forward and catches a body with the Touch, posing in a horizontal position over the floor with a giggle, slowly stands upright onto the solid floor. She turns and stares Pelta, not moving, not breathing.

Pelta sits inside the dark wall corner, looking dull gray, not bright white metal. It has not activated her emergency protocols, either.

Parra grins. The Dihe metal machine must be broken, since exhibiting massive amounts of Touch shielding on yesterday and this morning. Parra performs a Touch lift from the floor and a Touch air walk toward the ancient cammic.

Cammic means telephone without picture.

The cammic is a rectangular shaped machine that is built into the dull beige and peeling wall plaster, looking both dull ancient and rusty gray metal. It has a small square within the rusty gray metal, containing a single speaker box which is made of weaved wire for audio speaking. There is no camtube for a visual face.

Parra stops and stands in front of the cammic with a sigh. She sees a single gray button and lifts a hand, halting and ponders if she should touch it with a naked finger. She turns and stares at the metal mistress. Pelta is still asleep. Parra turns and slams the button with a naked finger.

The cammic activates in little silver tinted lines with a mechanic drone. “Please, state time measurements required for the exact communication parameters, Dihe?”

She frowns at the cammic. “Measurements, the time measurements are clicks.”

“That statement does not compute,” the voice of the cammic drones.

She flips both arms into the air and slams the skirt with a confused brow. “A number, it represents the time measurement of the communication message to Cotana, you stupid dub. I just need a few time measurements for him to hear my voice, knowing that I’m alive and here on Mercian. Cotana doesn’t know my exact location, but I do. Five blinks!” She nods with a grin.

“That statement does not compute,” the voice of the cammic drones.

She gasps. “Not correct, Parra! Think, Parra! That Prime boy named Nimtarts he listed the Dihe time measurements, this eve. I really wasn’t paying attention. I was plotting my escape from him and the prison building. Okay, five flicks!” She nods with a smile.

“That statement does not compute,” the voice of the cammic drones.

She gasps. “Okay, I’m recalling correctly. Five ticks!”

“That statement does not compute,” the voice of the cammic drones.

She slices her eyelashes back to Pelta that is still in sleep mode. She wonders why the mechanical Dihe Mistress does not alert Womack of her dangerous maneuver, coming out of the prison and working on the cammic.

If Parra could get the cammic to work, she could call Cotana, revealing her secret location on Mercian and then execute a rescue, during the shadow time. His luxury spinner is both too new and too fast, easily crossing through river of time within Intragalaxy, sailing in record time, coming for her. Before the rescue, Parra would run and hide within the forest boundary, waiting for him. She memorized the landscape from her short walk with Womack, exiting from her personal spinner hatchway toward the closed doorway of the prison building, noting the forest tree lines.

Parra cuts her eyelashes back to the speaker, concentrating a slow working mind on the Dihe term for time measurements, tossing both arms with a giggle. “Okay, alright, it is not blinks or flicks or ticks. It sounds like a clock. Tocks. Five tocks!”

“That statement does not compute,” the voice of the cammic drones.

“Minutes…”

She smiles at the cammic, “Five minutes!”

The cammic drones. “Please, state your destination.”

The Touch tells her so. Parra blinks at the speaker box with a puzzled brow and turns with a gasp to see him, “You!”

Tarn stands inside the carriage and tilts a chin with a smile at Parra. “The word which you didn’t remember from Nimtarts’ teaching is minutes, not tocks. Is that a new Vilo term like tick-tock on the…?”

Parra dashes toward the open elevator carriage for an escape out of his arm span.

Tarn leaps to the side and lands on top of her long legs again for a second time. They drop down and fall, hitting the floor. He crawls and covers her body with a smile and a chuckle. “You’re swift, but I’m swifter,” laughing.

“Off me.”

Tarn smiles into her. “I like it here, princess. You are struggling, me not. I barely broke a sweat from holding you hostage, yet again, against your violent hostile not-nicey action,” laughing.

She shifts and lifts an upper body from the tile with her physical and ejon strength, wiggling and waggling out of his arms without success. She gently falls against the tile with a pant of fury. “Don’t touch me, again.”

Tarn shifts forward and covers her entire body with the boots, both legs, both thighs, both hips, and a entire chest, shifting both arms, overlaying her swinging arms and wavering hands. He ties her wrists with his hands down to the tile, whispering softly into her ear. “Sorry, princess! You stay here, until my dad releases you. Hopefully, that’s soonest, at least for me.”

She pants with fury. “Don’t belong here!”

“But, I belong here,” he leans down and touches the whiskers into her soft cheekbone with a smile.

She whips a face away from him with a pant of fury. “Let me go…”

“Not my decision, princess.”

She wiggles side to side inside his chest with a sneer. “Talk to your father. Pay for my release.”

“Again, it is not my decision. And believe me, I would accept your shives, your riches in a heartbeat just to see your fanny sashay back into your spinner and fly off of Mercian forever…”

“Pay you…”

“A bribe, nice move! The answer’s still no. My mom raised me ethnically. What about your mom?”

“Dub.”

“I don’t really like that new, well, old Vilo word, princess. I bet it means something bad or worse nasty. Please tell me what it means?”

“Dub.”

“Yeah, I’m a dub. And, yeah, you’re mine, again.” Tarn leans down and snuggles a nose into her soft creamed colored hair, touching her soft liver skin and inhales, smelling a delightful fragrance of flowers, inflaming my teenling sinuses.

He sorta likes but not greatly loves Foxi like Nimtarts loves her litter mate Voxi.

Foxi has soft fur on her cat-like body which is softer than the skin of Parra. But, Foxi smells different like pine and musk, an outdoor fresh, light odor, not sweet fragranced perfume. Foxi possesses natural pheromones which are hard, rich, exotic, daylight of sunshine, burning forest floral of pine needles.

Parra is deep, dark, sensual sultry nightly scent of roses and irises with a touch of light vanilla, not overly sweet to his nostrils and his teenling hormones.

He whispers, “Just right!”

“Not right for me,” she pants with fury and jerks both legs up in the air, struggling hopelessly against the two hundred and fifty pounds of ripped toned hard muscles of Tarn that is glued down onto top of her upper shoulder blades and then down to her lower hips.

Tarn rolls off her body and stands upright, extending a hand to her. Parra grabs it. He easily tap into his ejon energy and vertically yanks over one hundred and twenty five pounds (give or take three pounds) into the air and then land Parra into a standing stance with a chuckle. He leans over and cuddles Parra close from escaping for a second time.

Parra exhales from annoyance and darts her eyelashes at the closed door, twirling Tarn in a series of circles with a grin and a giggle for pretend fun. She eyes the elevator carriage, coming around the next circle, making him dizzy with love or lust as they are so close and sweat on each other.

The Touch tells him so. Tarn swirls her in numerous circles faster and reads her open mind. She desires to escape through the elevator door and then hide inside the forest trees. Then, he halts the circle with a chuckle and cuddles her.

Her eyesight balances back to an equilibrium point along with her rocking brain cells and as she hisses into his face.

He wraps more arm muscles around her slender form, preventing another impromptu escape from the prison and his body. His dad Womack would not be pleased at that impromptu event. However, Tarn gets the distinct imprint, coming into his active mental thoughts that my mom feels differently.

He tightens the arms strength around Parra with a smile. He cannot rely singularly upon his physical strength, only. This girl requires every molecule of his tough teenling flesh, hard bone, and unlimited ejon to hold her at bay.

She pants with fury. “Don’t touch me.”

“I was taught at a very early age that touch is elegant, provocative, sensational, and romantic. All folded together like a present…”

“I’m not your present.”

“But, its affect are only minimal, if perceived as superficial.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Ah, superficial!”

Parra holds an acidic tongue, inhaling through her nostrils the delicious, bad-boy scent of tangy citrus and warm spices. His body odor immerses her olfactory senses into delicious, frisky, and risky mental thoughts, bumping around her brain cells as she clangs to his body, helplessly. Her emotions respond pleasurably to this tall, handsome, strong dub in ways she couldn’t explain or express.

She is the princess of the Vilo, the future mate of Prince Cotana, and first Shade of the ejon. No other male could possible fill that function.

Function, the word lingers inside her active mind along with duty, responsibility, obligation, and commitment.

Parra is committed to the ways of Vilo to marry Cotana and to rule queen of Ultimedia, servicing the Ultimedia Society of Lords, Ladies, Shades, Trist servants, and Doxi slaves.

She relaxes a tense body, slumping down into his strong arms. Fighting him is not easy. Actually, she finds the physical activity, quite exhausting and fun.

Cotana does not engage her, even during their pretend Chap exercises at his tun. He does not notice her all the time either, only when she approaches him at his tun or at the dance. He busies with his personal Trist servants and the gorgeous sexy Doxi slaves.

Well, if Cotana could see her now in the arms of another male, Parra might get a nice reaction from him. As well as, Cotana would give a permanent nasty one and then kill Tarn, directly sawing his healthy biological heart with his bato.

Tarn gently shakes her body with a smile. “You’re cooperating nicey-nice, Your Highmarkness.” He looks up with a stern face to see the enclosed room, without a window or an exit point, double checking any odd alignment and looks at her. “What crafty plans are you daydreaming inside your mental space? Hmm!”

Second Prime Tarn. Pelta links, connects, Touch minds to Tarn and Parra. It wears a bright white glow.

Parra and Tarn slowly twist a neck muscle and two eyeballs to see the machine. It activates with a series of red, blue, and green colored lights, flashing around the metal stomach and then it rises from the tile in a pool of stream.

Tarn whispers with worry, “Pelta.”

Why has Princess Parra of Vilo withdrawal from her sealed and secured apartment, possibility become harmed or injured? Pelta performs a Touch lift from the floor with additional white stream and a Touch float in the air.

Parra shakes violently with fear and fright, since the machine has been ordered to contain her presence within the tiny apartment cell.

Pelta links, connects, and Touch minds to Tarn and Parra. And why are you here, second Prime Tarn, to possibility harm or injure Princess Parra?

Tarn swallows the bitter bile back down a throat and whispers, since the Pelta hears both mental and audio sounds. “My apologies, Pelta! I…I am here for…to…uh…I allowed Parra to use…the…the cammic. She wanted to talk her mommie. Yeah, she wanted to speak to her mommie. We, teenlings love our mommies. All teenlings miss their mommies, too. You know our mommies give birth to us, the son and the daughter of our mommy.”

Pelta halts in the air. The surface lights blinks on and off violently. It is pondering the statement. The surface light freezes on the color red. Pelta links, connects, and Touch minds to Tarn and Parra. Second Prime Tarn, you did not submit your request for verbal, electronic, or facial communication outside the space boundaries of the Dihe outpost of Mercian with accustomed permission from High Dihe Master Womack.

Tarn holds a breath, not moving. His heart rate jumps, rapidly. His pulse races, wildly. He drops a right fighting hand to the side, outlining the bato with all five finger pads.

Pelta has not been utilized for any Dihe assignment in 10,000 years.

The last appearance of a bunch of Vilo warriors, they were brought to this structure as a gang of prisoners during the civil war. The machine was programmed to honor its commitment, containing the inmates from escaping the fortress which the Dihe clan had approved and carries out by a set of secretive unknown methods.

Tarn does not understand the mysterious intention of Pelta toward Parra as it seen through its sensor arrays as a prisoner of the Dihe. Now, Parra is currently an escaped prisoner of the Dihe. And Tarn does not understand the mechanic keen interest in his person either, since he is not an escaping prisoner of the Dihe.

However, Tarn will fight Pelta, before Pelta gets to Parra.

Pelta links, connect, and Touch minds into Tarn and Parra. I have contacted and acquired. You have been granted permission by High Dihe Master Womack. Princess Parra of Vilo is ordered to retire to the apartment cell for her security and safety.

Parra exhales with a puff of relieve.

Tarn exhales with a huff of relieve with a grin. “Thanks, Pelta! I will escort her back, now. See, we are walking, not talking.” Parra and Tarn turn and stroll hand-and-hand, dashing through the missing twin gates and into the receiving room of the prison building. “See Pelta, we are walking through the gates and disappearing into the prison walls.” They enter and stop, standing a few feet into the room in silence. He turns and frowns at the nose profile of Parra. “Sorry about that.”

Parra turns and gasps at Tarn. “You…you were going to defend me and fight for my safety.”

He looks behind a collar bone at the missing gates with a worried brow and to her, “Sorry about that, again! Pelta’s old, maybe ancient is a better term,” chuckling.

Parra gasps. “You were going to fight with Pelta for me. I’m Vilo.”

“Naw, that old rust bucket is fragile. I got to go. Okay?” He does not back step from her and her sweet odor with a smile.

She smiles. “Thank you, Tarn. You saved me. You saved my life, just now.”

Tarn lifts and flips a hand, shaking his curls. “Naw, I didn’t. My dad did it. Okay?” He looks over behind a collar bone at the missing gates and her with a worried brow. “However, don’t do that trick, again. You know mess with bots? Dad’s going to go dack crazy…”

“I didn’t.”

“Look, Pelta’s kinda sensitive about her Dihe assignments. Her circuits and wiring in this cave are really worn…”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You shocked the electronics, marching out of the gate like a pon-pon pony, wearing ribbons.”

Parra drops open a mouth. “No, Tarn. I mean, yes, Tarn. I took the advantage and galloped through the archway, but I didn’t trick the bot’s electronic system.”

He chuckles with a wink. “Of course, you did. How else could you escape the deadly shielding?”

She frowns. “The shielding was down. I tried to escape like a good prisoner.”

He laughs. “Good thing, you’re a lousy fighter.”

She winks. “Good thing, I couldn’t get the cammic…”

He gasps. “Cammic, do you know any more Dihe terms?”

She giggles. “It is a set of stolen Vilo technology and a poor namely Dihe term. Anyways, if it had worked for me first, then I would’ve been long gone like that.” Parra snaps the fingers with a smirk.

He shakes his curls with a laugh. “Doubt it! You don’t know any more Dihe terms. Can you even fly?”

She smiles. “Yes, I can fly and pilot a spinner, another piece of stolen Vilo technology. Of course, I’m a space cadet.”

“In my world, a space cadet means one, novice or two, crazy. Which are you, again?” He winks with a smile.

She frowns. “I can fly.”

“Good data to share, especially with me, your sworn and deadly enemy.”

She gasps. “You tricked me.”

“Naw, I just saved your cute fanny which by the way felt really underneath my…yeah.”

“Tarn!”

He winks with a chuckle, “Looky there, you are calling me by my given name. What progress a princess can advance with excited with pressure, maybe?”

“Pressure?”

“Or you are just plain scared?”

“I was not scared.”

“I don’t believe you. Well, I’m running out of time. But might I say, I’m having lots of fun here now.”

She drops open a mouth, “Out of time, what does that mean?”

He smiles. “Translation, cutie, I gotta go to there. You gotta stay in here. Sorry, sweet-tart! So, when did you note the deadly shielding was down, executing your escape?”

She frowns, “Sweet-tart?”

He winks. “Pet name, sweet-tart, when did you notice the shielding de-activated?”

“After High Dihe Mistress Maries left my apartment…”

He gasps. “Maries, Dihe Mistress Maries…”

“Yes.”

He narrows both eyelids with a stern face and a serious tone at her. “Are you absolutely positively certain, Parra?”

“Yes, Tarn.”

He lifts an arm from the floor with a worried brow. “She stands at five feet and ten inches with a head of blonde hair…”

“Pale complexion, tall, slim, unladylike sneer…”

“Yipe, that’s Maries.”

“Why is that important? Wait, she is your mom. What does it all mean, Tarn?”

He frowns. “My mom visited you.”

“It was more like a wicked interrogation rather than a nice visitation. Your dad is sweet with me.”

“Male hormones,” he winks.

She frowns with fury. “What did you say, Tarn?”

He lifts both palms with a nod. “Looky, stay put in here inside the prison room! The shielding probably de-activated someway or somehow during Pelta’s sleep mode. If that happens again, do not leave the prison compartment, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods.

“You’re a good sweet-tart. If anything strange…”

“What do you mean by strange, sweet-tart?”

He smiles. “I will see you tomorrow morning around seven, before my schooling. That’s early, after the sunrise.”

“I’m not a dub. I can tell time.”

He grins, “Excellent, sweet-tart! I gotta go, out of time,” he man-pull her into a chest and cuddles, lightly pecking her soft cheekbone. She exhales with a puff of joy and feels his warm breathe. Then, he pulls back with a smile and back steps, scooting around her, moving through the twin gates and swings around with a smile and halts behind the missing gates with a wink. At her, “Just a peck, not a kiss.”

“Just a dub, not a man!” Parra gasps in shock and slaps both hands down over the tore and stained gown in fury.

He lifts and wiggles her re-stolen bato in the air beside an evil smirk. She had stolen it from his vest during the struggle of their heated bodies, rolling over the wall, on the floor, and in the air waves without a sweet kiss on the lips.

Parra drops open and closes a mouth, stomping the sandals in fury, sounding with a series of hisses, snarls, and sneers at Tarn.

He smiles with glee at her beautiful face and her body features that are locked inside his mind forever. “Secure it, Pelta!”

The solid prison wall appears, separating Tarn and Parra, again.

He swings around and dashes into the open carriage with a chuckle and a smile, slamming the wall with a naked hand. The wall appears. The carriage lifts upward to the ground floor.

The elevator door stops. The solid wall vanishes.

Tarn dashes ahead and slams a hand of ejon into the closed door.

The door opened.

He slowly strolls over the pavement for home and dinner, reaching up and touches the lips, smelling her vanilla fragrance with a whisper and a grin of happiness. “Parra smells, so good. Every human-kind and species-kind has a smell to my old nose holes. Nimtarts has a woodsy oak moss stench. Voxi, her kitty limbs smell like wild jasmine and cool cinnamon. The zebra twins of Ceffee and Etazela are a fruity blend of peach and violet. Gamnon, his large and wide elephant body smells like earthly myrrh and patchouli. Moro, the nasty rat stinks like pungent pepper and lemon peels. Yachats is lightness of bug spray which is to dack to my nostrils,” laughing. “Quimpher, his octopus body is crisp, clean, fresh scent from the ocean water, kinda aquatic. Zeelee smells like amber and honeysuckle. Cherwell does not stink. Her body odor is a combination of heavy figs and juicy coconut. Collum, his monkey body holds a meaty scent of leaves and nutmeg. A sweet orchid smell comes from my little bee friend Taradash. And the only lion body roaming around Dihe outpost one is Teeger. He smells like sage and basil, very refreshing and crisp, too,” he laughs with a nod. “Yeah, she smells the ‘bestest’ and she is a keeper, too. My dad has good taste in females,” he performs a Touch run back to home.

 

 

Hours 21 and minutes 01

Hof of Maries, Womack, and Tarn

Early evening

Full moon with bright stars

Dining room setting

 

 

Womack stands and moves around the table, arranging the eating plates, utensils, and the cloth napkins around the table inside the dining room for suppertime.

Maries appears and stands inside the archway. She is the daughter of the former and formal High Dihe Master and Mistress of Intragalaxy. Unlike the fictional heroes and heroines, the popular, authoritarian, and respectful paranormal couple has retired living on the exo-planetoid Koorskis.

Her father Brezzles enjoys a mug of Atum beer, every afternoon. Her mother Lilies plants a golden fruit tree on the estate homestead, every morning for profit and fun.

Since the first day of marriage, Womack gently had requested the formal setting with formal accouterments for the evening meal which was always prepared by droid-housekeeper for his family, consisting of his wife Maries and only child Tarn.

He places a plate on top of the cloth placement with a smile. “Did you speak with Parra at the prison, today?”

She grins inside the archway. “The Vilo Princess, yes, she was nervous.”

“You didn’t intimidate her, did you, Maries?” He scoots around the table and fiddles with the plates.

Maries crosses both arms with a sneer. “Ha, I intimidate a little girl from the most powerful Toucher of Intragalaxy. I’m not crass, crafty, or boorish, Womack.”

He places the utensils around the plate with a sour frown. “Good to know for me, Maries! Because, I would not completely comprehend and would highly object to your childish crass or boorish adult behavior toward a royal within our air space of Intragalaxy.”

Maries drops open a mouth. “You like her.”

“Very much so,” he places a drinking tumbler around each empty eating plate.

She exhales. “How long is she slumbering inside the old prison?”

“Her accommodations are safe.”

“We have un-leashed the moog.”

“What moog?” He fiddles with each plate with a stern face.

“The moog has been written in the old scrolls, locked in MED center blocks.”

“The moog is a silly childish myth that was created by adults to secure a whinny child into the warmth of a bedcovers. I can be shore with confidence and arrogance.” He folds each cloth napkin with a chuckle.

She moves inside and stands at the head of the dining table with a sour frown. “Dark matter dictates the structure of Intragalaxy.”

He scoots around and straightens each napkin, making the table nice for supper. “It does not, Maries.”

She crosses both arms with a nod. “Dark matter forms an immeasurable barrier around the universe.”

He straightens the crooked plate with a laugh. “That is more of the childish myth for the bad behaving teens, Maries.”

“Why didn’t we travel outside Intragalaxy?” She frowns.

He scoots around the table and fiddles with each placement setting. “Why would we? What is out there to see more galaxies? More planets? More human-kind? More of something else?”

She nods. “Yes.”

He scoots around the table and fiddles with each drinking tumbler with a smile, “Intragalaxy is full, as far as, I am concerned.”

“I do not debate logic or the Touch. The Touch tells me so.”

He scoots around and fiddles with each plate again with a smile. “What does the Touch tell about out the gas and dust particles, outlining the edge of Intragalaxy?”

She stomps a boot toe with a sneer. “She is the curse.”

He stops and jerks up with a sneer to see his wife. “Cease, Maries, now!”

She giggles with a smirk. “Our smart scientists have accurately measured Intragalaxy. The galaxy is precisely measured in the math dimensions of five hundred million light years long, three hundred million light years wide, and one hundred and fifty million light years thick. Where did she come from this Princess Parra?”

“Vilo,” He looks down with a stern face and examines the plate settings, again.

“I find it interesting that you continue to argue that the Vilo doesn’t exist.”

He fiddles with the napkins with a smile. “I never say that. I said the Vilo Society doesn’t want to be discovered within their tiny territory of Intragalaxy. You like to confuse and compare my words with yours.”

“I find it interesting that the Dihe do not know how much farther the barrier extends, due to the plane limitation of Intragalaxy. Gas and dust obscure the view of scientists, making it impossible to determine, if the barrier ends or continues…”

He back steps with a nod from the nice table setting for supper. “I tire of the too wane conversation. Do you have a valid point, High Mistress Dihe Maries?”

“My point ends with the Noti culture. No one known of their origins, either. They are now dead, ceased out of existence, compliments of the Vilo. Thus, the Vilo have found the Dihe first, before the Dihe found the Vilo.”

“That’s conjecture, speculation, flat Atum beer, which I hate by the way. Our thorough Dihe investigation didn’t conclude your preferred outcome.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m not an inspector of justice. I’m a Dihe gatekeeper of Intragalaxy. My duty begins and ends with that task.”

“Task, the Vilo humans are simply one of our many tasks.”

“The Vilo humans are a society, exhibiting both proper grace and good table manners, lacking sophisticated technology.”

“How is that possible?”

“They steal ours.”

She nods with a grin. “Now, we have evidence and justification to arrest them accounts of espionage…”

He reaches down and fiddles with the napkin. “Maries, do you have another invalid point to measure for my earlobes?”

She exhales. “Release the Vilo princess!”

He shakes a skull and fiddles with the eating utensils. “That’s your opinion which does not influence my decision. She stays.”

“Her kind…”

He back steps and admires the table setting with a smile. “The kind has a name which is called humans. Humans are their kind which is very similar to me and you with a pair of two eyes, one nose, good teeth, bad breathe.

She gasps. “I do not have bad breath.”

“Then, you need to go into the lavatory, before our supper is served.” He reaches down and straightens the goblet with a laugh. “I strongly suggest utilizing the term human, as long as, Parra lives within the prison walls with my permission and authority as High Master Dihe.”

Maries swings around with a sour frown and strolls through the kitchen and enters the private lavatory.

The door closes.

 

 

Front door setting

 

 

The door slams open.

Tarn enters the living room and halts with a smile, sniffing the air with a whisper. “Yeah, a familiar smell within my Touch nostrils. My mom smells like mint. My dad sounds like a hint of fresh blueberries,” He stomps on a pair of dirt boot heels over the clean tiles with a smile and a yell. “I’m hungry. Mom?”

 

 

Dining room setting

 

 

Maries returns from the lavatory with fresh mouth breathe and stands inside the archway of the dining room with a yell. “We’re inside the dining room. Time for supper! Tarn, where have you been?”

Tarn dashes through the archway with a smile to see the nice table setting that is always provided by his dad. My mom stands behind her chair at the end of the square table like always. He scans the room with a grin. “Where’s Dad?”

Maries stands behind the chair and waits for her son to scoot out the eating chair like a Dihe gentleman with a stern face. “It is supper time, night fall. What is so important that you could not call me, telling me your whereabouts, this afternoon?”

Tarn turns and struts, shoving the eating chair away from the table surface with a sour frown. He doesn’t understand why his mother can’t do it herself as she is the ‘bestest’ Toucher within Intragalaxy. She sits with a smile at the head of the table in silence. Then, he side steps and slides into the empty chair at the side of the table which is between his mom and his dad, flopping both elbows onto the table with a grin, “Dad!”

The droid-housekeeper rolls inside the dining room and pushes a hovering tray of hot steaming food.

Womack appears and stands inside the archway with a nod to his son and his wife Maries. “Tarn, good evening! I have received more controversial instructions from Yamhill, Maries.” He strolls ahead and turns, sitting inside his chair at the other end of the table like always beside his son, waiting for the droid-housekeeper to fill an empty food platter.

Maries reaches and lifts a fork, staring down with a smile at the nice food items, “That all can wait for the moment until after suppertime, Womack.” She eats the food and chews.

Tarn reaches and lifts a fork, filling a mouth with food, chewing. “I was…”

She chews and swallows the food with a smile at the nose profile of Tarn. “Foxi left, oh, about a dozen or so messages for you, Tarn.”

He chews and swallows the food with a grin, “At Nimtarts. Mom, sorry! I lost tick-tocks on the clock,” Tarn stabs the food with a chuckle and eats, chewing.

She frowns at Tarn, “What nonsensical wording? Do you have homework? How’s your arm feeling?”

“Don’t baby the new first Prime, Maries!” Womack stabs the food with a smile and eats another bit of food, chewing.

She turns and frowns at Womack. “He is my baby until the day that I die.”

Tarn turns and gasps at Womack. “New first Prime, what nonsensical wording is that, Dad?” He stabs the food with a laugh and eats the item, chewing.

She reaches over and taps Tarn on the arm with a nod and a grin. “That was why I was searching for you, Tarn dear. You have earned the rights, privileges, and title of first Prime.”

Tarn swallows the food and looks down with a sour frown and stirs the other items into a pile. “I failed in the Tag, last week.”

She smiles at his blonde hair roots like hers. “You failed your prepared Tag of a first Prime, which had been violently interrupted and gallantly exhibited as an accomplished first Prime, exhibiting outstanding first Prime talents in front of all the Dihe Masters and Mistresses.”

Tarn frowns at the stirred food. “I was wounded, blooding, and embarrassingly saved by first Prime Foxi.”

She continues to smile down at his blonde hair roots like hers. “And she was equally awarded Dihe Mistress for her outstanding Dihe display that day, too.”

Tran lifts the fork of food with a confused brow. “That wasn’t a display or play, Mom. It was war. We were attacked by some crazy body parts of dead and mutilated Vilo warriors.”

“Let us not re-hash the olden days, son! The point, Maries is dramatizing badly. You earned the right of first Prime. Congratulations, Tarn! I’m very proud, pleaded, and honored to call you, son and first Prime.” Womack nods with a smile to Tarn.

Tarn turns and smiles at Womack. “Thanks, Dad.”

Maries reaches and taps Tarn on the arm with a smile and a nod. “I love you, Tarn. This is a special day in your long, long life of greater achievements. You are fated for great things within the Dihe clan, following my footsteps like your grandparents, who both earned the highest honor of Dihe traditions.”

Tarn turns and grins to his mom, “I agree. Yeah, Mom, this has been a great day and great evening in my life. Thanks! And, I love you, too.”

“The mastership of Nimtarts is rubbing off on you, Tarn.” Womack stabs the food and eats with a grin.

Tarn turns and nods to Womack. “Nimtarts likes to give pointers.”

She nods with a smile, “Excellent, I like to see you Tag for mastership within six months…”

Womack frowns. “That soon, Maries?” He lifts and holds up a palm with wink at Tarn.

“Too soonest, for me!” Tarn reaches over and slaps the open palm of Womack with a chuckle.

She exhales. “I disagree, totally. Tarn is very powerful and very talented, coming directly from several pairs of good DNA when he applies himself, thoroughly.”

“I guess.” Tarn looks down with a stern face and stabs the food, eating and chews.

Womack turns and smiles at his wife. “Maries, Pelta informed me. Her shielding got tainted, resulting in a stationary de-activation mode.”

She nods with a smile. “Good, she is gone,” she stabs the food and eats, chewing.

Womack grins. “No, the Vilo princess did not escape, successfully. There was an attempt executed, thou. However, she was recaptured moments later, by Pelta.”

She pouts. “Pfft! You should release her, Womack. She serves no purpose in our destiny.”

“What destiny, Mom?” Tarn turns and frowns at the nose profile of his mother.

She chews and swallows with a smile to Tarn, “Our Dihe destiny, your Dihe destiny, my Dihe destiny, Tarn, dear!”

“I think your mom means dynasty.” Womack stabs the food with a chuckle and eats, chewing.

He smiles. “I can’t believe how that ancient trashcan is still functioning, properly. How old is Pelta?”

He swallows the food with a grin, “Older than me.”

She frowns with fury. “I can only advice that you watch Pelta’s electronics, most carefully, Womack. The next event might result in her untimely death…”

The Touch tells him so. Womack stands from the chair with a sneer and drops a chin down into a chest, looking with a smile at the tile and Maries. “The Touch tells me, not so.” He sits back down and lifts the fork and the knife, cutting into the food with a grin.

She grins at the black colored hair roots of Womack. “The Touch tells me. You should listen to my wise, smart advice. Release the girl, most quickly! Or watch the electronics, more carefully!”

Womack chews and swallows with a smile. “I enjoy pondering your Touch, my wife Maries. I will take your information under extreme advisement, more swiftly.”

“Good,” she looks down a smile and stabs the food, eating and chews.

“Dad?” Tarn turns and frowns at the nose profile of Womack.

Womack stares with a sour frown at Maries, “Yes, Tarn.”

Tarn waves a hand and scoops up a forkful of food. “I agree with Mom that old rust bucket…”

Womack turns and frowns at Tarn. “You are referencing Dihe Mistress Pelta that I am taking, very badly. You are exhibiting very poor social skills, Tarn, for a newly ranked first Prime. Where in the universe would you imitate those bad habits?”

“Sorry, Dad!” Tarn looks down a stern face and stirs the food with the fork.

Womack nods. “Apology accepted.”

Tarn clears a throat and views Womack with a stern face. “I believe that Dihe Mistress Pelta is outdated for her current duty. I think that we should house the Vilo princess in our home…”

She gasps with a sour frown at Womack and Tarn. “Forbidden, absolutely forbidden, I will not allow that girl to come in here never, ever, forbidden.”

Tarn turns and frowns at his mother. “Mom, she is all alone. She does not have any friends like her royal staff and such.”

She gasps with a sneer at Womack. “Do you want to invite her royal entourage here on Mercian, too, Womack.”

Tarn laughs. “It was my original idea, Mom.”

Womack drops the utensils over the plate with a ting and slaps both hands on the table with a smile and a nod. “Tarn is right, of course.”

She sneers. “Send her back, now.”

“No,” he stabs the food with a smile and eats, chewing, swallowing.

She snarls at Womack. “Release her, now.”

“No,” he stabs the food with a smile and eats, chewing, swallowing.

She growls. “She is a liability to us.”

“No,” he stabs the food with a smile and eats, chewing, swallowing.

She frowns. “She is creating chaos, among the Dihe clan members.”

“No,” he stabs the food with a grin and eats, chewing, swallowing.

She frowns, “She is causing the riots on Mercian.”

“No,” he stabs the food with a grin and eats, chewing and swallowing.

“Why keep her?” She exhales.

Womack looks up with a smile of food between the teeth. “I have my reasons, Maries.”

Tarn turns and smiles at Womack. “Do they include ransoming her for riches?”

“No,” he stabs the food with a grin and eats, chewing, swallowing.

Tarn nods with a smile. “Do they include accumulating more planets from the Vilo Society?”

“No,” he stabs the food with a grin and eats, chewing and swallowing.

Tarn exhales. “Do they include an exchange of technology from the Ultimedia home world?”

“No,” he stabs the food and eats, chewing and swallowing.

She frowns with annoyance. “Why keep her here on Mercian?”

Womack grins at his wife. “I have been tasked by first Governor Yamhill and second Governor Orofin to locate the Vilo cluster.”

She slaps a hand on the table with a nod. “You succeeded. They exist. We are done. You are done, Womack. Release her and let her go home!”

He grins. “I have been tasked by first Governor Yamhill and second Governor Orofino, leaders of the Establishment to officially contact them, a few minutes ago.”

She gasps with a sneer. “No, that is a fib.”

He grins, “The truth, Maries!”

She gasps with a snarl. “Dihe do not need to contact the Vilo. They are the enemy.”

He grins. “Another false truth, Maries, I will contact the Vilo from here.”

She sneers. “Give away our advantage point.”

He chuckles. “This isn’t war, Maries.

She growls. “They are the enemy.”

He exhales. “They have lived and survived for 1,000 years on their home cluster of planets without our acknowledgment, aid, or batos. We don’t want a fight in here or out there, High Dihe Mistress Maries.”

She sneers. “The Vilo destroyed Chamme.”

“You, we do not know the real facts, regarding Chamme, Maries.” He shakes a skull and stabs the food, eating and chews.

She slaps a hand on the table surface with a sour frown. “Then, ask her? She was there on Chamme, too.”

“Parra wasn’t there, during the attack.” Womack stabs the food with a grin and eats, chewing and swallowing.

She frowns. “She was there. You captured her, Womack.”

“Parra was with us.” Tarn turns and grins at the nose profile of Maries.

She turns and frowns at her son. “Us, you and…”

“Me.” Womack grins at her.

She gasps. “I didn’t believe this. You, you found her, Womack.”

“Actually, it was Tarn.” He reaches over and fist bumps with Tarn with a chuckle.

She shakes both her hands and her curls. “Tarn, no, he couldn’t have. How did you find her, Womack?”

Tarn lifts both arms and hands with the eating utensils with a grin. “I did.”

She turns with a gasp and drops open a mouth at Tarn. “You had selected Chamme for the rendezvous point from the wall map, remember, Tarn?”

Tarn nods with a grin. “Yeah, I guessed good, too, getting Chamme.”

She drops open a mouth. “You guessed at the planet. Out of all the hundreds of rotating planets, stars, and asteroids within Intragalaxy, you guessed at Chamme.”

Womack nods with a laugh. “Tarn possesses a batch of excellent Touch clarity, Maries. Can you test him tomorrow for verification? It must be all these good DNA molecules, right, Maries?” He reaches over and fist bumps with Tarn for a second time. They laugh and then stab the food, eating and chewing.

She shakes her hands and her curls. “I am completely confused. You did not guess but used your Touch clarity to establish the first visitation of Chamme from the Intragalaxy wall map, yesterday.”

Tarn swallows the food with a nod and a laugh. “Yeah, shore, and it just felt right.”

“Felt right!” He reaches out and hand slaps with Tarn for a second time. Then, they chuckle and stab the food item, chewing.

“Felt right?” She frowns at Tarn.

Tarn swallows the food with a nod and a smile. “That’s not an official description, I know. But, it felt like the right planet to visit, first.”

She frowns. “Felt right, what else within your Touch also felt right, Tarn?”

Tarn shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t know. We docked, walked to the mall.”

She gasps. “She was there within plain naked eyesight inside the shopping mall of Chamme.”

Tarn smiles, “O boy, I guess. O girl, Parra and her entire royal and color coordinated entourage. Remember, Dad?”

Womack chuckles, “O girl, a Vilo princess does not travel lightly. You are correct, Tarn.”

Tarn smiles, “Naw, they were hundreds of servants…”

She frowns at Tarn. “Servants, how do you distinguish them from the warriors, observing their manners?”

“The line-up.” Tarn reaches over with a chuckle and fist bumps with Womack. They both chuckles and stab the food, eating, chewing.

“Line up?” She frowns.

Tarn swallows the food with a smile. “The proper Vilo protocol includes rank, file, and order of royalty first, then followed by workers, and then slaves.”

She gasps. “I didn’t know that. How did you come to know her princess face, Womack?”

Tarn turns and winks at Womack. “Keen observation and…”

“Mind probing the males next to us,” Womack laughs.

She shakes a finger at her husband with a grin. “You probed without permission. Tsk, tsk, that is not proper Dihe etiquette, Womack.”

Womack points with a grin at his son. “Tarn started it. I just followed through to set a bad example for the kid.”

Tarn frowns. “Hey, I got whacked for that act.”

She gasps. “You hit my son.”

“Never in a day without winning a physical retort,” Womack laughs.

“Thanks for the compliment, Dad!” Tarn grins and stabs the food, eating and chewing.

She nods with a smile. “Thank you for the clarification, Tarn. I believe that you did use your Touch clarity, without the testing.”

Tarn swallows the food with a smile. “That’s wane! I really got Touch clarity. I can’t wait to tell Nimtarts.”

She smiles. “Nimtarts might not be so jealous, as you might think.”

“Why?” Tarn frowns.

She smiles. “He possesses Touch clarity, also.”

“That’s double wane!” Tarn stabs the food with a smile, eating and chews.

She smiles. “Using your Touch clarity, did you notice anything else unique about the Vilo compared to us?”

He swallows the food and turns with a wink to see Womack. “Their uniforms, I liked their uniforms. Can we…?”

“No.” Womack frowns at Tarn and shakes a skull, looking down with a grin at the plate, stabbing the food.

She frowns at the nose profile of Tarn. “Their uniforms, what does that have to do with us, Tarn dear?”

Tarn bounces up and down inside the chair with a grin. “I just liked their uniforms, especially…”

He swallows the food. “Tarn, I think your mom is referring to something that the Dihe and the Vilo commonly share, which are not the uniforms.” Womack looks down with a smile at the plate and stabs the food, eating.

“O, dack!” Tarn exhales.

Maries smiles at Tarn. “What is that the Dihe and the Vilo share, Tarn?”

Tarn turns and smiles at his mom. “Ejon, yeah, right, ejon. Well, I saw colored ejon. Really, dack, I’ve never seen colored ejon before in my short life span.”

“That moment must have been intriguing.” She stabs the food with a smile and eats, chewing.

Tarn bounces up and down inside the chair with excitement and a smile. “The ejon was colored coded to match their uniforms, except for one…”

She slaps the utensil over the plate with a frown at her son. “Can we stop with the uniforms, Tarn?”

“Sorry, Mom! I just like the uniforms.” Tarn turns and winks at his dad. Womack chews with a grin.

She lifts and holds the fork near a mouth. “You have made that a very clear talking point. I want to inject a different discussion point.” She eats and chews the food.

“Which discussion point, Mom?” Tarn looks down with a stern face at the plate and stabs the food, eating and chews.

She swallows with the food with a smile. “What kinds of colors did you see, Tarn?” She says then eats.

Tarn swallows with a smile and bounces up and down inside the chair, “Lavender, blue, light green, awesome purple.”

“And was there any other unique item among the Vilo and the Dihe?” She stabs the food and eats, chewing.

Tarn looks down with a frown at the plate of food and Maries. “Well, Parra’s ejon was white, not colored.”

“White is a color, son.” He stabs the food with a grin and eats, chewing.

Tarn nods. “I mean she possessed white ejon which is more similar to all the Dihe tribe members. Why is she of white ejon and not green, for example?”

She turns and grins at black hair roots of Womack. “That is a very good question, Tarn. Maybe, your dad would like to answer that question. Since, he has polluted our side of Intragalaxy with the Vilo dub.”

Tarn turns and frowns at his mom. “She is not a dub, doofur, or toar, Mom. You should use better adjectives in describing the princess of Vilo.”

She turns and gasps, narrowing her eyelashes at Tarn with suspicion.

Womack clears a throat with a smile to Maries. “Yes, I very much would like to answer that question, Maries. Thank you for forwarding it to my attention. White is a color shared by Dihe. With my limited, extreme limited knowledge of Vilo which is coupled with my keen observation of the princess at the mall that particular day, when we both discovered her, I would hypostasize that her color of white is just ‘mostest’ luck…”

“Mostest luck?” She giggles with a sour frown. “There is no such metaphysical occurrence as luck, Womack.”

“Then, let us try a lucky randomization upon the color wheel. I noted with Tarn that the rest of the warriors and the servants possessed an array of pastel to medium to rich tones of colors, sliding across the color wheel. Yes? Yes! Therefore, I purpose that the thicker or heavy color hue represents a higher degree of ejon talent. Additional, the color white might be the greatest representation of ejon talents.”

Tarn nods with a grin. “I understand your theory. That’s wane, Dad. White is the ‘bestest’ of the ‘bestest; ejon. Since, Parra is the only princess of Vilo. So, she got the only highest of the highest concentration of ejon among the Vilo warriors.”

Womack turns and grins at his son. “Congratulations, Tarn! You understand my theory and have solved the mystery of the mysterious white ejon.” He looks down with a smile and eats the doughie for dessert, chewing.

Tarn reaches and grabs one of the desserts, too. “Thanks, Dad!”

She frowns with annoyance at Womack. “The Vilo princess…”

Tarn exhales. “Her name is Parra, Mom.”

She exhales. “Yes, of course, Parra stays until the single short and sweet contact with the Vilo toars. Are you initiating the call in here, Womack?”

“Yes.” He chews with a grin.

Tarn turns and gasps at his father. “Can I be there, Dad?”

“No.” He chews with a grin.

“Why not?” Tarn frowns with disappointment.

Womack looks down with a stern face at the plate and stabs the food, “Dihe and Vilo business, son.”

She frowns. “Usually, under any type of Establishment business, the Dihe prefers a greater distance from all internal government matters and issues.”

Tarn exhales, “Dack.”

She frowns, “No cursing, Tarn.”

Tarn wiggles side to side with excitement and a smile. “Sorry, Mom! This is the biggest and bestest story of the century here on Mercian. We found the Vilo. They exist. We are going to going to do something.”

“Talk to them.” Womack stabs the food and eats, chewing.

She wipes off a mouth and stares at the dessert platter, too. “I disagree with first Governor Yamhill and you, Womack. We should send her back, using Tarn’s new expression.”

Tarn swallows the food with a frown. “What new expression, Mom?”

“It feels right to me that we avoid their human unkindness at all Dihe costs.” She reaches and grabs a doughie, sitting on the plate.

Tarn shakes his curls and holds up the doughie at a smile. “I don’t agree, Mom. You’re too closed minded,” he eats and chews the doughie.

She turns and gasps her son. “I beg your pardon, young Prime.”

“I mean…” Tarn shakes a skull. “You don’t know them. I have talked to Parra. She is well-mannered.”

“Snobby,” she frowns.

“Pretty,” Tarn grins.

“Façade,” she frowns.

“Intelligent,” Tarn grins.

“Deceptive,” she sneers.

Tarn mouth spits out food in angry. “Mom, this ain’t no debate.”

She sneers, “It most certainly is a debate or duel between death versus Dihe.”

Tarn mouth spits out more food in shock, “Mom!?”

Womack nods, frowning. “Tarn’s correct. This isn’t a debate. First Governor Yamhill has issued an order for the Dihe to contact the Vilo in terms…”

“War is the only thing the Vilo understand, clearly.” She chews and swallows the food.

“We are contacting the Vilo and discussing terms of peace like some good old fashioned friendly intragalactic neighbors.” Womack laughs.

Tarn chews and swallows the food with a smile. “I like that concept, Dad. I wanna be a part of the peacekeeping party, too.”

Womack smiles, “Shore, Tarn! And it will begin, maybe tomorrow, after breakfast. I work better on a full stomach.”

She sneers, “Usually, Dihe warriors didn’t eat when there’s trouble brewing for a fight, refusing food instead.”

“I don’t expect trouble or fighting, Maries. I like to eat and don’t refuse good food.” Womack frowns.

Tarn points with a smile at the platter of doughies. “Neither, do I? Pass me three more hot doughies, Mom.”

Womack stands from the chair and wipes a mouth with a smile. “Please, excuse me.” He back steps and spins around with a grin, moving ahead from the dining room into the living room.

“Shore, Dad!” Tarn stuffs the doughie into an open vessel and chews with the lips parted.

Maries drops open a mouth with a sour frown and stares at the back spine of her husband.

 

 

Hours 22 and minutes 02

Living room

Camtube station setting

 

 

The door closes.

Womack moves ahead with a grin to the camtube station. It is a wall that holds an ancient rusty gray square metal screen with a reflection tube. He stops and stands in front of the camtube, pressing a button and punches in a secret math code with a chuckle, watching the black screen.

The screen shows an array of red and black vertical lines and then a face of a pretty elderly woman, looking like a young Parra.

“Parra, my daughter is she healthy, fit?” The pretty elderly female frowns with worry.

He nods with a smile. “She is fine. I would never harm your daughter, Sarla.”

She smiles with a nod. “Thank you so much, Womack!” Sarla is gently scooted out of the screen display and then is replaced by a young striking Vilo warrior.

The teen Vilo warrior wears a head of cream colored long hair that bounces across his board shoulders, a tone of liver colored skin, and a set of exposed rippling muscles over the arms and the chest. He stands tall over six feet with a growl into the screen at Womack. “I offer fifty million riches for Princess Parra.”

Womack smirks, “Naw.”

He exhales. “Riches is not correct term.”

“Shives.”

He growls. “Yes, shives, your equivalent of riches, our riches are unlimited, coming from Queen Marcola in return for the unharmed Princess Parra.”

Womack frowns with worry. “Hmm, that witch still rules. Marcola, she has got to be over hundred years…”

“…or more.” He smirks.

Womack laughs. “Might I speak with Marcola?”

“I am her designated representative in this delicate royal matter.”

“Who are you, son?” Womack leans into the screen with a smirk.

The screen reduces down to show off his tallness. He smirks. “I am Cotana, Prince of the Vilo, within the Ultimedia Society.”

Womack grins with a nod. “Prince, you have attained your status by the tradition Vilo way?”

He smiles. “Yes, I did.”

“Ah, the ‘bestest’ of the ‘bestest.’”

He smiles. “Yes, I am.”

“The highest arrogance of the liver spots.”

He smiles. “Yes, I am.”

Womack smiles. “You take insult, very well, Cotana.”

He smiles. “Yes, I do.”

Womack nods with a smile. “The Vilo princess is unharmed and safe at the moment, but riches are not my thing.”

He sneers with a smirk. “Heard tell? The Dihe attacked and murdered an entire planet.”

Womack chuckles, “Heard tell? The Vilo did it, first.”

He drops and closes a mouth in shock. “No, we did not.”

“Ah, we are at a standstill then.”

He nods. “We are at a standoff then.”

“Word play, I enjoy the trivial and trite banter of unknown terms.”

He nods. “Yes, I enjoy, too.”

“So, the Vilo princess belongs back at her home world.” Womack grins. “Where might your home be located, Prince Cotana?”

He exhales. “Alas, we’re at a standstill, again.”

“We’re at a standoff, again.” Womack nods with a smile, “A neutral site for the exchange of your princess for some riches, then.”

“No.”

“A friendly site for the exchange.”

“No.”

“An unfriendly site for the exchange.”

He nods. “Yes, I will accept and I will contact you next, High Dihe Master Womack.” Cotana smiles as the camtube changes into an array of silver and gray horizontal lines.

Then, the camtube blinks into live, showing the faces of Zeelee and Koosbay. They were listening on the cammic during the conversation exchange.

Womack nods with a smile. “Excellent! I didn’t know if my little electronic trick would work. So, did you hear the terse conversation?”

“The threat, I shore did. When do we attack the Vilo warriors, Womack?” Koosbay grins.

Zeelee frowns. “Where is there an unfriendly site within Intragalaxy, Womack? And I didn’t hear you invite the Vilo there on Mercian. Do they know where your home world of Mercian is located, Womack?”

Womack nods with a smile. “Intragalaxy is a big wide space, trying hunt down one teen girl.”

Koosbay snorts, “Impossible, darling, the arrogant little toar was boasting his tiny child-like non-manhood…”

“Little?” Zeelee shakes her curls and her hands with a giggle and a grin. “Not to mine eyes, darling, the prince is more of six feet and seven inches and is covered in steel encased young and rippled muscles…”

“Zeelee?” He leans over and cuddles his wife with a frown over her golden colored hair roots.

She giggles with a smile to Womack. “I voicing what my eyeballs see, Koos.”

The high pitched sound beeps from the camtube and throughout the room.

Womack lifts and covers both eardrums with both hands, closing his eyelids. The faces of Zeelee and Koosbay disappear from the camtube. The sound ceases. Womack opens his eyelids, seeing the worried faces of first Governor Yamhill and first Senator Torbay cover the camtube.

The door opens.

Maries and Tarn run into the room and halt with worry, standing beside Womack.

Yamhill puffs out a pair of fat cheeks in and out inside the camtube screen with a panic. There is an invasion occurring on Harrogate, happening right at this moment. The Vilo spinners are surrounding the world. They have numerous spinners. They are starting to land, dumping numerous garrison troops upon the dirt for killing the residents of Harrogate. Do something, Womack!”

Womack laughs with a smirk. “Who is reporting this strange spinner sighting, Yamhill?”

First Senator Torbay of Koorskis exhales with a gasp of breath, sliding and covering the screen. “I did. I barely get off of Harrogate alive inside my spinner. I launched and then landed here on Mercian, as soon as possible. I saw the incoming invasion of ships, approaching within the pink skies of Harrogate. I was hunting with my son…”

Tarn points with a gasp at the screen with Torbay. “Hunting’s not allowed…”

“Not now, Tarn!” Womack sneers at the screen, “How many spinners? How many warriors? How many residents have escaped from Harrogate? Who else on Harrogate can give us some accurate battle information, Yamhill?”

Yamhill shakes a pair of fat cheekbones side to side with furry face sweat. “I proclaim planet Harrogate a total loss. We must think about our home world of Mercian. There are zillions of species-kind and human-kind here, now. Where do we hide? Where do we go? What do we do, Womack?”

The Touch tells her so. Maries closes her eyelashes with a nod with the Touch. Her fingernails glow in bright whiteness. She opens her eyelashes with a smile. “Harrogate is not lost, first Governor Yamhill and first Senator Torbay. It is only a vacation tourist spot for a fun time adventure. The Vilo are either befuddled or be funny. They are attacking a pleasure planet first, not knowing the western side of Intragalaxy.”

Womack turns and frowns at her nose profile. “First?”

Maries nods with a smile at the screen. “Harrogate is located off our southeastern hemisphere, where the first spinner ships of the Vilo warriors are concentrating, now. I saw them through my Touch.”

Tarn turns and gasps at the nose profile of his mother. “You did?” He close his eyeballs and squeezes his eyelids, concentrating on the planet Harrogate, opening his eyelids with a whisper for his eardrums only, “I don’t see nothing with my Touch.”

Maries nods with a smile at the screen. “The Establishment must follow my instructions. We must evacuate all the species-kind and the human-kind off from Mercian onto the exo-planetoid Koorskis for our safety. No civilized society will ruin a good mug of cold golden beer.” She reaches out and slaps Tarn on the collar bone with a laugh. Tarn gasps with a chuckle her joke. She frowns on the screen. “Yamhill, alert all the other species-kind and human-kind and send them, not with packing bags from here on Mercian. Everyone, go and get to Koorskis. The Dihe will engage the Vilo on planet Harrogate, stopping their advancement onto our home world of Mercian. Go, now! Get off the camtube, now! And congratulations on your new little baby Dihe female, Yamhill.”

Yamhill huffs with worry. “Thank you, High Dihe Mistress Maries!”

The camtube goes black colored and shows a series of red and black vertical lines. Then, the colored lines are replaced with the frowning faces of Zeelee and Koosbay.

Maries nods to Zeelee and Koosbay. “You will be receiving a batch of refugees within a few minutes. The spinners are launching as we speak. The Vilo spinners are attacking Harrogate…”

Koosbay laughs then breathes and then laughs, again. “Really?”

Maries frowns with fury. “Really, Koos! We are sending out all our precious Dihe children and teenlings to you on exo-planetoid Koorskis. So, please set up the emergency Dihe outpost for all the children. Then, all the Dihe warriors are loading up into our spinners and sailing to Harrogate. We will engage them there on the soil…”

“What for, Maries? For what, Maries?” Koosbay leans over and cuddles his wife with a smile. “If they wanna attack and then conquer Harrogate, then let them. The planet doesn’t hold any business interests to the Dihe or the Establishment. I don’t think we should start a civil war over a flock of soft warm swanette nests.”

Womack smiles at Koosbay. “I agree with Koos.”

She exhales with a puff of annoyance and presses down the vest with a set of manicured white glowing fingernails. “I do not agree. I am in control here. The Dihe children and teenlings, including my son Tarn, are coming to Koorskis for both protection and safety. You and Zeelee have mixed emotions as both parents and warriors. So, you both stay there and greet the spinner ships of children, protecting and defending all the Dihe children. You are responsible for my son, Koosbay. Do you hear me, Koosbay and Zeelee?”

Koosbay salutes with a hand and bows with a chin, looking up with a smile and a laugh to see Maries. “Yes ma’am to you, High Dihe Mistress Maries. Tarn, get your gear and come on over to my planet. We got freshly brewed golden beer and some newly roasted white nuts. We eat and watch over the electronic games and the smelly young’uns,” laughing.

Tarn nods with a grin in silence, since his mom is standing right next to his shoulder.

Maries reaches out and slaps a hand with fury on the camtube. The screen explodes into pieces of glass and metal. She tosses up a Touch shield around her body with a sneer from the debris.

Tarn back steps with a worried brow and covers a face with a laugh. “Dack, Mom, you got some evil going wickedly bad ejon there.” He halts and stands, dropping down both hands with a smile and a nod at her back spine. “Hey, since this is an emergency and since this is not a family outing, can I pilot the spinner with all the Dihe kids and teenlings to Koorskis? I’m a good pilot, right, Dad?” He turns and nods to Womack.

Womack spins around with a grin and moves ahead to the open archway with a nod, “Right, Tarn! Excellent idea, Tarn! Let’s go now, Tarn! I will set you up inside the spinner for your final destination to Koorskis, ensuring the ship doesn’t crash land and burn over the top of the beer factories,” chuckling.

Tarn spins around with a smile and bounces up and down, following behind the back spine of Womack with a grin and a chuckle of nervousness. “I know how, Dad. You don’t need to set up anything. I know the one space direction toward the golden planet, sailing toward the northeast. We did that yesterday or the other day. I did that also before yesterday or the other day. Hey, Dad, are you listening to me?”

Maries exhales with a puff of frustration and swings around, tossing both arms in the air with a sour frown and a matching tone. “Where are you going, Womack? We have thousands of details to prepare for our engagement with the Vilo in a few minutes. Tarn dear, you have my permission to fly the spinner, as long as, you go the space speed limit and then go straight to exo-planetoid Koorskis and land at the Dihe Outpost, only. You cannot travel to another planet.”

Womack exits the room with a stern face. “I’ll be back, soonest, Maries.”

 

 

Hours 22 and minutes 22

City street setting

Warm temperatures and bright sunshine

 

 

Tarn follows the back spine of Womack through the front door of the hof (house) and watches him engage in Touch running. Womack disappears from eyesight. Tarn gasps with a laugh and exhales with a grin, bending both kneecaps and performs a Touch leap into a vertical body up into the air. He performs a Touch fly and a wavering hand slap with his best bud Nimtarts in the air, too.

Then, Nimtarts and Tarn execute a Touch down onto the street sidewalk with a smile and a laugh.

Nimtarts had left his personal hof and raced down the sidewalk, coming to see Tarn, after hearing the newsflash of war.

Nimtarts and Tarn move ahead down the sidewalk toward the spinner station with a set of smiles and laughs. Nimtarts nods with a smile of excitement. “I heard the news, a Dihe war with the Vilo on the soft soil of Harrogate. Why do they want a dub place like Harrogate? There’s nothing there but woods, lakes, and non-hunting activities.”

Tarn looks up with a stern face to see the blue sky, shading both eyelids from the dull yellow sunlight, shrugging a shoulder and looks down to see the spinner station in the far distance with a smile. “Maybe, they wanna hunt and then wear the swanette white feathers,” laughing.

He laughs, “Maybe, they do? What about Parra?”

Tarn exhales. “I don’t know. She is safe here inside the prison with Dihe Pelta on Mercian, thou. My mom has ordered all the Dihe kids and teenlings to Koorskis for some fun and mugs of beer,” laughing.

He nods with a smile. “Yeah, my parents are assisting in dressing the little toars for the space trip, too. I’m ready to leave, now. Let’s get off planet first, before the stinky doofurs invade our spinner. Can I drive?”

Tarn smiles, “And Koos told me that he’s got fresh beer and roasted nuts for watching the war on the long sofa inside the entertainment room. That’s the life during battle, huh?” He reaches over and slaps Nimtarts on the collar bone with a nod and a grin, “Naw, I got the personal permission from High Dihe Mistress Maries to sail one of the spinners, as long as, I don’t wreck it, the first time. Let’s go and rev up the spinner for sailing. My dad went ahead, Touch running toward the spinner station.” Tarn performs a Touch dash toward the spinner station, leading and leaving nothing but dust bannies of orange color.

Nimtarts tosses both arms with a smile. “You cheated me, toar. But, I’m faster, too.” He performs a Touch-runs following behind Tarn with a laugh.

 

 

Hours 22 and minutes 25

Spinner station setting

 

 

Tarn halts first and stands inside the dry dust, wiping the dirt from a sweaty face, scanning the spinners, dropping open a mouth. “Huh, it’s gone.”

Nimtarts halts beside Tarn from the Touch running, wiping the dirt from a sweaty face too and points with a smile at the row of spinners. “Naw, I see all the sleeping ugly, sorta rust covered spinners underneath the hanger rooftop. Which one is ours for the taking?”

He slowly moves down the dusty pathway, scanning each rusty and scorned ship with a smile of excitement. “I guess just pick one. I don’t see a rotating circular panel being activated. I thought my dad ran this way. He said that he would setup the spinner for our final destination to Koorskis.” He stops and scans the landscape. “I don’t see my dad,” snapping the fingers. “Yeah, he had to move the great big thing, before someone hits it or steals it,” chuckling.

Nimtarts moves ahead to the first spinner underneath the rooftop with a smile. “Womack’s busy, planning a war, bud. Let’s go, Tarn! Are you sailing or what? I can do it.” He reaches over and touches the heated metal with an index finger as the metal glows in that spot with of ejon whiteness.

“Hey, toar,” Tarn frowns and points to Nimtarts. “Don’t contaminate my vessel, bud. Remove your fingers and hands, now. Or you have to sail it with your ejon, not mine toward Koos and the awaiting beer,” he jogs down to the closed and rusty single entrance door and stops, standing and whips out my bato, touching the metal, jerking up the bato with a smile. “I am captain of this here vessel, mate.” His white ejon covers the hatchway door and then surrounds the exterior of the spinner.

The door opens then stops. Then, the door slowly lifts then coughs. Then, it roughly slides upward into the hidden slot.

Tarn reaches over with a frown and touches the metal with the tip of bato again. The ship flares in whiteness. The entrance door slides upward and locks into place, extending the walking ramp with a soft thud into the dry dirt.

Nimtarts reached out with a smile and tenderly pats the exterior metal, making the hand print burn in ejon whiteness, also. “I thought I picked a good ship, captain. I guess not, sir. I hope you can sail this rust bucket of more rusty nuts and bolts toward Koorskis and the beer. Do you accept your mission, captain?” He turns and dashes up the ramp, entering into the single cabin with a smile of excitement of war and beer.

Tarn turns and runs behind the back spine of Nimtarts with a smile and a laugh. “Don’t insult the spinner, bud. We need to arrive alive on Koorskis,” he stops and stands with a smile in front of the circular pilot console with excitement. “I am captain, today,” he sits down into the pilot chair with a nod and reaches over, slamming the button, activating the ions and stares into the viewer window. The screen shows a handsome teenling reflection inside the clear glass, waiting on the ions to charge and provide power up to the mechanics.

“I didn’t see any golden beer and white peanuts here on board our spinner, Tarn.” Elephant-like Gamnon rattles the walking ramp and ship floor with a smile and a laugh, entering into the single on a pair of booted feet and a baritone voice, coming through the open hatchway.

Nimtarts swings around with a smile and lifts an arm in the air. Gamnon slaps the hand and Nimtarts down to the floor with a laugh. Nimtarts slowly stands upright with a moan and rubs the throbbing hand with a sour frown, “Not so hard, Gamnon! We, human-kind are really fragile little things, bud,” chuckling with a smile.

Gamnon advances forward and selects a bolted chair against the curved wall with a smile, turning and sitting down with a nod in silence.

Cat-like Foxi dashes up the ramp with a smile and runs into the back spine and the fanny of Tarn with a giggles, wrapping both furry arms and paws around his fit wrist, landing a face over his collar bone. “I’m here, too, darling.”

Tarn reaches up and rubs her paw with a smile, watching the cylinder tip of ions dance inside. “I wouldn’t leave the planet without my best blossom,” he spins around with a grin and hugs her body, leaning over and kisses her lips, pulling back with a wink and a smile, “Hey, my beautiful Foxi.” He extends a hand with Touch and grabs one of the rolling chairs for her….yeah. The chair rolls over the floor and scoots beside the pilot chair like magic.

Tarn and Foxi sit down and turn, kissing then breathing and then kissing, again.

Cat-like Voxi moves up the ramp with a smile and stops inside the archway, scanning the cabin with a giggle. “Where do I sit, sweetie?”

Nimtarts spins around with a smiles and advances to the archway, cuddling his best blossom, too. “Where does your luggage seat?” He reaches down and grabs the two separate pieces of luggage from her paws and spins around with a sour frown, scooting towards a row of empty chairs, curving the rusty and sorta bend metal. “You didn’t need to brought with you a month’s change of wardrobe, blossom. The war will end in a few minutes or less with High Dihe Mistress Maries leading the battle.” He stops and stands, placing the two pieces of luggage in the seat alone, reaching down and whips out the bato, wrapping a ray of ejon whiteness wave around the luggage, typing it down into the bolted chair for safety during the space flight. Then, he scoots into the next empty chair and turns, sitting with a smile and slaps a lap with both hands and a chuckle. Voxi advances forward with a giggle and sits, sliding between his legs with a grin. He leans over and kisses her face with a soft teenling moan. She softly purrs into his eardrum with happiness.

Bird-like Yachats flies in the air through the hatchway without using a pair of natural wings and lands inside the closest rolling chair near the door. She doesn’t really like sailing inside a spinner. The motion makes both two ear holes unbalanced. She locks the chair with the Touch.

Bee-like Taradash flies in the air behind the back spine of Yachats, sitting inside the same rolling chair along the wall with a giggle and turns with a smile to see Yachats. “The motion makes me wanna vomit up my trawler soap.”

Trawler means worms.

Yachats turns and giggles to Taradash. “Yeah, the soup was too good to re-taste, again.” They cuddle together inside the same chair with a laugh and a grin, waiting to depart from planet Mercian.

Octopus-like Quimpher slowly strolls through the hatchway in a pair of booted feet and flings the other six wet appendages into the air. The tiny water droplets fly up and into the air and then evaporate from the hot, dry day. Or some of the thicker water droplets fall and land down upon the unfortunate species, walking below all the wavering limbs.

Rat-like Moro follows behind the butthole Quimpher with a sour frown and a shout, shaking a furry head and a pair of shoulders. “Hey there, watch your water spray, toar! I’m getting wet.” He scurries toward a rolling chair on the opposite side of the kissing love birds Nimtarts and Voxi.

Wolf-like Cherwell dashes up the ramp with a growl and stops with a smile, standing underneath an array of falling wet raindrops from her friend Quimpher. She extends both furry arms into the air and tosses back a furry skull with a giggle. “I like this rain shower. It’s so hot and dry, today. My ejon is sizzling into sunny side up slider eggs. Do you feel the crispness of the air and tartness smell of the burning ejon?” She absorbs all the fallen water droplets, coming down from the ceiling inside the spinner with a smile and scoots ahead across the floor, sitting one chair from Quimpher.

Quimpher sits inside three rolling chairs and holds all six other limbs out, spraying more water droplets into the air.

Cherwell slumps down into the chair and feels the cold, crisp water moist with a smile and a giggle.

Zebra-like twins, Ezatala and Ceffee enter one at a time, carrying an individual piece of personal luggage, too. They move inside and stand at the archway together with a nod, selecting a pair of two chairs around the wall, getting away from Nimtarts, Voxi, Cherwell, and Quimpher. They turn and sit beside each other with a giggle. Each piece of luggage is parked inside an individual chair on the other side of the two girls. They whip out a bato and tie a white ejon bow shaped ribbon around the luggage, keeping it from flying around the spinner for personal safety, too.

Gamnon whips out the bato and releases an ejon ray, flying a set of white sparks from the bato and hits the metal chairs of both the zebra-like twins. The two rolling chairs slide and part far away from each other as the girls gasps with fury at Gamnon. He twirls and spins the rolling chair forward and around, placing it between them with a smile, reaching over and slaps one on the arm, flinging both arms into the air. He lands an arm behind each twin with a smile and a chuckle. “We are ready to fly away from Mercian for beer and peanuts, watching the Dihe beat up the evil Vilo in living color on the cammie tube. Go, pilot Tarn!”

Cherwell frowns at the back spine of Tarn, extending both arms up toward the falling water droplets from Quimpher, feeling the wet cold water droplets, “Toar!”

Tarn separates from the lips of Foxi with a soft moan and licks off her pine woodsy favor from his wet lips with a smile, “Ugh, what?”

Cherwell points with a smile at the back spine of Tarn. “See, he knows his true name. Toar, fly us off the planet now, before we get catch up in the war!”

Tarn leans over and kisses her cheekbone, slapping a hand over the glass plate and turns, scooting the other hand over the plate. The spinner lifts up and flies forward, clearing the metal rooftop with swift speed.

The teenlings scream with shock and latch down each rolling chair with the Touch.

Then, he leans over and kisses the nose of Foxi, slipping a hand into the middle, slapping the glass plate. The spinner shoots straight up into the air, avoiding both the tree tops and the house roofs. Don’t worry! He can kiss and probe the sky with the Touch all at the same time.

The teenlings scream again and hold onto the arm rests with the Touch.

Foxi pulls back with a wink and a giggle, wrapping both arms around his neck with a whisper. “You’re so talented, Tarn.”

He smiles with a goofy grin, “Yeah.” Then, he leans over and kisses her lips, slapping a right hand over the center of the glass.

The spinner blasts off the planet Mercian, bouncing from the atmosphere and lands inside the river of time within outer space. It wobbles side to side as the charged ions wildly dance across the river and then straightens out the flow of the ship.

Tarn uses the Touch and one hand, pressing down onto the glass plate, flying in a northeastern space direction toward exo-planetoid Koorskis.

The teenlings hug the chairs and scream again from the swift speed of pilot Tarn.

Chapter Nineteen

Gravesite

 

 

Notian Karst

Hours 24 and minutes 11

Spinner of Princess Parra setting

Late afternoon

Warm temperatures with dull sunshine

 

 

Inside the spinner of Princess Parra, Womack is the pilot and lifts both hands from the glass plate

The spinner slowly drops down from the cloud cover. He presses both hands down to the glass plate. The spinner halts. He holds the running Vilo luxury spinner in the air between the two hill tops, facing the red mountain. He stares with a stern face at the mountain through the viewer screen window, “Parra.”

She sits inside a rolling chair next to Womack and stares with a stern face at the mountain through the viewer screen window, exhaling with the feelings of death in there.

Womack turns and frowns at the nose profile of Parra, reaching over and pats her hand on top of the console with a stern face. “There is something here that I need to show you, first. Then, we will be heading back to your home world of Ultimedia. I promise. But first, this is very important. Do you mind, Parra?”

She frowns at the screen. “No, not at all, if it is really important to you, High Dihe…”

“Call me…” He smiles. “Call me, Womack. Okay?”

She turns and nods. “Okay, Womack.”

He smiles. “I know your visit here has been both strange and difficult. And I am sorry for any mistreatment.”

She smiles. “I have not experienced any type of mistreatment, Womack. You have been a lovely host, regarding my visit. And I’m a Toucher. I can take care of myself, too.”

He nods. “Good to hear!” Womack turns and faces the screen with a stern face. “It looks like an enclosed mountain that reaches the stratosphere of outer space which is surrounded in a pool of greenish water, swimming with a set of roaming sliders. And there is a cavern mouth which has sunk down into the landscape as the two rivers of water flow inside, creating more water problems. However, we both possess the Touch. It is springtime on Mercian. The winter frozen snow caps have melted, dropping streams of fresh clean drinking water over the valley.

“The karst is a natural forming sinkhole during both the summer and winter months. A karst is a deep vertical hole about three hundred feet wide and two hundred feet deep that is surrounded by natural hard thick deposits of hardened volcanic ash. The internal walls of the mountain are composed of un-welded pretty brightly white colored ash tuffs. Cool, not heated. And I don’t wanna tell you anymore about the cavern, instead I would like for you to see inside the cavern.”

She exhales with worry and stares at the screen. “I was afraid of those exact words.”

He stands from the chair and turns with a smile to see her hair roots. “Stick and stones will break my bones, but words and images will never hurt me. Are you ready, Parra?”

She stands from the chair and turns with a nod to see him. “Do we need special equipment or something else from my spinner cabinets? The ship is very well equipped for such emergencies.”

He side steps from the console and spins around with a stern face, moving ahead to the closed door. He reaches over and grabs the bato, aiming and fires at the closed door. The sparks from the white ejon slams into the door metal. The hatchway glows in whiteness and then smoothly slides upward into the slot. He moves ahead of Parra with a stern face, “Naw, only our Touch. Follow me, Parra!”

She follows behind the back spine of Womack with a sigh and stern face. “Okay, Womack!”

 

 

Spinner ramp setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

 

 

Womack stops and stands at the bottom of the walking ramp which is attached to the spinner. The spinner is parked and running, holding like magic in the air. The lip of ramp looks like a long red colored tongue, coming out from a mouth.

He bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch jump into the air and a Touch fly with a horizontal body away from the spinner, spreading both arms over the landscape and as, his fingernails glow in bright ejon whiteness. He stares at the overflowing twin water streams, covering most of the grass, bushes, plants and flowers. The twin streams dump down into the mouth of the cavern, reviving the musky greenish pool water around the mountain. He continues to Touch fly toward the darkness of the entrance mouth of the curved cavern, leading Parra and then slowly executes a Touch descend down toward the floor and a Touch upright in the air. Then, he jerks both kneecaps into a chest and prepares for a landing and slowly floats down onto the hard rock with scattered bits of black dust. He frowns and squats down onto the reddish colored rock, touching the black dust, feeling the softness.

Parra copycats his flying pattern and as, her fingernails burn in bright ejon whiteness as a talented Toucher, too. She jerks both knees into the torn and stained gown and slowly Touch land on top of the red rock, standing upright with a pair of hands on a wrist, showing off a set of bright white fingernails. Then, she turns and frowns down at the black dust and the red rock, closing her eyelashes, roaming the quiet cave with the Touch. “The cavern floor consists of pyroclastic debris of an inactive 29,000 year old ancient volcano. The weak and crumbly volcanic deposits produce a cohesion which allows them to stand up and built into a vertical face cliff which is used for a shelter hole and a series of long subterranean tunnels for transportation between any existing and surviving species-kind colony. Heat rises below the lava fields, coming from underneath the floor and then percolates and then cools the re-cycling the red ash into a white cohesion.”

Womack turns and scans the interior of the cavern with a stern face. “The interior walls have been roughly cut with tiers of semi-rounded levels. There are six levels about one hundred fifty feet apart, towering toward the top of the mountain cliff.”

She opens her eyelashes with a gasp and stares at the cliff. “I feel and see the dead within my Touch. There are hundreds upon hundreds of dead bodies of Noti.” She squats down and gently touches one of the piles of black ash and as, her white ejon fingernail glow inside the black ashes.

He continues to scan the mountain with a stern face. “The Noti are a complete mystery. No human-kind or species-kind has ever understood their original of biology or purpose of travel to this planet. They have existed for over 29,000 years peacefully on planet Mercian. This was their old homestead. The human-kind were bi-pedal, short height, a rounded belly, lacking hair on the skull, the face, the chest, the arms, the legs, and the feet. They dressed in a set of worn brightly patched simple long ankle tunic-like fabrics which were made and donated by the Dihe tribes, throughout Intragalaxy.

“Their eye sockets emitted a set of bright lights of yellow ejon, instead of two eyeballs and colored pupils along with a set of smooth ear holes on the both side of a hairless skull. They possessed a pair of two nose holes that were flat against the face for breathing and a mouth hole for eating. Noti were all deaf, dumb, and blind and possessed ejon, strangely enough.

“The Establishment scientists believed that the ejon trait performed a right angle turn with the Noti human-kind. Ejon is a completed circle of three hundred and sixty degrees, surrounding any biological, chemical, or metallic matter. A shape surrounded by only one hundred and eighty degrees does not possess ejon. Therefore, ninety degrees of ejon represents the relationship between the two intersecting lines of ejon and humanoid, creating beings, without awesome Touch talents, who had survived day-by-day on tiny amounts of ejon energy. The ejon made the Noti both harmless to others and powerless to supreme entities. That completes my lecture, Parra.”

She turns with a stern face and scans the mountain, the cliff tiers, the red rock, and the black dust of the dead Noti. “I know your question, but I do not know the answer, either, Womack. However, this doesn’t make any sense to me, either.”

Womack bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch leap up and over all the black dust piles, executing a Touch down on the top of the third tier with a stern face. She bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch jumps and a Touch down beside him with a stern face.

He points down to black dust, glowing in white fingernails of ejon. “One of our Dihe beings possesses Touch pathos, allowing a person to feel the past suffering of any human-kind, species-kind, beast-kind, or creature-kind within Intragalaxy.”

She squats down and slides a white ejon fingernail down into the black dust, closing her eyelashes with a stern face. “I possess Touch pathos, also. The Noti were murdered by a clan of flesh and bone eating intragalactic Cannibees.” She removes the finger with a sour frown and stands upright with a confused brow, staring down at the pile of dust. “The Touch tells me so. But, I am having lots of ponderings why.”

He nods with a stern face. “I’m experiencing the same ponderings why, too. As a matter of fact, someone suggested it might be a play or a ploy from the Vilo clan, hiding out here on Mercian. The cliffs are marked with imprints of five naked toes.”

She wipes off the dust from both hands and the clothes with a frown, shaking her curls. “Vilo, the violators of power and greed! Yes, I have heard the wild musings, too. However, I might could believe this a wicked play or an evil ploy, coming directly from the Marcola, if it would gain for her and harm someone else.”

He points up with a stern face to the ceiling of the mountain. “I agree with you, regarding Marcola. I have known her too, too long, as well. We jump and soar up to the next level together,” he bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch leap with a shout, “Jump!”

Parra follows his movement with a stern face and sails up to the top lever of cliff face.

 

 

Ceiling tier setting

 

 

Womack falls down from the air and performs a Touch land first in a squat, standing upright and staring down at the creepy design.

She falls down from the air and performs a Touch lands second, squatting beside him and standing upright with a confused brow at the creepy design, too. “What is this in the middle of the red rock?” She swings around with a stern face and leans over the naked air of the cliff ledge. “The rest of the mountain is covered in red color, too, holding piles of black dust also. But, why place the dust so high into the ceiling?” She spins around with a confused brow to see the creepy floor design.

He jabs a finger with a nod and a stern face down at the creepy design on the floor. “We solved the mystery of the burnt black Noti bodies. The Cannibees didn’t cook the dead, after killing the raw meat. The Cannibees were a vile species within Intragalaxy, an eating, talking, and thinking species-kind like a starved animal. The Dihe warriors easier killed the tall, skinny, and half-naked semi-beasts, who possessed no sharp weapons into one big gory red bloody slaughter. The Dihe stopped fighting, after the last Cannibees hit the bloody stained red rock. We jumped up here and then watched the white colored cavern rock turn blood red. Then, the dull white Noti human-kind skulls and bones turned bright pink, then dark red, and finally midnight black. The skulls and arm bones cooled quickly and then morphed into this mess of organized black dust. The old volcano hiccupped and then burned the rock ledge, boiling and melting the exposed and remaining Noti human exposed bones, tissue, organs, and blood into those sets of black ashes.

“This is the Noti graveyard. I didn’t believe it at first. It appeared, such-like, a creative design or a piece of art work or a hidden message or something of great importance. I suspect it was left by the Noti people, before they were all eaten by the Cannibees. I feel that you should see it…”

She slowly paces side to side and stares the floor design with a stern face. “This platform is about five hundred feet in length by equal height like it represents…”

“The entire creepy gravesite design was made from human-kind bones too, before they were roasted into crispy blackness of dust.”

She stops in the middle of the floor, pointing down with a nod to the floor. “This is a creepy design. Yes, it is a really mysterious and creepy design of our Intragalaxy.”

Womack shakes a skull at the floor design. “Naw, Parra! This is clearly an inventive Noti graveyard which will last for centuries inside this karst until disturbed by someone like us. We should go and leave the dead alone. This was a silly idea bringing you here inside a graveyard. I thought that I should show you this before…”

“No!” Parra squats down and shakes her curls with a worried brow. “This is a map of Intragalaxy. The Noti have designed using their dead body parts, a map of Intragalaxy. But why? What is the purpose in here inside a mountain peak? What does the presentation tell us, now and here? I don’t understand. But, I will figure it out.”

He squats with a stern face and stares at the black piles of ashes. “Naw, Parra! You didn’t see the exposed bones, before they became charcoal black burned. There were adult, baby, and maybe teenling human-kind skulls of three types. The baby ones were really small. The teenling ones were middle sized. And the adult were the largest of the skulls. And there were human-kind naked arm bones in the middle of the design, running back and forth. It is not representative of the entire human body, only the arm portion. For example, in the extreme side of the gravesite, there was a large adult with six tiny baby skulls which represented a family unit. The entire family unit probably was killed during a snow storm in wintertime or contacted a deadly virus during the springtime. That usually happens to a regular family unit of human-kind inside the city of Mercian. However, the entire floor on the ceiling is covered with skull families.”

Parra studies the floor design. “Close your eyes, Womack!”

“Parra?” He frowns.

She stares down with a worried brow at the floor design. “No. You brought me here for a purpose. The Touch tells me so, too. Please close your eyes.” She turns and watches him close his eyes with a nod and swings a face to see the creepy floor design. “Good, excellent, okay, this is really weird. But, picture my words into your mind. Intragalaxy goes from west to east. The sun is an oversized circle, hanging in the east. In-between, there are numerous planets and exo-planetoids which are the largest structures inside the Intragalaxy as each planet is compared to the sun. Around some of the planets are moons and around lots of the exo-planetoids are both medium dwarf stars and smaller moons which are much smaller than the massive sun and the larger planets. Now, you saw numerous sets or piles of exposed human skulls which you identified as adult, teen, and baby skulls. Now, I want you to replace your image of the adult, teen, and baby skulls with my version of larger planets and small moons or large exo-planetoids and many smaller moons and medium sized dwarf stars. Now, I wanna you to take a big breathe and hold it. Then, I want you to open your eyes.”

He holds a breath and opens the eyelids, gagging and coughing and gags, again. “I see Intragalaxy.”

She nods with a worried brow. “I see Intragalaxy, too. Due to the fact, you and I have traveled extensively throughout Intragalaxy which is more than the other human-kind and species-kind. Look on the extreme western end of the map of Intragalaxy. Look at the large black pile of burned skulls. It is surrounded by a set of five small piles of baby skulls. This is Fw’tang, the name of a viable exo-planetoid with a set of small four moons and a small dwarf star. The number of baby skulls exactly matches and then encircles around a big adult skill. And the small four moons do not orbit around the planet but remain in a stationary position, looking like this creepy skull map that has been prepared and designed by the Noti.

“The set of skulls that you described as a family unit of an adult and her six children is, well, sorta correct. On the extreme western edge of Intragalaxy, there is a singular very large living star called Currentia within a cluster of six dead exo-planetoids. Currentia does not circle within outer space as it is a stationary body, also. I clearly follow the series of black piles, showing a large skull, representing my home world Ultimedia and her two smaller dwarf stars.

“To the southeast space direction of Ultimedia, I see the large exo-planetoid of Chamme which is boxed in by the two baby skulls which are the two green dwarf stars. And look at the center of the Noti floor map. There is a large adult skull of black in the middle of the floor design with one small skull. That is the single golden colored large exo-planetoid of Koorskis and its solo smaller white dwarf star, hanging by itself inside the middle of the Intragalaxy.

“Keeping looking toward the eastern dust of Intragalaxy, I see the single planet of Harrogate, kinda below planet Mercian. Then, I see Mercian, a single pile of black skull particles. Then, I see a very large pile of black skulls, the sun. This is a map of Intragalaxy. And the line of human bones, you saw and tattled about running back and forth across the floor…”

“It’s the river of time.” He stands upright with a frown and a nod. “I can’t believe that I missed this entire map of my own galaxy. The Noti were very clever and did possess ejon without the Touch.”

She stands upright with a worried brow and a nod. “They were highly attuned into the Touch, touching it or not. And they probably traveled too before with their afflictions. The planets do not move until one becomes caught inside a black hole or something else destructive which happens over time like about million years.”

He nods with a stern face at the floor. “What is this floor map telling us, Parra? I fear that there is a subtle message written somewhere here on the floor stone. Only if, we had arrived in time to save one or two of the Noti, before the Cannibees ate them.”

She frowns down at the floor. “I don’t know. We should show this floor map to someone else like an elder of ejon or another master or mistress of Touch.”

He exhales. “I am ‘it.’ I do know of some other elderly Touches which I might could possibility contact. I don’t know if they can jump upon a mountain top at an advanced chronological age. But, I can ask and get a positive ‘no.’ Anyways, right now, we have a war to stop.”

She turns and smiles at the nose profile of Womack. “You are not going to engage the Vilo at Harrogate.”

He turns and gasps to her. “How do you know that?”

She smiles. “The Touch tells me so.”

He reaches out and grabs her hand and turns, dragging her from the design and stand on the edge of the cliff. “We are both correct. And there will be no battle killing from us or the eagerly dack Dihe clan. We will use your faster spinner, zooming across Intragalaxy in record time. I’m returning you back to your home world Ultimedia, hoping to negotiate with your husband Prince Cotana, before he starts a real war.”

She stared down at the ground floor with a confused brow. “No. He is to become my future husband, much later. And I don’t understand why Cotana would threaten you or attack Harrogate. His behavior, actions are very peaceful and mellow all the time.” She swings around with a gasp and stares down at the floor design. “My brain cells just clicked with something strange, recalling the floor map of Intragalaxy. I find this very odd. Look toward the extreme edge of the floor on the eastern edge of Intragalaxy. At the end of the galaxy, if you wish to use that term, it is all covered in solid black dust. I don’t see any representation of skulls, large, medium, or small. I know for a fact. There is a single dusty moon called Lavan which is housed with a colony of alive and breathing beings. The original planet was destroyed by an array of flying meteorites eons again, before my birth. I was required to study the celestial bodies and stars of Intragalaxy, coming from my parents. However, on the Noti map of Intragalaxy, the single moon of Lavan is gone like it never existed or it has been blown away for some reason. So odd, I don’t understand the creepy floor design.”

He swings around with a frown and stares down at the floor design, snapping the fingers. “I can explain, Parra. Look at the other extreme edge in my direction, the opposite side of the floor design. Or we can label it, the western side of the Intragalaxy, where we are now. I see the large lump of black skull burned dust, representing the sun. I see another large pile of black dust, representing a single adult skull the planet Mercian, except I do not see our twin moons on the Noti map. Because, there really are twin moons which you can see them at sunset and sunrise. I wished that I could show you, Parra, maybe another time, thou.

“Anyways, I see a break in the rough circle right behind planet Mercian and then a bigger lost section of roundness which is right behind the sun. See how along the circular outer edges of the Noti map, it is both rough and bumpy like the real Intragalaxy? The collection of scattered bits of black burned skull particles along the edges of Intragalaxy represents moving, shifting and rotating space dust. Dust is gathered and collected from every particle within Intragalaxy and outside of Intragalaxy.

“I mean dust comes from our own body particles, such like, my and your skin, cells, hair, minerals, and enzymes. All are remnants of dead bodies, coming from the polvodera process, begins and then ends in a set of finely, diminutively, powdery, whitely brightly particles, glowing like the color of your ejon nails. Then, all the dead body particles evaporate into the atmosphere and then into nothingness. Even, the dust of a planet rises from various sources that is lifted up by the wind, spitted out by a shooting volcano, or carried off by a set of air pollutions, consisting of plant pollen, species-kind, beast-kind hair and skin, textile fibers, paper fibers, minerals from soil, and burning meteors. And then, there is Intragalaxy space dust in various forms of ambient radiation heated dust particles, including both thermal dust emission and spinning dust emissions, not to mention all the chemical element components. So, the scattered black pile of burned skull fragments represents dust which is widely present, coming from us, the planets, and Intragalaxy.”

“O,” She nods with a smile of satisfaction. “So, the broken part of the bumpy circle represents the space dust that exits out from Intragalaxy. Is that correct, Womack?”

He leans over with a smile and wraps an arm around Parra, pointing down at the floor map. “Yes, space dust travels far, far away from us, probably flowing and going into a different galaxy. It doesn’t have to breathe air or drink water like me and you, Parra. The Noti were wise beyond their flaws. I do believe that they have accurately portrayed Intragalaxy from the beginning of time and until the end of my time.” He chuckles. “Since, Dihe don’t live forever. Do the Vilo?”

She smiles with a giggle, “No, we are a mortal race as well. Now, I see the complete picture of the Noti map as Intragalaxy, too. And I guess I do understand a little more.”

He leans into her face with a smile, “But since, I have been invited to visit the western side of the galaxy. Then, I might just stop by and visit with the moon people of Lavan, checking out their fairy tale of Intragalaxy, too.”

She smiles. “That’s an excellent idea, Womack. I would like to join your space trip expedition. The moon people of Lavan are the closest planetoid toward the edge of Intragalaxy. It would be fun, traveling to the far out reaches of black and cold outer space. I wonder if there is a solid wall of matter at the end of the circle of the galaxy.”

He swings around with a smile and cuddles Parra into a chest, jumping into the air from the mountain peak with a grin, “Only space dust!”

She covers a mouth from screaming and then laughs.

They fly down the cliff side and then slowly descend.

Womack uses the Touch and performs a Touch land on the ground level red rock.

She exhales with a puff of excitement, “A nice touch!”

He does not release her and turns with a smile into her nose profile. “Do you wanna a bird ride back to the spinner?”

She parts and scoots away from his hug with a giggle. “No, thank you! But, I must ask of you something that I need as a request.”

He grins. “Anything is yours that I will gladly share, princess.”

She exhales with a puff of worry and wrings both hands. “Well, I really hate to mention this, since we’re about to leave Mercian forever, deflating a war and such…”

“Don’t worry about the war! It hasn’t started yet. And I feel strongly with my Touch that the spinner invasion on Harrogate is a big boo-boo, just a sightseeing party. I don’t believe the Vilo know their space dust around the opposite side of Intragalaxy. What is our request, Parra?”

She frowns. “I feel the same wrong energy within my Touch, too. Tarn has my bato.”

Womack drops open a mouth with a smile and a chuckle. “I’ll mail it to you.”

She frowns. “No.”

He chuckles. “I’ll send it to you by a destructive gopher drone without firing armaments, next week to Ultimedia.”

She frowns. “No. I must possess my bato. If not, Marcola and Cotana and my father will notice it missing and then I will be questioned. Then, I will be forced to lie for you and Tarn and the Dihe. And then, they will know using their talented Touch on me, too. Then, they’ll get really mad and really attack on Mercian and the western side of Intragalaxy.”

Womack slumps both shoulders with a nod and a stern face. “You are too precise with your Touch. My Touch tells me so, also. Okay! Tarn is on Koorskis. Maries sent all the Dihe children and teens there, avoiding the war and the warriors. We shall fly to Koorskis. But, you stay inside the spinner, for safety and unharmment. I’ll run inside and find Tarn. He is located inside the entertainment room of the Dihe outpost, probably eating food and attacking the electronic game booths for fun and amusement.” He moves ahead toward the mouth of the cave, seeing the blue sky, the yellow sunshine, and the white clouds with a sigh and a smile. “Goodbye, Mercian!” He bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch leap into the air with a shout, “NOOT!”

She shakes her curls with a grin and a giggle. She doesn’t know what the Dihe term means. But, she copycats Womack, bending and leaping a body into the air flying like a bird with the Touch and shouts with a smile, “NOOT, too!”

 

 

Hours 24 and Minutes 04

Dihe Outpost One

Conference room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

 

 

The door opens.

Maries enters and scoots around the conference room, holding the teardrop table which has become the new command center for the Dihe war with the Vilo. She awaits the arrival of the other Dihe warriors.

The current warriors are gathering supplies and gear for the upcoming battle with the Vilo on the tender lovely pinked sky planet of Harrogate. Her long distance verbal and visual communication messages have been both scattered and sketchy, coming from the lousy administrators on Harrogate. They have reported only two invasion Vilo spinners, not seeing any more ships or warriors or fights. But, almost all the residents have fled from the planet, lounging on sofas, waiting and watching for the upcoming war with the Vilo and Dihe.

So, Maries will assess the violent situation, once the spinners land on the soil.

She slaps both hands on top of the table, caressing the beauty, growling with fear and whispers with a raised eyebrow. “I knew that this day would arrive, coming for me. However, I didn’t expect it to come so close to my home world Mercian. O, well, I am ready for you, Vilo.”

The camtube on the wall behind the rear skull of Maries blinks into live and shows an array of red and black vertical lines. The speaker box squeaks then says via a female alto. “Maries?”

Maries swings around with a gasp and a confused brow, narrowing the eyelashes at the black tinted camtube without a familiar face but a familiar voice, “Marcola.”

Marcola says via the cammic. “I find it very ironic that our names begin with the same letter M, representing murder, cold-blooded, only.”

She smiles at the screen. “And I find it very ironic that our names beguile the space dust as the two most powerful Touchers within Intragalaxy.”

“I anticipate the honor of meeting, the second best Toucher of Intragalaxy.”

Maries laughs at the dark camtube. “I plan the honor of meeting, the second best Toucher of Intragalaxy, too.”

“I am sorry about the tiny tiff on Harrogate. I cannot control all my subjects, at all times. A couple of Vilo families left Ultimedia, gliding around inside their spinners along the river of time, after the immediate and colorful destruction of Chamme.”

Maries gasps with a grin. “No problem on our end of Intragalaxy. Don’t think about it!”

“I am thinking about the devastation of Chamme. Do you know who could have or would have imploded an entire exo-planetoid along with its two dwarf stars out from outer space?”

Maries gasps, again. “Naw, I do not think so.”

Marcola laughs via the cammic. “I like your word play, Maries. Therefore, I invite you and your word play to come and enjoy Ultimedia with me and my word play. I hope you do not have any plans, this evening. It is very early morning here on Ultimedia. If you arrive soonest, then it will be in time for tea. I like my tea, served hot and sizzling with yummy sweets.”

Maries sneers. “I like my tea, hot and sizzling too, without the icy sweets. I accept, Vilo Queen Marcola. See ya’ll for tea, dear!”

Marcola laughs via the cammic, again. “See you for tea, High Dihe Mistress Maries. And try not to ram into the space rocks which have been left by Chamme, darling!”

The camtube goes black as the cammic sizzles with silver colored space radiation.

Maries sneers then growls then shouts, tossing both arms into the air inside the quiet room. “Where’s Womack?”

Thane rushes and stands inside the archway with a grin and a giggle, “Hi, Maries! I am here to assist and help. What is the first task that needs to be done?”

“Where is Womack?” Maries stands from the chair and encircles the table with impatience.

Thane stands and smiles inside the archway at the back spine of Maries. “O, I know. My daughters are on Koorskis. They told me that Womack was there for a short period of time, checking on his…”

Maries swings around with a gasp and advances forward to the archway with a fake smile. “I am leaving and traveling to Koorskis, now.”

Thane side steps with a confused brow from the archway. Maries passes with a fake smile in silence. Thane swings around with a confused brow, staring the back spine of Maries. “What about the war?”

“There is no war.” Maries dashes ahead down the hallway to the front door of the building.

Chapter Twenty

Dihe Outpost

 

 

Exo-planetoid Koorskis with one white dwarf star

Hours 13 and minutes 22

Early afternoon

Cool temperatures with bright stars

Twelve mph galactic winds, ten percent humidity

Teenling entertainment room

 

 

The teenling entertainment room is square shaped with three walls of activities. The entrance holds a wide archway, where three or four Dihe can enter the room. One short side walls hold a series of closed doors that hold an individual play room for the player of an electronic game with a friend or a foe or maybe, a moaning couple over the long sofa, without supervision.

The other short side wall displays a wall of electronic player and gamer booths, where two to four teenlings can occupy for fun and giggles.

The middle of the room holds a very large camtube, currently showing an active program. There are numerous living room furniture pieces with a set of low tables. Each table possesses tubs and containers of unhealthy food snacks and sweet tasting beverages which is bad for human-kind teeth and species-kind fangs.

The long wall which is across from the entrance archway displays one single long glass window for viewing the white dwarf star, the white grass, and the golden trees that are used to make golden beer. The window is newly installed, compliments of the old Dihe warriors that live on exo-planetoid Koorskis.

The ancient Dihe warriors used the room for a dance and dinner hall during the non-working days for fun and pleasure.

Nimtarts holds Voxi by the hand with a smile, moving around each electronic playing game station within the noisy entertainment room, pointing to each object with a nod, “How about some shadow boxing, blossom?”

The entertainment room is located inside the enclosed and protective Dihe Outpost Number Sixteen. A continuous high concrete fence surrounds the outpost building and miles of white dirt grounds. The outpost is hardly used, except for an emergency situation like wartime and it is being used for the first time within 29,000 years.

The outpost is three stories tall without an exterior balcony or a side exit door for protection and defense of the interior inhabitants. The first floor is the command center which is a large auditorium-like space, housing an assortment of camtubes, cammics, and campads without a set of viewing windows to see the enemy. There are numerous interior side doors, holding a set of single medium sized rooms for some Dihe planning go-to action, including the kitchen room for food, and the MEX electronic room for communication spying. There are two medium sized entertainment rooms for the children and the teenlings, keeping the precious loved ones close but occupied during a wartime crisis.

The second level holds an additional set of entertainment rooms and all the sleeping units, protecting the young Dihe and non-Dihe family members.

Currently, on the first level, the younger Dihe children are playing and pooping inside the first entertainment room which is located on the extreme opposite side of the long hallway and it is far away from the Dihe teenlings, where four year old Kooce is having a fun time.

Zeelee stares and stands inside the teenling archway, wondering who is making the biggest ugliest mess, the snarling teenlings or the screaming children.

The third level houses a set of individual observation stations, watching for trouble. Koosbay is there, waiting and watching for any wartime action. He is also hooking up the electronics, aiming the outer space satellite toward the planet of Harrogate, transmitting any type of Vilo and Dihe war action directly down into the extra-large camtube inside the teenling entertainment room.

Koosbay and Zeelee are staying behind the active war lines, protecting and guarding all the Dihe children, mostly. The trained and practiced Dihe teenlings can defend themselves, in any type of war battle, if one presents itself today or tomorrow or never.

The Dihe clan of adults are preparing for war, meeting inside the war conference room on planet Mercian. The other Dihe warriors are quickly sailing in an individual rusty spinner toward the headquarters building Dihe Outpost One, where Maries and Womack are explaining the war attack plan on planet Harrogate.

Voxi frowns with disappointment and wants to go and hide inside one of the dark play rooms along the side wall and then play with Nimtarts for her fun, “No.”

Nimtarts moves with a smile to the next electronic game station, “How about some Pit wrestling? I like wrestling with you, Voxi.”

She swings with a smile to face the wall and a side closed door. “How about we wrestle for real inside an empty playroom?”

Nimtarts spins around with a worried brow to see the solid wall of rooms. Some of the doors are closed. Some of the doors are opened. “Naw, we are just killing some wasted time, waiting for the real blood and guts war to start in living colors on the camtube.” He turns and moves with a smile at the next object with her, “How about some spinner races toward the edge of the galaxy? I like racing over the river of time. I wish that we could do for real like when we were exploring the galaxy. It was really fun and different and…”

She turns and frowns at the entertainment booth. “No.”

Cherwell slaps Nimtarts on the collar bone with a nod and a growl. “The war begins. It’s playing in vivid colors on the camtube. Get a seat and shut up!” She swings around with a smile and a growl, dashing to a cold spot on the long sofa.

Nimtarts drops open a mouth and closes it with a hoot and a smile, leaning over and cuddles Voxi. They turn and dash toward one of the long sofas on the opposite side of the room, stopping. All the furniture pieces are full with a gang of sitting teenlings, who are eating, too. He exhales with a huff of annoyance and spins around with a frown, dragging Voxi to the side of the long sofas, out of eyeball range. He stops and turns, sitting on top of the floor beside a low table that holds all types of food items. He sees the camtube with a smile and tosses both hands, wiggling the fingers of ejon, performing a Touch grab of a bowl of food. The bowl lifts from the table surface, into the air, and lands inside both hands of Nimtarts. He scoots closer to Voxi, sharing the food prized with a chuckle and a smile, watching the camtube.

Bee-like Taradash flutters in the air without using a pair of natural wings with a nod and a giggle, performing a Touch hold in the air beside the camtube as she is too tiny to block the large screen from a pair of naked eyeballs. She gasps with shock and points at the screen. “There, it is! A Vilo spinner, it sorta looks like ours. But, its bigger then ours, thou. Why does it look like ours, too?”

The spinner slows over the landscape and then parks down over the soil.

Tarn stands from the floor with a confused brow and moves closer to the camtube, studying the image.

Rat-like Moro stands, not so tall at four feet from the floor and waves both short arms with a sour frown and a matching tone. “Move your…yeah, Tarn, from the screen. You’re blocking my vision.”

“Every teenling blocks your vision, little rat.” Elephant-like Gamnon occupies a side sofa with a buddy of food items on each side, saying with a smile and a laugh. “Move and sit on the floor like Dihe Master Nimtarts, doofur.”

“Wait!” Tarn tosses a palm in the air and leans over into the screen, pointing at the screen with a worried brow. “Look there, the color of the soil is white tinted, not blue colored. The planet of Harrogate has blue dirt, not white grass,” gasping. “The Vilo spinner has landed here on Koorskis, not there on Harrogate.”

Gamnon exhales. “Naw, Tarn! The Vilo warriors have demolished and destroyed the swanettes on Harrogate. That’s why it is white colored from the pretty stark white tinted blood of all the dead swanettes.”

Ceffee sits next to her sister in a second long sofa, sobbing with tears of sadness. “Poor baby chick swanettes!”

Quimpher stands from the sitting chair with a worried brow and waves all limbs around the air waves, spurting water droplets near the water and Cherwell. “They’re here to conquer Koorskis again like in centuries ago, during the ancient civil war.”

All the other teenlings stand from the furniture item and sound with a loud cheer and claps of victory of the Dihe clan.

Ezatala turns and runs into the wall, slamming into the closed door with her hoofs, scratching off the new paint with a worried brow and a sissy whine, back steps and opens the door to see darkness. “We don’t have another escape from the teenling entertainment room but the single archway. The windows don’t open, either. I’m going to die here.”

Cherwell reaches over and whips out the crystal bato with a growl, slicing it in the air waves with a grin. “Because we’re Dihe, there is no escape, only capture.” She turns and dashes toward the archway. “Charge, Dihe! Follow me! I lead the charge and the capture of the Vilo toars. Then, we roast their hides and fed them to the moog monsters.”

The other teenlings reach over and pull out a bato, turning and dash out the archway with a loud victory cheer, following behind the back spine of Cherwell.

Tarn swings around with a sour frown to see the archway and the fleeing buttholes of the noobs, parking both hands on a hip with a yell, “Naw, buds, blossoms, come back here, now! The spinner is a Vilo. Yeah, I’ve seen it before. Hey, the ship is not fighting or conquering or doing nothing but landing here on Koorskis,” he shakes his curls and moves ahead to the archway.

All the teenlings exit the fun entertainment room, leaving Tarn alone.

Womack appears and stands inside the archway, staring at his son with a smile, “Tarn!”

Tarn stops and stands in place with a smile, “Dad, you’re here. Dack, why you driving the stolen Vilo spinner? O yeah, it is a piece of stolen property of the Vilo. I guess, they want it back for the war,” chuckling.

He enters the room with a stern face and stops, standing in front of Tarn with a serious tone. “You possess Parra’s bato.” He extends out an open palm.

Tarn whips out her bato from the vest with a smile, holding it in the air and caresses the smooth crystal, feeling her presence within her personal ejon power of the weapon. He extends and slaps the bato into the open palm of Womack with a gasp and a smile. “Are you returning the spinner and Parra to her home world of Ultimedia?”

He accepts and caresses the smooth bato with a nod and a grin at the object, “A fine weapon of bato, she did an excelling job, too. Yes, I’m taking her home, both the girls,” chuckling.

Tarn gasps with a nod. “I wanna come with ya’ll, Dad. Please, pretty please! Hey, what about the war?”

He looks up with a grin and a wink to see Tarn. “What does your Touch tell you, Tarn?”

Tarn closes the eyelids and rotates the neck muscles around and around, stopping and opens the eyelids with a smile. “Yeah, it’s a bust. What are the Vilo doing here on our side of Intragalaxy, thou?”

He laughs. “I suspect a short and rough vacation tour on the pretty nice atmosphere of Harrogate. Or hunting the forbidden swanette nests?”

Tarn laughs with a nod, “Yeah, I enjoyed touring Harrogate, also. Hey, we should take Parra on a short and sweet tour to Harrogate, before she leaves our side of Intragalaxy. She didn’t get to see much of this side of Intragalaxy. She deserved some fun times, after all the rough times I gave her inside the prison cell…”

He growls. “When were you inside her prison cell precisely the time periods and days, second Prime Tarn?”

Tarn tosses both palms with a laugh. “A few times, I entertained her…”

He exhales with a huff of annoyance. “Look, there is no war between the Dihe and Vilo, Tarn. The spinner compliment is two ships, visiting the planet for some pleasure fun. Yamhill and Torbay have verified, confirmed, and not announced the latest newsflash. Maries knows. She’s both mad and embarrassed, staying on Mercian along with the other adult Dihe warriors. They are lying low down into the red dirt, avoiding any social interactions and public engagements for a little while.” He chuckles then frowns. “Look, I am glad that you were able to entertain the princess for a short few days. Now, I gotta be going. Okay, Tarn? Look, I love you like a son.” He leans over and hugs Tarn, pulling back with a sad face.

Tarn frowns with annoyance, not being able to ride on the Vilo spinner with his dad and Parra, saying with a smile and a nod. “I love you, too, Dad. But, I wanna go and ride the spinner one more time, before she’s returned to her owners. Wait, how are you going to get back from Ultimedia to Mercian, without a second spinner and second pilot? See, you need me, Dad. I can prep the old spinner within minutes, seconds, milliseconds, right now…”

He reaches over and slaps the collar bone of Tarn with a sigh. “Tarn, I am…”

Wolf-like Cherwell enters and shoves the Vilo capture through the archway with a yell and a sneer. “We got our captive Vilo over here. Come and look at our capture, High Master Dihe Womack.”

Elephant-like teen Gamnon and octopus-like teen Quimpher stroll beside the Vilo captive, coming through the wide doorway of the teenling entertainment room, guarding her from an escape off the world of Koorskis. Both her hands are tied in front of the gala gown, and as she wears a face of both alert and worry.

Cherwell leads with a nod and stops in the middle of the room with a growl, facing the nose profile of Tarn and Womack. “We captured the Vilo princess, after escaping from our home world Mercian. She was refueling her stolen spinner on Koorskis.” She swings around with a growl and tosses both arms with the bato into the air for victory. “We’re great, the teenlings of Dihe.”

Quimpher and Gamnon spin Parra around, standing slightly in front of Cherwell, facing Tarn, Womack, and the wall of electronic booths.

The other teenlings enter the room and stop, forming a semi-crooked line behind Cherwell, sounding with a loud cheer, tossing both arms with a bato with a nod and a grin. Some of the teenlings grunt and mouth spit at the long tore and stained dress hem of Vilo Princess Parra.

Womack swings around with a gasp and drops open a mouth with a growl of angry, reaching down and outlining the vest that hides the bato with a set of glowing white ejon fingernails.

Tarn turns around with a gasp of shock and moves toward the loose row of teenlings and Parra with a nod. He rolls both eyeballs and sees Parra with the teenling annoyance. She doesn’t smile or wink. He halts with a sour frown and shakes his curls and his hands in front of the teenlings, “Naw, no way, she is…”

“She’s our captive.” Zeelee appears and stands inside the archway with a smile and a nod, aiming the bato at the nose profile of Parra with a snarl. “Good work, teenlings! We march the Vilo capture down the hallway, down the rear stairs, and into our prison cell for holding. Then, we call Maries and the other Dihe warriors. We protect our prisoner and then call the Vilo king, demanding a ransom. Then, the war will done for our Dihe victory,” giggling.

The teenlings stomps a pair of boot heels, tossing both arms with a bato and sounds with a series of cheers, hisses, and grunts.

Koosbay appears and stands inside the archway without holding a bato and gently cuddles Zeelee into a chest, entering the room with a growl and a sour frown. “What the dack is going on in here? What are you, teenlings doing in here? Lower your batos, right now!”

Tarn spins to Koosbay and tosses both arms without the bato with a smile, “Wane!”

Zeelee cuddles inside the chest of her husband, still aiming a bato at Parra with a lady sneer. “She’s the enemy. She’s a war prisoner.”

Koosbay exhales with a huff of annoyance and shakes the long hair braid with a sour frown. “There is no war, dear. It was a false alarm. So, every teenling calm down and behavior, right now, here inside the Dihe outpost.”

All the teenlings slam a smile into a frown and drop a bato down to a kneecap or a hairy leg equivalent.

Ceffee turns and frowns at Koosbay. “What does that mean?”

Cherwell turns to see Koosbay and thumbs over a collar bone at Parra with a growl. “Then we, the Dihe will ransom the Vilo princess back for some riches. She is not leaving here from Koorskis ever.”

The line of teenlings sounds with a series of cheers, claps, hisses, grunts, stomping a pair of boot heels, tossing the bato into the air, again.

Womack turns and pitches her bato at the wrist ropes with a sneer and a yell, “Get ready, Parra!”

Parra draws both wrists taunt and as, her bato cleanly slices the cloth ropes in half. The ropes drop and fall down to the tile. She catches her bato with a grin and a giggle. Her touch activates the bato that glows with white ejon.

Parra advances forward from the line of her captures and swings around with a sneer, facing the teens. She crouches into a fighting en guard position, holding the weapon in a two-fisted pose and as the white energy dances, before her face. She slices her eyelashes side to side for the upcoming Dihe attack.

The other Dihe teenlings drop open a mouth and a bato down to the kneecap in shock, staring at the Vilo princess.

“She is glowing in white ejon.” Yachats points with a gasp at the fingernails of Parra.

Ezatala gasps with shock at the fingernail of Parra. “She is one of us.”

“She is not one of us.” Gamnon stares and sneers at the glowing fingernails of Parra.

Moro hisses at the glowing fingernails of Parra. “She is one of the Vilo.”

“Get her!” Cherwell raises the bato over her hair roots with a growl and stomps a boot toe toward Parra first for the Vilo kill.

The semi-crook row of teenlings lifts an individual bato over a set of hair roots with a sneer and a loud cheer, also.

Womack bends both kneecaps and performs a Touch leap into the air and a Touch somersault without hitting the ceiling. All the eyeballs follow Womack. He executes a Touch down into a crouch with a sneer in front of Parra with a growl. “No one touches my daughter.”

Every mouth drops open with a gasp.

“Dad?” Tarn turns and gasps in shock at the nose profile of Womack.

Koosbay performs a Touch dash from the archway and slaps a pair of big feet onto the tile, pivoting and facing the Dihe teenlings line with a sneer and stands besides Womack, protecting the Vilo princess, who is Womack’s daughter. “Stand down, Dihe!” He waves a free hand side to side for teenlings to scatter from him and Parra.

Zeelee performs a Touch run and a Touch halt, standing beside her husband with a sneer at the teenlings. “Back off! I don’t take prisoners or hostages.” She waves the bato tip back and forth at the stunned and shock Dihe teenlings, too.

“Stow your bato, now! Back up, find seats or sit on the floor, now. Obey the adults, now!” Koosbay stands upright with a nod and a stern face, understanding the need for family love, support, and survival.

The native Koorskians of exo-planetoid of Koorskis had been hunted down and killed like a beast-kind for their golden body for centuries. The biological body of a Koorskian is made of golden hair, skin, bones, and meat. Then a lone scouting pair of Dihe warriors came along. The Dihe Master and Mistress saved the entire exo-planetoid, sacrificing their individual lives for the kind and kin species of Koosbay.

Koosbay was a small child during the bloody slaughter, losing numerous family members. He cuts eyeballs to his devoted and very pregnancy wife Zeelee.

Zeelee turns and nods with a stern face to Koos. She is not allowing anyone to harm the princess, who is Womack’s daughter. Next to the paired High Dihe Mistress Maries and her husband, she is one of the most powerful Dihe within the clan throughout the Intragalaxy.

All eyeballs continue to stare in silence at Womack.

Womack exhales with a huff of relieve and stands upright with a stern face, turning and slumps forward both shoulders with a fake smile and a sad heart, extending a hand, “Tarn.”

Tarn exhales with a huff of confusion and slowly moves over the tile, stopping and stares at Parra in silence.

Parra stands upright with a stern face and ties the crystal bato onto the waist of the torn gown, turning and moves, stopping and stands beside Womack with a nod to see Tarn in silence.

Womack retrieves the hand and lifts, slapping Tarn on the collar bone with a stern face. “Tarn, I wanna explain all and everything to you. I’m going to the Vilo world of Ultimedia. Why don’t you ride with me inside the old rust bucket spinner for the last time?” Tarn nods in silence. Womack turns and smiles at Parra. “Koos, might I ask one more good favor of you?”

Koosbay stands upright and continues to view each teenling. The teenlings separate and scatter in small huddles, sitting or standing against the walls and far away from him and Zeelee. They finger point and whisper about Parra and Womack. Koosbay turns and smiles at the nose profile of Womack. “You’re worth millions of favors, good or bad, Womack. What do you need from me, bud?”

Womack turns and smiles at Koosbay. “Could you escort the princess back home to Ultimedia, flying her Vilo spinner? They are waiting to give Parra a grand welcome and wash the tainted metal dust of Mercian from both girls.” He turns with a wink and a chuckle to see Parra. “Tarn and I are taking of the Dihe spinner to Ultimedia, ensuring the returning band of Dihe warriors receive their own welcoming party celebration of peacetime.”

Koosbay nods with a stern face in silence and hides the bato inside the vest, turning with a smile to see Zeelee and his son Kooce. She had run and collected her little son from the children’s entertainment room, feeling mommy separation emotions upon learning the truth of Parra.

He moves ahead and stops, leaning down with a smile and a whisper to Zeelee, kissing her lips, pulling back with a smile and squats, hugging his wiggling son. He kisses Kooce on the golden hair roots and hugs him for a second time with a whisper and a smile into the face of his son. Kooce giggles with a nod. Koosbay stands upright and spins around with a nod to Womack and Parra, swinging around to face the archway with a hand motion and a yell of adventure. “Come on, Parra! Let’s get you back home to your family, too. I always wanted to fly with a royal princess inside a royal luxury spinner, anyways.” He exits the archway with a grin.

Each Dihe teenlings leans over into a face with a finger point and a whisper about Parra and Womack.

Zeelee nods with a smile to Womack in silence, cuddling Kooce.

Womack turns and hugs Parra, leaning over and kisses her forehead, pulling back with a smile. “I will explain all and everything to you, too. Enjoy your ride! Koos is the ‘bestest’ pilot of Intragalaxy, as well as, one of the ‘bestest’ Touchers. You will be both safe and secure with him. Tarn and I will see both of you on Ultimedia. So long for now, daughter of mine!” He releases a touch of love into her mind.

Parra gasps with a nod in silence, feeling shock, not being able to communicate the set of raw emotions and turns with a stern face to see Tarn, shaking her curls.

Tarn exhales with a huff of confusion at Parra and motions for her to leave Koorskis in silence.

Parra nods in silence to Tarn and moves toward the archway, turning and dashes down an empty hallway, catching up with Koosbay with a grin and a giggle of adventure.

Womack advances ahead and stops, standing and wraps an arm around Tarn, tapping the collar bone with a smile, facing the archway. “Let’s go, Tarn! The ride is short along with my personal explanation.”

Tarn exhales with a huff of confusion and moves beside Womack, his non-father toward the archway, looking down with a sad face at the dirty floor, feeling angry, sadness, happiness, shock, surprise, and other tart and sweet emotions inside his strong bones and his pumping blood.

They exit the entertainment room.

The teenlings move and gather around Zeelee with questions.

Zeelee exhales with a puff of confusion and touches an aching temple of puzzlement, back stepping with a stern face and sits down on the long sofa, holding Kooce inside a lap. Then, she listens to the tart whines of the Dihe teenlings, without possessing any answers, either.

 

 

Hours 14 and minutes 14

Teenling entertainment room

 

 

Maries appears and stomps inside, stopping a few inches inside the teenling entertainment room with a worried brow, turning and scans the room. Some teenlings sit around the camtube, watching a program. Some teenlings sit around Zeelee, asking questions. Some teenlings sit in the wall corner, whispering to each other. She gasps with worry about her son. “Where’s Tarn? I don’t see my son here inside the teenling entertainment room on the Dihe outpost.”

“Tarn is with Womack.” Zeelee turns and nods with a stern face to see Maries.

She gasps with shock. “Where is Womack?”

Ezatala stands from the chair and points at the wall with a smile and a nod to Maries. “Womack and Tarn rode off together, flying toward the Vilo home world of Ultimedia.”

Cherwell stands from the chair and points up with a sour frown at the ceiling. “When’s the war coming?”

Maries swings around with a sour frown and a sneer to face the archway of the room. “There is no war, but mine.” She exits the room with a sneer and moves back down the dirty hallway to her personal spinner.

Ceffee stands from the chair with a giggle and points at the butthole of Maries with a smile. “I guess she’s going to Ultimedia, too. I wished that we could visit a different planet beside old Mercian.”

Moro frowns at the program on the camtube screen, mouth spitting out abuses and ugly food particles over the floor, his legs, and the food plate. “Don’t make wishes, doofur! They all come true, even the bad ones,” he drinks the cold beverage and burps with laugh at the funny camtube program.

 

 

Hours 15 and minutes 15

Teenling entertainment room

 

 

The unknown teen male appears and stands with a grin inside the archway of the teenling entertainment room on the Dihe outpost on the exo-planetoid of Koorskis. He stands six feet and five inches of mesomorph body type with a head of naturally wavy creamed colored hair that bounces over set of broad shoulders. He possesses a rectangular face with a strong square jaw line and scans the room with a pair of violet colored eyes that glow against his liver colored skin.

Rat-like Moro burps from the delicious snack and turns with a sour frown to see the tall shadow inside the archway, standing from the chair at the snack table, not so tall at four feet short, jabbing a finger and a sneer at the male. “Who are you, doofur? This is a guarded and restricted outpost of the Dihe clan. You are not allowed in here with us, teenlings. And how in the dack did you get inside the outpost, without being seen, either?”

The unknown teen male stomps inside the room a few inches with a chuckle and a smile, whipping out a crystal bato into the air and near the sneer, matching his emerald green fingernails. “I come for the war with the Dihe warriors, are you it inside this tiny room?”

Wolf-like Cherwell stands from the chair with a gasp and turns with a growl, dropping open a mouth in shock along with the other teenlings.

The large room quickly floods with numerous rows of Vilo teen warriors, dashing through the open archway, wanding a crystal colored bato between a set of colored fingernails at each Dihe teenlings with a rebel yell and a nasty sneer.

War has begun within Intragalaxy.

Chapter Twenty One

Womack

 

 

Present day and place

 

 

Exo-planetoid Koorskis (40 quadrillion space miles to Ultimedia)

One white dwarf star

Hours 13 and minutes 32

Early afternoon

Cold temperatures with bright white tinted dwarf star light

Twelve mph galactic winds, ten percent humidity

Dihe spinner of High Dihe Master Womack and first Prime Tarn

 

 

Womack pushes Tarn down the hallway from the teenling entertainment room with a smile of happiness. His daughter is safely leaving the planet of Koorskis. The weak minded, wealthy rich and chicken stew native Koorskians would not harm Parra ever. But Womack cannot speak for the current mood of the Dihe warriors.

The Dihe warriors have become a blood-thirsty race of insensitivities for some reason. Actually, Womack has a certain rational reason but can’t prove it yet.

The hallway is empty without a planetoid native or a Dihe teenling.

A Dihe male dresses in a pair of comfortable trousers and a pair of knee boots, any color. The trousers are paired with a long sleeved shirt and a leather vest, any color. The vest holds and hides many Dihe tools, including the bato. The bato is usually hidden inside the leather vest of the Prime, since Intragalaxy thrives in an atmosphere of peace and prosperity. The last intragalactic war was 29,000 years ago.

Womack lifts and aims the bato at the solid door frame, releasing a white beam of ejon from his inner self, shattering the metal away from the archway as the door rips and whips from the metal hinges, flinging up into the air, landing down over the white grass. He chuckles with a smile.

His violent action had released some penned up frustration with from the selfish attitude of his wife Maries, the tart behavior of his son Tarn, and the sweet disposition of his newly discovered daughter Parra.

Womack shoves the collar bone of Tarn out the building without talking. He is in a rush to see and greet Queen Marcola for the final time. He dashes across the white manicured grass and stomps up the lowered tilted ramp of the old Dihe rusty and scorched spinner, moving toward the metal wall and stops, standing.

Each spinner is colored in the same shade of dull silver with its own unique set of exterior geometric symmetry scratches plus some weirdly decorated rusty patches. Each Dihe spinner carries the same ship dimensions, a width of sixty feet, a height of twenty feet, and a transparent clear half-rounded tip on top of the star ship.

The old Dihe disc-shaped spinner sits lazily over the white grass, shining in silver spots from the white dwarf star of exo-planetoid Koorskis.

Tarn possesses a husky deep rich baritone timber, standing at six feet and six inches, a set of wide board shoulders which has been built with a set of hard muscles on top of fit waist and a pair of narrow hips. He has a head of shoulder length blonde colored hair and a pair of blue eyeballs on a diamond sculptured face of peach skin that is dusted with a face of light blonde whiskers.

He follows behind the back spine of Womack. Tarn is ranked as a first Prime within the Dihe tribe.

The Dihe talent ladder starts with High Master Dihe and his partner High Mistress Dihe. They are equal like…yeah. The next level going down to the bottom is first Prime, second Prime, and then a Primeling.

The spinner is empty except for the boot heel taps.

Tarn moves up the walking ramp and stops, sliding down into the pilot chair, sitting in front of the viewer camtube screen window and exhales with a huff of depression. “I really don’t feel like piloting, sir.”

Womack moves with a smile and slams Tarn on the collar bone. “Yeah, you do. You need to listen. Yeah, I do. I need to talk. Intragalaxy is eighty quadrillion space miles across from end to end. We’re at the half way mark to Ultimedia, Parra’s home world.”

Tarn reaches over and presses the button, activating the charged ions, saying meekly. “You should lock into a chair, sir. I’m haven’t got the hang of jumping into the river of time good yet.”

Womack moves around the console with a laugh and a smile, slapping the camtube and types in a secret code.

The spinner lifts and ascends into the skyline to the river of time.

 

 

Outer space the river of time (34 quadrillion space miles to Ultimedia)

Vilo spinner of Princess Parra and Dihe Master Koosbay

 

 

Parra sits at the vanity mirror, brushing her hair from a quick bathe and a change into a princess gown, after meeting and messing with the silly Dihe teens in the entertainment room on the planetoid of Koorskis. This will be her first and last trip to the white planet and the golden people. She frowns at the upcoming meeting with her biological mom and her newly discovered adoptive dad, pondering the numerous questions inside her active neurons.

 

 

Pilot console setting

 

 

Golden colored Koosbay shifts both hands over the glass inside the chair, flying through the river of time, avoiding the radiation potholes and glances at the viewer screen.

The viewer screen shows. Womack paces back and forth in front console as his colorful image is beaming directly the luxury spinner of Princess Parra for some reason.

Koosbay leans over and slaps the volume button without transmitting back to Womack, since the screen is a visual and an audio feed, coming from the other spinner.

Womack says via the speaker box. “I guess you desire to know the story of Parra…”

Koosbay gasps and yells. “Parra, come in here, now. You wanna here this, sweetheart.”

Parra appears and moves from the archway with a smile, standing and seeing Womack on the viewer screen and gasps, sliding into the second chair by Koosbay.

 

 

Outer space the river of time (39 quadrillion space miles to Ultimedia)

Dihe spinner of Dihe High Master Womack and first Prime Tarn

 

 

Womack paces side to side with a stern face on the opposite side of the pilot console out of eyeball range of Tarn but within the screen.

Tarn exhales with a huff of mixed deep teenly emotions, watching the viewer screen for the red puddles of radiation, shifting his ejon hands over the glass and around the radiation. “Sir…”

“You used to call me, Dad.” Womack paces side to side with a stern face as Parra and Koosbay see and listen to Womack inside her spinner ship from the hidden wall camera. Womack had punched a secret code into the slot to access the Vilo spinner which only he knows and will not share.

Tarn watches the viewer screen, steering the spinner with his ejon hands over the glass. “This is very different for me, sir.”

“Do you want to start the interrogation with me? Or do you want me to tell the science fiction tale to you, Tarn.” Womack paces side to side with a chuckle.

“You are her biological father. However, Maries is not her biological mother, since I am an only child. Therefore, so I guess that Parra is somehow my half-sister.” He whispers for his eardrums only with a sissy whine. “Too bad, I really, really like the princess…”

“No.”

Tarn lifts up both hands with a gasp up from the glass as the spinner tilts and wobbles sideways over the blue ions.

Womack runs and smashes into the wall of stationary sitting chairs which are bolted into the metal with a growl. “Son…”

“Sorry.” Tarn slaps both hands down over the glass, balancing the spinner, guiding around the red puddles of radiation.

Womack pushes a body from the bolted hard metal chair on the wall with a chuckle, twirling around and resumes his pacing side to side in front of the console screen with a smile. “No. Parra is not your half-sister either. Believe it or not? I was stunned to learn that I had a biological daughter too.”

“You didn’t know, sir?”

“You used to call me, Dad.”

Tarn shifts both ejon hands over the glass around the red puddles, steering the spinner. “So, Parra is a princess of Vilo. And Marcola is the queen of Vilo. So, Marcola is her biological mother, Dad.”

Womack sneers. “Absolutely not, Tarn….”

Tarn grins. “I am just being logical and eliminating the obvious, sir. Thanks for the update.”

He frowns. “Her biological mother is Lady Sarla, another Vilo warriorette. I was never told that we had a daughter either being separated by billions and billions of space miles inside Intragalaxy.”

Tarn gasps. “How did you figure it out?”

“The night, we invaded the Chamme plaza and entered her suite for the kidnapping…”

“What?” Tarn lifts both hands up from the glass with a gasp as the spinner tilts and wobbles sideways over the blue ions.

Womack slides sideways and smashes into the wall of stationary sitting chairs which are bolted into the metal with a growl. “Son…”

Tarn says. “Sorry. You fainted after touching her hand. I…I thought you had a heart attack.”

He chuckles. “I did metaphysically. My old Touch absorbed too much truth. At my age, the Touch can be a little too much revealing and too long of knowledge. Anyways, I know back then the truth. That Parra was my daughter, when I touched her hand. I felt the Touch connection. Then my Touch revealed the birth of my biological baby girl seventeen year ago.”

“So that was your ploy all along to kidnap Para.” Tarn frowns.

“No, Tarn. I wanted to meet the Vilo lords and ladies and make peace before a war broke out with the Dihe warriors. That was my original ploy which has…”

“Yeah,” Tarn shifts both ejon hands over the glass and steers the spinner. “Yeah, Dad, I understand. Well, my Touch understands. All the Dihe old and young warriors are uptight and tense with shallow angry and hostiles.”

“Yes, I agree. And I have a working theory but for later.”

“How did you meet Lady Sarla? Was it before marrying Maries?”

“Yes and yes. Yeah, there’s a super duper story behind all that.”

“Are you going to tell me the super duper story, Dad?”

Womack halts pacing and faces the console viewer screen with a stern face. “Yes. But first, I really hate to tell you this. But I find that I must, since your mother is somewhere else and not here with us.

Tarn frowns. “Tell me what, Dad?”

“I am not your father…”

“What?” Tarn lifts both hands up from the glass with a gasp as the spinner tilts and wobbles sideways.

Womack slides and smashes into a wall of stationary sitting chairs which are bolted into the metal with a growl. “Son…”

“Dad, sir, you are not my father? Did I hear those words correctly echo from behind the console?”

“Yes.”

“I am really confused. Is Maries my biological mother?”

“Yes.”

“Who is my father, sir?”

“You used to call me, Dad.”

Silence invades the spinner room.

Womack exhales. “Tarn, I have been with you, since your birth every second of the day. Yeah, it is a long story.”

“This is a long trip.”

Womack exhales with a huff of frustration. “A long time ago, the Dihe warriors were assigned to kill the Dratux…”

Tarn shifts both ejon hands over the glass plate and steers the spinner over the river of time, “The dragon clans, they haven’t existed for centuries.”

“Because of centuries of the Dihe clan and because of me, Maries, Parra’s mom, and your dad, it was seventeen years ago…”

Tarn gasps. “Wait, impossible, I was born seventeen years ago. I re-learned in my dumbling re-class that the Dratux died millions of years ago.”

“Yes, and you need to learn in life that there is always an exception, too. The last Dratux clan had killed and consumed all the doofurs as their food source and then it escaped from their native home planet, going around and terrorizing the various settlements throughout Intragalaxy. Over the centuries, the…”

Tarn frowns. “Sounds like the dragons were cold and hungry to me…”

“Yeah. So the runaway clan of Dratux was killed but one. The Dihe clan was assigned to hunt the last dragon down and kill it, eliminating the terror threat to Intragalaxy. The Dihe were spread all across Intragalaxy from east to west and north to south corners. And we were paired with Vilo warriors too, because they had encountered and killed the dragons on their planetoids also. Maries and I were sent to the middle of Intragalaxy to a small bare rock type hot and heated asteroid. We got unlucky. We found the last dragon. Without much time and energy, we paired with the Vilo couple, two other people. One was Sarla. The other male was unnamed to me at the time.”

“Who is my father, Womack?”

Womack exhales. “You used to call me, Dad. In theory, I have been you only father for the past seventeen years, Tarn.”

Silence invades the spinner cabin.

Womack moves and sits in the chair as Tarn shifts his ejon hands over the glass, steering the spinner to Ultimedia in silence with a sour frown.

Chapter Twenty Two

Zeelee

 

 

Exo-planetoid Koorskis

Hours: 14 and minutes: 16

Cold temperatures with white bright dwarf light

Teenling entertainment room setting

 

 

Zeelee moves and stands inside an empty hallway, watching the High Dihe Mistress.

The butthole of Maries prances and prisses down the hallway to the door that has been ripped from the frame for some reason. She stops and touches the door frame, carefully lifting and guiding over the twisted metal with her Touch, moving with a sour frown back to her Dihe spinner ship. She enters and powers the ship, leaving the planet of Koorskis, tracking down Womack and her son Tarn.

Zeelee cannot see the physical spinner leave the white colored grass of Koorskis, but she can feel that the nasty energy life form of Maries has left the world of Koorskis. She turns with a sour frown and smiles with joy, clapping both hands to see her son. “Okay, Kooce, you have entertained the troops enough. It’s naptime, bud.”

Kooce had painted numerous gel markings with all finger pads over each face of an angry Dihe teenling to relieve the tension from the appearance of a Vilo princess inside the scared Dihe territory. Some of the gel markings showed a set of pink wavy horizontal and green vertical lines, orange colored round curly Q’s, blue colored triangles, red circles and purple squares, sorta.

The Dihe teenlings are laughing and eating snacks, too.

Zeelee moves and kneels down on one kneecap as Kooce runs and slaps her face with both wet painted hands with a giggle. She lifts and totes him on a hip bone across the room through the archway and down the hallway and into the children’s entertainment room.

 

 

Hours: 15 Minutes: 04

Children entertainment room setting

 

 

All the young Dihe children are playing inside the room with a pile of soft toys and each other, having some good-time fun. Some of the children are sucking down a plate of delicious eatings of fissers, chokers, lumpies, and crunchers on the table against the wall.

Fissers are carbonized water and sugar and flavoring that tastes best really, really cold. Chokers are twelve inches of bread filled with beast, plant, or artificial food parts. No one knows exactly what beast it is, where it comes from, and why it exists.

Lumpies are the deep fried varied colored vegetables in animal fat, drowning in either sweet or tart sauce. Crunchers are assorted dark or white hard sweet breads filled with nuts, coco, candy, or anything else sweet, that you desire.

Doughies are soft sweet breads eaten yummy raw or baked with sweet brown sugar and brown flour mixed with chocolate or bits of candy.

A fisser, choker, lumpie, and finally a cruncher, the Intragalaxy meal feeds all the growing children and teenlings.

Between the food tables, there are stacks of cots for sleeping time.

The door opens.

Kooce wiggles side to side, jumping down from the arms of Zeelee, running and slides into the pile of soft toys with a giggle and a grin and plays with his Dihe playmates.

Zeelee turns with a smile to the open archway, sliding a frown into the hallway and views a set of running away fannies on a group of tall bodies. She exhales with a puff of annoyance with a whisper. “Teenlings and trouble, it never ends.” She had offered to babysit the teenlings and the children at the same time during the Vilo invasion of Harrogate, thinking the teenlings would be a breeze to monitor. Wrong. The teenlings create more noise and more mess than the cute little toddler Dihe children.

The door closes.

She turns and moves, standing and squatting down to her son with a smile and pats Kooce on top of his golden hair roots with a giggle. “Stay here, sweetheart. Be good, Kooce. I’ll be back.”

Kooce stands and turns, kicking her with a big boot toe, mouth spitting with a grin and a giggle on her arm. “Come, Mama. I wanna see Tarn…Tarn…”

“Tarn is not there today.” She exhales. “He will be back soon. Okay.”

“Come, Mama.”

She smiles. “No, sweetheart. Stay here and play with your new friends and old friends. Do you remember Ucon and his sister Idanha? Idanha, I’ll be back in a sec. I must check on the naughty teen Dihe again.”

Idanha sits on the floor, making funny shapes with her hand with the young child with a giggle and a grin. “The teens are exceptional loud today from too much doughies.”

Zeelee stands with a smile and a nod, turning to the closed door and stops, tilting her chin sideways, hearing a set of unfamiliar faint voices. Her Touch tells her that something is wrong. She dashes to the archway.

The door opens.

She runs through the archway and stops in the middle of the busy hallway with a gasp of fear.

The Vilo Shade stops and points to Zeelee with a smile and a sneer. “Look. A koors babe.”

The second Vilo Shade runs to Zeelee with his raised bato and a grin “Get her now.”

The third Vilo Shade dashes down the hallway to her with a stern face and a sour frown. “Don’t harm her golden skin. We can sell it.”

Zeelee turns and runs back into the children’s room, swinging around and slams the door shut, holding it with her Touch and a panicked yell. “Ucon and Idanha, get all the children into the far corner now.”

Second Prime Ucon, his sister first Prime Imnaha, and the older Dihe children grab and drag the younger children into the corner as the children scream. They trip and fall over each others limbs, running and huddling in the wall corner.

Numerous tips of batos punch through the door, creating sharp points and clouds of steam from the wooden door.

Zeelee gasps with fear, back stepping from the sharp batos, expanding her Touch shield from the door frame as her Touch shield becomes weaker.

The tips of the batos disappears and punch through the edge of the wooden door, creating clouds of steams as the wooden door slowly shifts from the frame, opening the room to the invaders.

The children scream, running and crouching in the single corner wall.

Zeelee exhales with fear, twirling her bato with nervousness for the fight of her life and her son’s life too.

 

 

Hours: 15 Minutes: 15

Teenling entertainment room setting

 

 

The wolf-like species Canini are very strong and can crush and kill any predator or an annoying primeling, winning in any heated fight. The head possesses a wide forehead, a pair of bright scary turquoise eyes, a set of strong jaws with numerous sharp fangs, and a short pink muzzle for breathing.

They can run up to speeds of sixty miles per hour, chasing down their prey for fun and play too.

The ears are small and triangular which is outlined in red.

They are extremely and highly territorial species, establishing a long line of friendship and loyalty with the Dihe clans, the humanoids, the other species and all types of beast-like and creature-like beings.

The young Canini are known as “din-din” cubs but don’t insult their young. You’ll be dead quickly. They experience bouts of rage and fury when ticked off and engage in actions of direct vindication and bloody revenge for their buds. They bark, howl and drool, sometimes all at the same time.

Cherwell growls deep from a tight throat and drools from her parted lips, releasing her animal killing instincts, crouching low on the floor and leaps into the air. She raises her bato over her hair roots with a two-fisted gripe and drops it. She slices a single standing and stunned Vilo warrior down the middle of his skull, his face, his neck, and his chest, exposing his beating heart.

The Vilo warrior parts in two halves and splits as his severed body parts fall one each side of his stance.

Cherwell drops and crouches in the blood and guts with a growl and a howl, leaping into the air on a second Vilo teen warrior as the Vilo teen screams of death.

Zebra-like twins Ezatala and Cuffee scream in unison from fear at a gang of Vilo teenling warriors and warriorettes in the archway of the entertainment room, back stepping and hit the wall corner as each one whips out a bato, slicing the air molecules.

One of the Vilo warrior grunts with a smile, twirling his bato inside his fighting hand, eyeballing the Dihe zebra twins for his twin trophy for the afternoon and advances to the wall corner.

Rat-like Moro runs and stands on top of the eating table with a giggle and a grin, kicking one at a time each snack pack at the advancing and sneering Vilo warrior. “What’s your name, noob? I am named Moro from the Rogentile species.” The Vilo warrior slices his bato at Moro with a sneer, missing. His bato hits the metal electronic station, releasing amber sparks at Moro.

Moro yelps from the fire burn on his purple tender skin then leaps into the air. He scurries over each electronic station. “Come and get me, if ya can?”

The Vilo warrior sneers, chasing after Moro and runs directly into the pointy tip of a bato. Nimtarts jerks out the pointy tip of his bato with a string of flesh guts and red blood from the Vilo teen with a sneer. “Why are you here? Dack. Dead. Well let’s find another nasty Vilo and ask him my intriguing question.” He spins around, grabbing the Vilo female by the arm, swinging her around, stabbing his bato into her throat. “And why are you here, honey? Dack. Dead. So let’s ask another nasty Vilo my interesting query?” He dashes and grabs the Vilo male by the arm, stabbing his bato in the heart with a sneer. “Why are you here, dub? Dack. Dead. I guess I will seek my answer from another Vilo…”

The female cat-like species is lean, tall and covered in fine hair of black splattered with orange and yellow bars, circles, and short lines. Her only distinguishing mark from her litter mates is the orange bar on top of the black hairy skull located exactly between the middle of her soft pointy ears. Voxi winks at the advancing Vilo teen warrior. She is a Dihe Mistress with her litter mate Foxi. You can only tell the difference between the kittens by a single orange bar. The orange bar tilts sideways to the left on her hairlet black skull. She squats, flexing her limber legs, hissing and leaps into the air, landing on top the back spine of the Vilo. She stabs her bato through the neck muscles, biting down at the flesh and blood in her growling mouth of sharp fangs. She mouth spits the blood from her long tongue, jumping off the falling dead body of the Vilo, swinging and hissing at another Vilo teen. “One gone. More to tease and slaughter for my fun today…”

Bird-like Yachats flies with a giggle and a grin above the skull of the warriorette while bee-like Taradash buzzes with a smile and a snigger below the same warriorette as they both wave and poke a pointy top of a bato at a set of different high and lower body parts of the warriorette at the same time.

The Vilo warriorette dances around with pains of moans and groans, slicing her bato in the air with her lime green colored fingernails, missing the tiny Dihe warriorettes too.

First Shade Vilo Speeca moves down the busy hallway and stops, turning and standing inside the wide archway of the teen entertainment room, crossing his arms with a grin as more Vilo teens and adults scoot between his tallness and invade the large room of scared and frightened Dihe teens.

Elephant-like Gamnon back steps from the numerous row of bato fighting of Vilo and Dihe warriors, wiping the blood from his mouth, hitting the wall of glass and lifts his bato over his skull. Two lines of new Vilo adults and teens scoot around the Vilo teenling leader, entering the entertainment room. Gamnon gulps and holds his mint fresh breathe, running and dropping down onto his rounded side belly and rolls over the flat floor, knocking a line of new Vilo warriors off their boot heels as his bato slices off the ankles from the boot toes.

The row of Vilo warriors and warriorettes scream and die over the floor.

Gamnon slams into the wall without stopping his bulk weight with a dizzy head, moaning over the floor.

Octopus-like Quimpher rolls and stands on his booted feet in the middle of the Vilo warriors, stretching his four long slimy and jelly-like arms, capturing a Vilo warrior by the neck with a sneer and flings each warrior backward into the wall of glass.

The glass shatters big enough for a folded warrior body to exit from the room as each Vilo warrior flies through a tiny opening, falling and lands on the white grass with a grunt.

Speeca drops and squats inside the archway with a gasp and a whisper for his personal safety. “The window.” He slides to the side with a smile, swinging around the wall corner and closes his eyelids, performing a Touch whisper to the first Shade inside the Vilo spinner. “Second Shade Jadelina, get out and pick up all the wounded Vilo that have spilled an unconscious and bloody body around the Dihe outpost building, before you send in the cordino. And use the broken window on the north side for its grand entrance.” He stands and turns, stomping down the hallway to the children’s entertainment room with a wicked grin and an evil chuckle of the upcoming victory, stomping down a busy hallway of Vilo warriors and runs into the second Shade female.

 

 

Hours: 15 Minutes: 18

Children entertainment room setting

 

 

Second Shade Chumura stops and whispers with a sad pout and a nod in front of Speeca. “He’s sorry, really sorry.”

Speeca moves around her with a puzzled brow. “He is sorry. What is your boyfriend second Shade Rathdruma sorry about?” He turns into the open archway, standing and drops his mouth. “What the dack is this?” He covers his nose, exhaling the dead stench from his nostril hairs.

The large square room holds a sitting child on the floor surface every three feet apart. Each sitting child is wrapped in a set of tan ropes, but the child does not move or cry or breathe air. Each tiny body is swiveled into a single lump of beige colored tight skin and a loose sack of broken bones. Each distorted face looks either blue or white.

The taller and younger Vilo warrior stands and bows his chin to Speeca with a worried brow, holding his bato between his crimson fingernails. “I sorry.”

He mouth spits on the chest of the Vilo warrior teen. “Dub. You’re a dub, Rathdruma. I told you that Queen Marcola wanted all the Dihe children alive and well, not dead and roasted.” Speeca turns and looks with a sneer to each dead child inside the children’s entertainment room, flexing his orange fingernails into a set of folded fists without his bato for a beating.

First Shade female Isma nods with a smile, crossing her arm and wiggling her lavender fingernails with impatience of the short bato fight as she stares at the dead Dihe, even the children annoy her delicate human-like nose holes and eyeballs. “The cordino did a fine job for Marcola and Vilo.”

Speeca mouth spits on the floor with a sneer. “She wanted the children for some other purpose which wasn’t explained to me, only ordered to me. Dack. She’s going to have your head in the Chap for this.” He moves from the semi-crooked line of Vilo teens and squats down to the first dead child with a confused brow. “Hmm. The cordino did an excellent job of killing the young Dihe child. I can’t tell what it is…was. It looks like a saggy sack of white with a pair of red long sticks.”

The line of Vilo teens turns around to see Speeca and the dead Dihe children.

First Shade Jayturb stands within a row behind the back spine of Speeca with a nod and a stern face, waving his arms and wiggling his topaz fingernails. “This is a species from the Pacderdom group with a body of curly white hair. It is called an elephant by the Vilo.”

Speeca exhales with a sour frown. “Too bad, Marcola’s private animal xoo doesn’t have an ella-fant. It’s got a big body with some serious wicked red long fangs.”

Jayturb says with a stern face. “The red long fangs are properly called tusks. And we did retrieve an elephant, a great big one. There’s another one inside other entertainment room the Dihe teens.”

Rathdruma nods with a smile to the rear skull of Speeca. “Well I did good. I grabbed all the monkey people in here too. They’re tied up and located in one of the spinner now, unharmed and breathing.

Speeca scoots over to the next sack of bones and dried skin, frowning with puzzlement over the young Dihe child. “What monkey people?”

Jayturb says with a stern face and a nod. “That is an insulting name, Vilo warrior. They are from the Singa species, standing over seven feet at maturity with a set of six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot, feeding on tree leaves, plant nuts, grass seeds, and tree fruit. The Dihe Master is best known for twirling his bato, the weapon of the Toucher over all his fingers and toes, making the youngest Primelings giggle and laugh during the entertainment…”

“Dack.” Second Shade Taura slaps the back spine of the Vilo with a laugh and a smile. “J-turd is part Dihe. I think he should stay and babysit all the Dihe dead skeletons until the second herd of Vilo spinners return for the clean-up party.”

Jayturb says with a nod and a stern face. “It is always with honor presentation of good manners and deep respect to acknowledge another species, whether violence or not.”

Speeca stands, turning to the open archway and stop with a confused brown, kicking the golden colored girl. “What’s this?”

“A dead Koorskis female.” Chumura smiles with a nod and squats beside the body.

Speeca gasps with a smirk. “Really. Ya roped a golden crayon?”

“We roped her and her little son and a bonus, first Shape Speeca. The female is pregnant with a child too.” Chumura whips out her bato, slicing and sparking peach colored sparks over the golden skin of the stomach. “She carries an almost fully developed fetus, a little girl. There’s plenty of golden skin to go around and around…”

Speeca claps with a smile. “Excellent. Get those three bodies out of this heated room and into the operating theater on our spinner. I wanna get some golden skins sliced and stored, before Marcola gets her share. She can be such a greedy queen of Vilo all the time.”

Jayturb says with a nod and a smile. “And this is rare find indeed. The rest of the population of golden colored Koorskians are flying off the planetoid, sailing inside their new faster and sleeker spinners. They left the Dihe to die or be captured by the Vilo.”

Isma laughs with a nod, elbowing Jayturb. “The Dihe is a dying race anyways.”

Rathdruma kicks the leg of the dead Zeelee with a sneer. “This golden crayon managed to send out a Touch beacon. Now, we are tracking and tracing the old worn and faded stolen Vilo spinners from the planet Mercian, the home world of the Dihe. Shall we send out our line of our sleek and powerful new slender spinners for the chase, the capture, and the kill of the Dihe clan?”

Speeca smiles and stares down at the dead golden woman as her golden skin is being ripped from her pink bones. “Naw, not yet, let us come into the web of the spider. After the final Chap meet of blood and bones, I will personally take every single dead Dihe body back to their home world of Mercian for the surrender and capture and deaths of the Dihe race then ask the pampered Koorskians to surrender peacefully or slaughter them inside the Dihe outpost there with the other non-brave Dihe rejects?” He stands and spins with a smile and a nod to the second Shape. “You are forgiven, Rathdruma. I will substitute Cotana’s head for yours. Leave this Dihe trash here to rot and stink. Take all the alive and breathing Dihe teens and adults to the spinners as our prisoners to our Queen Marcola.”

Chumura stands with a gasp to face Speeca, tilting her chin to hear the Touch mind from the adult Vilo. “We can’t handle more Dihe, especially the adults. The Dihe spinners and the rest of the Dihe clan are landing one at a time on the grass. Our teen force is down by sixty percent. And the Vilo lords and ladies are just now landing their spinners for assistance.”

Speeca slaps Chumura on the collar bone with a laugh and a grin. “And we don’t. The cordino will.” He turns and moves down the hallway, bumping into one of the many Vilo adults with a smile, scooting around to his personal spinner back home to exo-planetoid Ultimedia with his prize for his victory.

 

 

Hours: 15 Minutes: 22

Teenling entertainment room setting

 

 

The floor shakes.

Elephant-like Oxbow runs down the hallway and turns, standing inside the archway of the teenling entertainment room, lifting and blowing a set of lung air through his nose like a musical note to alert the adult Dihe of his location.

Teen Moro leaps down from the table surface and onto the floor, tossing his short fat purple arms with a smile and a sing. “The Dihe are here to save the day. And I don’t have to do a thing,” sniggering. He turns, scurrying across the floor on his four purple hands and two booted feet like a rat and dashes from the teenly fight, sliding behind the gigantic plasma to hide. He whips out his bato, pulling and sticking the pointy tip into a circular portal behind the device and rests on top of his pink fat belly, watching the fight action through the rear view of the plasma.

The plasma screen shows an image of the fighting inside the teenling entertainment room.

Bird-like Jahally turns and flies beside Oxbow into the room, aiming and hitting the tip of bato into the eyeball of the Vilo warriorette and pulls back a purple colored bloody eyeball. She shakes her bato as the eyeball flings down to the floor.

The warriorette falls down to the floor, crying and touching the floor for her eyeball.

Jahally aims and hits the tip of his bato into the next Vilo warrior.

Monkey-like Cullom slides underneath the wide legs of Oxbow, who still blocks t