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  • #3422

    When Berberus arrived at Gazalbion, still wet from his swim down beanstalk through the City’s sewer waterslides, the Great Processor in person came to great him.

    “Dear, dear, what have we here. That’s not so often the P’hope sends someone down here with us poor heathen… To what do we owe the pleasure?”

    By the look of his office, the Processor was doing well. Small favours had earned him enough belief of his worth, and his office was full of amenities otherwise hard to come by and much more to sustain, down there.

    “Would you share with me some hydromel, made from waterbee honey, you’re not mistaken. That should help you get more… comfortable.” He said his last word intently, giving a look at the hook-leg.

    Berberus liked to have people guess at why he kept it so visible, while obviously he could have conjured enough belief to alter it himself. It gave him an edge over them. And the hook gave nasty scars too.

    “Not drinking on duty.”
    “Very well, suit yourself.” the Processor said drinking his voraciously.

    “Any strange people coming lately? Out of the ordinary beliefs to contain?”
    The other brushed off the question “No, not really… Now, about this promotion our dear friend the P’hope mentioned back in 2020, what do you think… Any chance to get out of this hellhole? Promised Land my butt. What do we get next? Flying whales?”
    “You’re not. Answering. My. Question.” Berberus was already losing his patience and started to mentally conjure the many painful ways he could believe this talk would end.
    “I have already answered it, and if you have nothing else to share with me, you might as well me back to your sad master.”

    The Processor made a movement to get up from his chair, but a swift and precise swipe of the hook-leg anchored him back in it.

    The other was looking at him with empty eyes, and the Processor’s mistake was to think he was an idiot that could be sent away easily.
    He poured himself another drink, casually answering with a “We’re done. Get out.”

    When Berberus got out, it was of his own volition, leaving a trail of blood up to the door.
    He had managed to extract one word from the slob before his soul left his body: Sanso

    #3400

    If the sabulmantium was to be trusted, the beanstalk was a tangle of many paths, and the main and easiest accesses down its dangling twirly greenish tentacles were all outside of the city walls, in a zone where some lords managed to rule pockets of mass beliefs and a bunch of unattractive mongrel mobsters.

    “Sounds potential adventure material” Mandrake had had the nerve to say when they’d packed.
    “No it isn’t” Arona had said.
    Then with more gusto “NO IT ISN’T” as though to convince all the sleepy tarts of the nymphouse below her rented room.

    More doubts had sunken their claws in her tender heart, and a gulp of whatever astral cup didn’t seem in hindsight a worthy deal for all her troubles. Nonetheless, she was a woman of her word, which was probably why she wasn’t of many. Too much trouble being of all of them, whatever that meant.

    “Honestly Mandrake, keeping you on track is worse than herding… dragons.”
    She would have said sheep, but she wasn’t so rude yet. Mandrake could have taken that too badly, and he would again prove useful to distract the guards of the Southern Post. That’s where she decided to go, as with all the heat, it had to be the one less guarded.

    Indeed, when she arrived, as planned, the gate was badly manned, and sleepy soldiers where reaching for the rare spots of shadow.
    She decided to make a run for it. The soldiers didn’t look very fit. She started to go, thinking about zigzagging between the air bottles littering the plaza, when she felt a tug pulling her back by the cloak, almost sending her flying off her butt.

    FUCK!” she shouted as silently as she could. “You again! I thought I told you not to follow me! Mandrake, attack! Go for the balls!”

    She was in a fury, but Mandrake licked his paw with a disgusted look on his face that meant “Hnhn, not going for that, sweetie. You’re on you own to herd that dragon, my lovely pooh.”

    “Shhht!” the guy said with a bit smile.
    “Don’t shush me, you… ninnyhammer!”
    She didn’t know where the last word came from, but they sure felt good, although not quite rude enough.
    “Oh, the lady is a pirate who knows her insults.” he answered with his cocky smile.
    “Don’t mock me, you mooncalf”
    “You were trying to sneak out, were you?”
    “Why do you care, hobbledehoy?”
    “The guards have aircon chain-mail and armours, see, look at those bottles on their backs… How could you beat them running with your heavy cloak?”
    “Maybe Mr Snollygoster has a better suggestion?”
    “Of course I have, if you care to follow me, Ms Mumpsimus.”

    Arona was almost speechless. Not keen on following any stranger, she asked her guts, and they seemed to have a liking for the handsome fellow. It stirred old remembrance of going with the flow tactics, and when she did actually follow him, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he and Mandrake were already ahead in one of the alleys.

    “Oh, no, let him have the keys to some secret tunnel, I won’t go for another sewer escape!”
    As if her guardien angel has heard her secret prayer, it happened that the stranger had some strange stone key in his bag, opening a secret wall entrance.

    “Oh.” was all she conceded to the stranger.
    Nonplussed he offered her his hand “George” he presented himself still with the same broad smile.
    She took his hand haughtily, and entered the vaulted tunnel, not telling him yet her name, in case she felt like choosing a sexy and mysterious code name. She could trust no one…

    “Traitor” she hissed at Mandrake who was purringly looking at the strangers’ boots.

    #3384
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      The Meteorlogist had forecast a shower on the south-most part of the bog.
      It was such a rare occurrence that a team of magi from Karmalott had been dispatched to study it more closely.
      When they arrived at the viewpoint, the youngest one asked : “Have you ever heard a slug fart in the silence of the bog ?”

      #3377

      “What does it say, Sanso?”
      The four travelers had arrived on the island in patchy swirling fog in a field full of cucumber plants and sundials. The sundial nearest to Sanso had a letter tied to the handle with blue ribbon.
      “If that’s not for me, I don’t know what is,” he snorted, untying the letter as Lisa looked at him in amazement.
      “Really, Sanso, that seems so implausible,” she said.
      “What does it say?”

      bq(Quote).“And we start to hope that if we keep on digging,” Sanso read, “All the way to the core, if we don’t stop, if we perforate the land like a honeycomb, if we make it as flimsy as silk, maybe it will suddenly collapse in on itself. And then, like a tray piled with cups of coffee and cookies that crashes to the floor in a mess of crumbs and glass, it will all mix together.

      The upper part and the lower part will blend. And the rules will change. And we’ll be able to say with a sigh of relief: Here is a piece of sky mixed with a cracked piece of sea; here is Shujaiyeh mixed with Sderot; here is Zeitoun mixed with the Mount of Olives; here is compassion mixed with relief; here is one human being mixed with another. above, and with them build a new land.”

      “Oh my,” said Fanella, “Are you sure we’ve come to the right place?”

      “And an entire people will rise to the surface of the earth,” Sanso continued, “ Pale and faded, blinded by the sun that beats down on the land. And we will stand in silence, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the light. And as we stand there in silence, the fear and anxiety will gradually creep into our heart, that while we were finding refuge in subterranean Gaza, the land above took its own life, was left behind and emptied out.”

      “Gorden Bennet,” said Lisa.

      #3375
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        “I can’t believe I thought I was fired”, said Terry. She tittered.
        They had shown the letter to Maurana when she arrived, and to Consuela’s dismay, noticed their three names were now on the envelope.

        “Rumor has it that she nails whole cat skins on her walls”, said Maurana.
        “Only road kicked ones”, added Terry.
        “That’s disgusting. The bitch”, said Consuela. Had the thing not been so sensitive, Maurana would have laughed at Cedric’s grimace.
        “When do you think she will arrive ? And why would they put someone on our back ? We were doing great on our own.”

        #3371

        Less than a month had passed since Arona had arrived at Karmalott, hoping for a nice vacation time. Apparently, it wasn’t that long before her reputation for lost causes and recovering lost precious item preceded her.

        With the kids all grown up, and her on and off relationship with Vicentius, she clearly wanted to get some focus back into her life, and she had to agree a quest would do her good. There was nothing like putting back to work all her finest skills she’d honed along many years of practice.

        “This mission is cra-zy” Mandrake objected.
        “Of course it is, that is why you want to come along.”
        “True enough, the heat isn’t doing any good, the mice are smaller and smaller and I’m growing fat and balding.”
        Arona laughed, Mandrake wasn’t near as bad as he said, but to be true, was getting greyer than he used to.

        “Any idea who…”
        “Shht” she urged, rolling her eyes in that subtle way that meant “telepathy only”.

        Any idea who might be after that girl. And who is she anyway?
        Some royalty maybe… We’ll surely find out when we get to her. Eyes on the bounty, Mandrake, eyes on the bounty.
        The cat sighed That castle is creepy, and I say that not in a nice way…
        Yep, this place is funny strange, haven’t quite figured out why, but something feels odd and off. Get people to believe stuff so you can get what you want for everyone seems nice at first, but it doesn’t look like everyone get what they want, even with their petition system. I’m pretty sure it’s rigged and controlled by the P’hope and his magi to protect their Order.
        And what about the King?
        Now the King, he doesn’t seem in control of anything, but he doesn’t look like just an unwilling puppet… He’s afraid of something.
        So, were do we start then?
        As always my dear Mandrake, as always she said mentally, showing the carefully wrapped sabulmantium.

        #3370

        She was stroking the black cat who was complained loudly at the unwanted massage, when the messenger arrived at her door.

        “The King’s Chamberlain would like a word… in private” was all the footman had said.

        “Doesn’t look a slight bit suspicious to you?” the cat told her, shaking and licking the human scent off its fur.
        “Of course it does, don’t come if you don’t want to.” She replied smugly, wrapping her cloak around her despite the sizzling sun and the humidity.

        She followed the messenger, wondering what required such discretion.

        “A weighty matter indeed,” Downson said to her when she arrived at the rendezvous point under a vaulted passageway at a point where the sounds were cancelled out and voices could share deepest secrets in all discretion. “The P’hope has spies in many places… And at least I know of him, so he is not even the most dangerous one, I fear…”

        She was not of many words. Seeing that, the Chamberlain’s continued.
        “There are forces at play that conspire against the King’s rule.”
        She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
        “I know what you think, people should be self-governed, but you can see it another way, people’s leaders are also the expression of their beliefs. But never mind the philosophy… You are uniquely talented for a rescue mission.”
        “What do you mean?”
        “You know have powerful allies… tools,… and dragons too, if the tales are true…”
        She tittered softly. The tales were true, all of it except about the dragons being powerful allies for some rescue quest. Dragons were lazy dreamers, or at least the ones she used to know. She replied with magnanimity “Let’s assume I’m the person you need for this mission… What is my compensation for it… And don’t serve me platitudes about the travel being all that matters. That grumpy cat needs to eat.”
        The cat suddenly turned his eyes into the cutest kitty eyes he could do. It would have melted the heart of the most stone-hearted villain in an instant.
        Well played, Mandrake she winked at the cat telepathically.

        “Well, word has it that you are on a quest to astral, and maybe I could help with that.”
        “Continue…”
        “I could arrange an interview with the Fisher Count. As an entrusted Guardian of the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, he could grant you a drink from it.”
        “Tell me more about whomever I’m supposed to rescue?”

        At the sound of footsteps, he stopped, and pushed her towards a column out of sight.

        “Oh, it’s only a cat” the soldier said, continuing his round unaware of the two.

        As soon as the other had left, Downson resumed his talk in hurried tone and quicker sentences.
        “I have good reasons to believe a young girl with great desire to prove herself was sent many years ago to the Fog Abyss as a rite of passage, but she was tricked and left for dead there. The magi who were supposed to protect her only said they had lost her. But something else happened. Last night, one of them came to me full of guilt. He was visited in a dream by an apparition of the young girl and her guardian angel. Something horrible had happened, but she told him she forgave him and that she was alive and well. You need to bring her back to us, and be discrete about it. Somebody wanted her dead and buried, and will stop at nothing to complete the task if they find out she’s alive.”

        Before the Chamberlain left, he turned back and told her:
        “Better be quick to leave, I shall have all that you require prepared for you. And a word of advise… you can trust no one, Arona.”

        #3369
        AvatarJib
        Participant

          Terry used to arrive early. She was always the first at the bar. She found stability and reassurance in the simple acts of opening the door, turning on the lights, preparing and organizing the tables and the little snacks for the customers.

          That day, after she opened the door, imagining daylight pouring inside, cleansing the darkest corners with the Love of the Universe, she found an envelope on the counter near the cashier. It was sealed with red wax.

          On it was written : “Terry Amar Bubble, from the Management”.
          She felt her heart sank. Her mind went blank, certainly a way for her not to put words on the unthinkable.

          When Cedric arrived later, he found Amar still in a trance, holding an envelop. He’d always been taught not to wake someone who was sleepwalking, but he’d also always had difficulties to not break rules. So he simply did what came first to his mind.

          “Time to Wake up! Bitch!” He said, slapping Amar on the face with a queen’s grace. Cedric felt deeply satisfied with the sound of his slap. He’d been practicing on his own face in front of a mirror when he was younger.

          “I received a letter”, muttered Amar. He handed the envelop over to Consuela.
          “Hey! That’s for me too.” Her pronunciation of the last word hanging around in the air.
          She showed the words to Terry who felt confused because it was now written “Terry Amar Bubble & Consuela Cedric Winnie, from the Management”.
          “Let’s open it”, said Cedric, “I don’t want Maurana’s name on the envelope”. He tittered and broke the seal. It made a popping sound and released a golden powder.

          “Wow, did you see that, Terry ? It’s like fairy dust.”

          The message let them both confused. It simply said : “Your new intendant,Anna Purrna, arrives today. Be ready.”

          #3365
          AvatarJib
          Participant

            The room numbers were framed in a golden disc carved with what looked like zodiac animals and a circle of eights.

            Linda observed the man walking in front of her. As soon as the effects of the lust gas had dissipated, she had been able to focus on something else than his butt. He’d been watching over his shoulder, and it was not to see if she was keeping with his pace. He had been frowning ever since she’d met him, and you could say his whole attitude exuded wariness. Despite her Happiness Training and the meditation practice at night with Sadie, she was beginning to feel some bowel tension. Not good for her digestion.

            He stopped in front of room 57. He knocked, didn’t wait for an answer, instead used his magnetic key to open it, and entered. She followed. He looked one last time on both sides of the corridor, then locked the door.

            They were in a big yellow lounge. Linda addressed a silent prayer to the Good Taste Goddess, sympathizing with the pain She must have endured each time an interior designer had expressed such lack of sobriety. It wasn’t just the color. The furniture seemed to come from Hart to Hart, except the sofa was in a dark yellow leather, and the cushions in a bright magenta.

            “Wait here ‘till I call you”, he said. He left through a door on the right, taking his frown with him.
            Linda heard him talk to someone in the other room, certainly a bedroom. A feminine voice answered him. They argued for some time. The woman was the last to speak. Then the silence.

            Linda hesitated to seat on a jumping armchair with yellow and brown stripes. It was as if every cell of her body, and even the molecules of her clothes were repelled by the choices of the interior designer. She would have sworn her platform shoes were trying to levitate from the carpet.

            The man’s head appeared at the door.
            “Come in, she’s ready to see you.”

            Linda could see emotions struggle on his face.

            “But I warn you”, he said, his fists clenched, “she’s been sick since we have arrived. If my wife is tired, I’ll ask you to leave.”

            “Oh!” Linda said.

            #3362
            AvatarJib
            Participant

              The bellboy, whose name was Kevinlol, as Linda Pol had found out thanks to her e-zapper, had led the Queen of drags to the fifth floor.

              The short trip down with the main elevator had been most interesting. It was designed to look like a richly decorated wooden door opening to the temple of games. The usual mirror on the walls of the cabin had been replaced by a huge screen which showed hosts or hostesses in sumptuous attires welcoming you like Ulysses sirens. Nobody coming out of the elevator, you were fully submerged by promising images of luxury and endless pleasures, endless wins. Looking at the blush on the customers faces and their fidgeting, it seemed to work well.
              The use of Feng Shui seems to have evolved through time, she thought amused, from simple well being philosophy to overt mental and emotional manipulation.

              A particular scent, she had already smelled in Las Vegas, made her realized that there were also chemicals released to create in anticipation that fleeting euphoria people would desperately try to recreate through the excitement of the games. Knowing it, could help you stay centered, but her heartbeat became faster and she felt the compulsion to get more, she realized it was hard to resist the temptation.

              When the doors actually opened to the second floor below earth, more than half the contingent of people got out towards the casino. The sirens were here to drag you down with their smiles. Linda Pol looked at the customers, they were more than willingly sucked into the gaming world of cards and chips, ready to open their pockets and their souls to the conniving croupier.
              Beware of the number you choose, she thought, the bank may not like them.

              A quick look at Kevinlol showed he was totally oblivious to the sirens. His poker face was as smooth and young as ever, his pupils looked normal, and his skin tone hadn’t changed despite the chemicals.
              Robot? She couldn’t help the thought.
              The third floor was restaurants and bars, huge spiraling automatic stairs seemed to connect it directly with the casino, certainly to help people find their way up when they were finished refueling. The dozing effect of digestion was certainly good for business.

              Then they arrived at the fifth floor. She wondered briefly what had happened to the first and fourth floors. But the doors opened to another kind of sirens, her attention shifted completely, more surely than any substance could have done. It was the kind of butts she couldn’t resist, promising firmness and endurance, set into a Imperio Dareme pair of jeans. Linda Pol had always thought that braces had the same effect on a man’s butt as a wonderbra on a woman’s breast. She blushed like a young girl discovering boys were interested in her mythical virginity.

              The butt turned around and, mother f*ck*r, the face was gorgeous. Two days beard on a square jaw, the adventurer.

              #3356

              When he arrived at the office, it seemed empty at first. It was late, people usually left at around 6PM, and at 7, it looked like the last one to go home had forgotten to turn all the lights off.
              That’s when he arrived at his boss’ office which was the only one without any lights on, that he realized his boss was still there.

              “Oh, Sir, I didn’t realize you were still here, in the dark.”
              “In the shadows.” corrected Leon Fat Ngoi, a short portly man in his early fifties although he appeared younger.

              Cheung Lok realized there was a double message here, and caught his boss’ meaning. In the Corporation, you were expected to know your boss’ intention with the subtlest of indications. Cheung Lok was the one in the dark, but somehow felt his boss knew more, although he wouldn’t tell without being asked. The three words he’d said were the closest he’d get as an invitation.

              “Sir, we found this map, and I believe our target went into hiding there. But…”
              “Indeed. We know this island. It was purposely chosen to elude us. As you know the People’s Government has laid claims upon various lands and islands over the years, and have believed this particular island to be part of it.”
              “So it shouldn’t be difficult to get there and extradite them?”
              “You’re missing the point, son. The reason why our Government’s leaders in their immense wisdom claimed this peace of land is because it is documented to have appeared near the coast of China around a series of years —year 999 in particular.”
              Cheung Lok pondered, no wonder they liked the idea, saying 999 was like saying forever in Chinese “What do you mean appeared?”
              “This island is appearing and disappearing, only to reappear at certain points of time, and always in different places. Owning this island would have provided our Leaders with great tactical advantage…”
              Cheung Lok didn’t know how to interpret the silence.
              Fat Ngoi continued “I’ve arranged for a flight for you and a small squad to be parachuted over it. You may not see it before you land.”
              Cheung Lok took the last sentence as a cue to leave, and bowed out, moving towards the door.
              Fat Ngoi exhaled loudly and before Cheung Lok left, added ominously “You better get prepared for anything, even if you get the robot, you may never get away of the place before the next hundred years or so…”

              #3344

              Fanella took Sanso’s advice and sobbed heartily. It released vast misty clouds of yellow and green energy that she had been bottling up during the recent traumatic experiences with teleporting. The coloured mist filled the room and poured out of the open window, tinting the sea mist pea green and bile yellow. Fanella was still hiccuping and blowing her nose when Sanso arrived, displacing the yellow green mist with a gust of orange red, and a foul odour.
              “Excuse me for a moment dear” he gasped, doubled over clutching his abdomen. “One can only cloak a signal for so long before it goes into spasm.”
              Fanella forgot her crying bout at the sight of Sanso on the floor imitating a sagging cow, but was glad she had a tissue handy to cover her nose with when the room suddenly filled with noxious orange gas, expelled with a trumpeting sound equal to the horns of Gabriel.
              AHHHHH” he said, smiling broadly. “I think we should get out of here now.”
              “Yes, let’s!” replied Fanella, trying not to choke.
              “What a relief! I wasn’t feeling my usual self, trying to digest that signal. Now I feel back to my usual stalwart and trustworthy self.”
              “Thank Flove for that!” responded Fanella, also feeling very much better, and ready for the next adventure.

              #3330

              With the aid of the holographic map, Irina, Mr R and little Greenie have been exploring the island.
              The next day they found a crashed plane from Aeroflot, not very far from their own landing spot. It was half burried in the mud and covered in green mossy vegetation. The doors were open as an irresistible invitation to enter.

              “A surprise, Mr R. I thought that this place was on your map. If I remember well, it didn’t show such an object.”
              “Forgive me, madam, indeed this plane wasn’t there when I triangulated the map I showed you.”
              “You mean it’s fresh ?” Irina’s voice seemed to suddenly carry some interest. “Maybe we can find some survivors”, she added, already doubting it considering all the moss on teh metallic shell.
              “I’m afraid we won’t, madam. I didn’t want to bother you with that little detail until I was sure. There are objects on this island that only appear after a certain date. Have you noticed it also happens with the vegetation and the insects ?”
              Irina pouted, “I prefer leaving that to your expertise.”
              “Of course, madam”, said the robot, affable. “The paradox is…”
              “Another paradox ? How interesting.”
              “…that it doesn’t seem to include us, or that little person.”
              “Any idea what the implications are ?” Irina began to wonder if there was any danger of being stuck permanently on this island.
              “I have several hypothesis”, he began, “The most probable is the lost room hypothesis. We arrived there through time space displacement and are not a natural part of this environment, hence we don’t change with its natural environment or inhabitants because we are not under it’s time sequence according to the Lehmon’s law.”

              Irina pouted. She looked at little greenie and thought of the implications about how their new friend arrived there. Whenre did she come from ? For her to be a bog mummy, she must have been there a long time. Or did she arrived already bogged ?
              Something caught her attention about the plane and distracted her of further thinking about the subject of their continuity risk in this place. The logo of the plane looked not so oldish.
              “Mr R. ? What do you think the date of the crash was ?”
              “The plane was lost in 2112.”

              Without further thought about safety, she entered the plane, followed first by little Greenie as she have been calling her new protegee, and by the robot who despite still talking about technicalities of accidental space time crossing theory, had turned on his speleo lights.

              Interestingly enough, Irina noted the clothes on the chairs or in the alleyways, here a pair of glasses, there a necklace, all layered as if the person wearing them had been puffed away.

              “Well, well, what have we here ? The light Mr R, please,” said Irina with as much excitement as a snail. He obliged her with his usual professionalism, revealing a teal blue scarf with pistachio green spirals. She took the cloth and stretched it to have a better look. It was one of those artistic kind of hippy abstract patterns connecting you to the cosmos.
              “I can’t think of anybody who would buy that thing, maybe she stole it from one of those duty free shops before they took off,” she said as petulantly as a pitfall trap.
              “Come here little Greenie, it’s time to make you pretty.”

              Irina did not have the chance to play with dolls when she was a kid, she didn’t know if she had some psychological lack or a bad doyle dating from that unremembered period of her life. She had compensated by toying with real people, playing with their emotions and deeper needs, or what they thought they needed. She became an expert at manipulating others, which gave her her first job in insurances, and then in the secret services. But then, she dealt with adults, showing emotions, or a certain level of brain activity. She wasn’t used to children stored in bogs.

              She tried to put the scarf on Greenie’s head, and to smile like she had seen people do in the movies. Although something unexpected happened. Greenie became suddenly distressed and agitated. Then, she punched Irina in the face and began to mumble incoherent things.
              That child is stronger than I thought. And at the same time, she noticed a name in that gibberish. Didnt she just shout : “I frigging love you, Sadie Merrie.”

              “Her brainwave is showing unusual activity”, stated Mr R. “And my sensors indicate the presence has returned, with some friends. They just appeared outside of the plane.”

              #3327

              Cheung Lok gave a look at the arched back massaging his feet. There was nothing enjoyable about it, he thought, unlike what many of his friends who loved a good foot massage said about it.
              It was hurting like being trampled by a million wild rhinos, and the release of pain was even painful enough to not be enjoyable.
              He had no choice, it was part of the social acts expected from him, and in that precise moment also a cover to get some particular piece of information.

              An ugly person wearing outrageous make-up arrived on the seat next to him, making it crack like a pack of cheap matches, the arms of the chair protruding in the middle of the enormous waist.
              Without a word spoken, he received the key, and was thankful that he didn’t need to stay longer.

              He paid the boss with some cash, and left silently in the turmoil of the city.
              He signalled the driver he’d walk to the office. Another peculiarity, as usually officials with his rank would never walk unless under extreme necessity, which was the same as saying never. But he enjoyed walking in the Chinese parts of the city, there were all sorts of smells and activity, it was never dull.

              He had too laugh at the insane number of beauty parlours and salons. For all he could tell, either there weren’t enough of them, or they weren’t doing a good job.
              For once, it had little to do with the robots replacing human attendants; massage and beauty parlours had been the most resistant to change, and for now, most still employed human personnel. That meant, there was still a large market share escaping the Corporation, and the prototype that Irina stole was supposed to change all that. He had to retrieve it by all means.

              #3312
              EricEric
              Keymaster

                “Madam, I have found something…” Mr R was pointing at a large floating piece of moss in the middle of the bog where they had landed a few days ago.
                “At last,… some excitement, whoo…” said Irina with a deadpan expression that left no doubt as to her current level of excitement.

                There weren’t many clues as to where and when they’d arrived, but she already hated it.
                The bog for one, wasn’t her idea of a great retirement place. Of course, there were probably other places to explore on the island, it wasn’t as if she’d stay here permanently, but for now, if the bog was a nexus point of teleporting, she’d rather stay around, in case others would come from there. That was one of the first thing you learnt during the Training, to secure your entry points. You’d never know what to expect, teleporting whales were probably the least dangerous of the things that could get stranded here. And judging by the amount of strange objects littering the area, she and her robot weren’t the first thing to have been discarded here.

                She’d tasked Mr R, in his immense resourcefulness, to build her a proper watchtower, or just for now, a downsized version of what she’d felt would be a decent one.
                A proof of the robot’s talent was that with barely nothing, he’d managed in the past days to bulldoze a clearing in a less wet portion of the land. There, the light’s plays were purely gorgeous, creating the smallest ripples and endless reflections on the green tinges of the water —something Irina could observe with wonder for hours. Mr R had also managed to cook her a rather lovely braised water rat, with fresh peppermint and lotus roots caramelized in wild bees’ honey.
                He’d already built the foundations of a anthill-sized promontory, with a clean deck where she could rest on a surprinsingly comfortable deckchair made of driftwood and pieces of whatnots gathered around the place. That was were she was enjoying the last minutes of sun for the day, just about when he’d asked her to check on his discovery. It probably was important enough for the robot to disrupt her digestive meditation.

                “Well, well… What have we got here…”
                “It looks like a person, Madam… Female, around 28, judging by her bone structure. Her vitals are subtly low, but it seems she is alive…” the robot said after a careful scanning.
                “Alive? With that color ?” Irina was quite perplexed and slightly amused too.
                She wouldn’t mind some company and probably some intel on the island. Besides, there was a side of her that liked to nurse back to life those poor little wounded creatures. The girl would be her first greenish one…

                “Take her to our place, Mr R” she ordered the robot. “We will soon need double ration of your delicious water rat stew, Mr R”.

                #3307

                Sanso was tied securely on a Louis XVI chair, inside an ornate room kept mostly in the dark by heavy embroidered curtains that smelt of celery.
                He was craving for a tomato juice to go with the smell, and could hardly focus on an empty stomach.

                He could have easily escaped from his predicament, but he was curious about his captors, and the reason why they had him abducted after he went back to his little love nest in the R&R B&B where he’d hoped to meet again the mysterious Lady Cucumber. That was his name for her.
                He was hopeless with names, and although he was sure he had heard hers before, he preferred to remember people by associations. With Irina, that was Cucumbers. There! he thought, another proof of the brilliance of this method, as I remembered her name… Iris? Eyrin?, well, Lady Cucumber.
                He’d made love to many a lady in his life, a lady in Salmon, even a Lady Mermaid, a Lady Gingerale, a Lady Panty, a ladyboy even. He could go on for hours thinking about them, but the lady Cucumber had spun a spell around his head it seemed.

                After his last mission on a rescue with Miss Bob and her Sponges Squarepanties team, he’d run back for the 2222 B&B.
                No sooner had he arrived that heaven and hell broke loose and things went to rules and “do that or else”‘s, all things he abhorred with a passion. The links, and keys for his chains, that he could suffer, so he focused on it for awhile.

                He was woken up by a splash of ice cold water on his pants and a raucous voice in his face. Better that than the reverse, he chuckled to himself.

                “Something funny now? Tell us, where did she go?”

                He knew better than to feign ignorance, so he preferred to feign knowledge, which he’d found usually worked miracles.

                “Of course. She stole something from you…”
                “Damn right, she steal it, and we want back it.”

                The accent was difficult to place, he’d known so many inter-dimensional dialects that sometimes it was hard for him to remember.
                He would have said some northern Chinese dialect accent, with a bit of kiwi.

                He needed to know a bit more before disappearing. His curiosity was aroused by the implication that what she stole was certainly valuable. What could it be, a revolutionary hairsplitter, a butt-fluffer, a fringe freckler, ah! his head was teaming with great possibilities it was making him dizzy.

                “Don’t be silly Mister Sanso, she steal it robot very precious and advance technology.”
                and before he could reply:
                “Yes we read your mind, I confirm… You have silly thinks Mr Sanso.”

                He was starting to think now was a good time to get lost, and started to confuse their mindreader with energy patterns otherwise called gibberish thoughts.

                The chains and ropes gave way easily.
                His next move was to phase out of the room, but instead he managed to fall on his butt, in the middle of mocking looking Chinese in tuxedos and purple bow ties.

                “Ah, I see, you have some antiportation technology…” Sanso was a fair player. The temptation was big to run for another exit, if only for the exhilaration of a chase in the corridors of that strange place, but his stomach was thinking otherwise.

                “I see you are vely fond of kewcomber, we are no animawls, we will give you delishius kewcomber.”

                Minutes after, he was thrown with a certain form of Chinese ceremony in a small cubic windowless room. On a table next to the door, was his meal apparently.

                He recoiled in horror when he opened the lid covering his plate. The strong odour of garlic pricked his nose.
                “No way! Fucking jokers!”
                That was even worse than to eat boiled cucumber chunks in spicy sauce.
                Swimming in soy sauce were slices of chewy sea cucumbers that looked more like fat juicy leeches from a filthy bog.

                He ate reluctantly, arguing with his stomach about the benefits of the collagen in said sea cucumbers, and at the same time realized the Chinese mobsters were probably from the Chinese Robot Incorporated Mission Eternal, a renowned corporation that had managed to free countless people from menial jobs thanks to prodigious advances in robotics.
                The Lady Cucumber was suddenly more than a mysterious beauty, she was also a mysterious wanted beauty, and he couldn’t wait to… But he had to guard his thoughts for now.

                He looked at the bamboo chopsticks with a sly smile. He had not said his last word, and the person who could boast of having Sanso detained was not born yet.

                #3306
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  Irina started to smell foul play when she arrived at the coordinates indicated in the last of the laconic messages sent to her by the Management.

                  “Are you sure you got the coordinates right Mr R?”
                  “Very much so Madam, but if you will allow me, I will double check to alleviate the hint of doubt I perceive in your most suave voice.”
                  “Yes, do that please.”

                  When becoming anxious, Irina tended to get prone to bossiness, and didn’t like what she heard in her voice.

                  “I adore this door.”
                  Yes, that was much better with suave undertones, with a hint of foreign raspy accent to spice it up.

                  In truth, the door was plain, wooden, with a number painted on it, half erased, and a series of symbols which, although she could not place them, raised a distant alarm in her mind.
                  “Rainbow magic?…” That was how they renamed the lore of black magic when it was privatized and re-marketed to the masses. She had not seen rainbow magic in ages, and there was no way that door would lead to an actual island without moving her out of this time and space.

                  “Bloody buggers. Should have read those cryptic fine prints more carefully.”

                  She realized there was a good chance her promised island was in a godforsaken place lost in time. She could count herself lucky if the deserted island was not in the palaeolithic and raided by dangerous dinosaurs…

                  There was little choice. Either boldly embrace the great unknown behind the door, and trust her luck, or stay behind, short of the island of her dreams and probably condemned to run from the Management’s evil plans anyway.
                  At least, with option one, the lottery could be favourable.
                  That was what you got for dabbling in sketchy and questionable shots.

                  “Mr R, are you ready?”
                  “Always, Madam.”

                  She felt lucky and pressed the door.

                  #3295

                  “Wait, wait!”
                  When Jonbert in his crab suit arrived on the spot, most of the life had deserted the place to go for a half-brain peaceful sleep, except a few remaining inebriated whales making some more ambergris gyrating around the fading crystal. At times, the hologram could still be faintly perceived.

                  “It’s so unfair, I’ve invested so much in this quest to see it fail now and have other reap the reward! I have a question, answer me!”

                  The St Germain hologram seemed roused by the word question, if not by the emotional request.

                  “A question… Mmm, sounds tempting, I didn’t really get a good question in ages, not to be rude with the previous ones, but well…” he shrugged.
                  “Alright, alright, a few questions but be quick with it, I’m nearly done packing my data to transcend to Peasland.”

                  Despite the draw to ask more about Peasland, Jonbert was steadfast in his resolve and asked the question that had been on mind rehearsed many a time, hopeful for a mind-blowing answer.

                  “Life everlasting is at hand; all I need is to refine enough gold to go through time…”
                  “Oh, or simply a bit of gugleshopping would do”
                  “What?”
                  “Nevermind, must be a data interference”
                  “How do I manage that? Can you teach me transmutation?”
                  “Well, sure I can, it probably would help, actually I just did it again right here about half an hour ago.”
                  “Where is the gold? Where is it?”
                  “It’s in the heart, that’s where true transmutation works. Maybe you should listen to some music, I hear a hit song is on its way.”

                  Jonbert had the vague feeling he was being mocked, if not by Saint Germain, by fate or worse, his own attempts at a futile quest.

                  “But seriously, endings are not so bad you know” the hologram went on “sometimes some experiences are like being trapped in a crystal. I was trapped in a crystal, in a previous life, a long time ago you know… But I digress… You see, new life sparks new creativity. I suggest you make peace with your life and go on with the rest of it, otherwise you’ll find out you have missed it completely. No amount of fountain of youth is going to make you feel better, not in this state. But the reverse is true, the more you will enjoy and inhabit your present, the longer you will live, without even ageing.”

                  It surely wasn’t an answer he was expecting. Nobody would have dared give him such answer.

                  “Take it as you are not dead yet, this capacity to be surprised is a great feeling… Now I must bid you farewell my friend. You had indeed some great questions…”

                  “Wait!” the unexpected words had stirred him somehow and Jonbert had a sudden idea “Tell me a bit more about this Peasland place,… are they in need of a person in a place of authority? Can I come along?”

                  “I don’t see why not. Let me recalibrate that crystal, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

                  And with a flash of light, the hologram and the crab-man disappeared to the relief of Belen who was monitoring the scene with interest mixed with concern.

                  “That was unexpected. And bloody hell, I’m dead. Those humans know nothing.
                  Well, look at the Now, it’s high time I go back to Peter, he and the kids must be worried green sick…”

                  #3293

                  The whales’ dance on the dark bluish background lit by the tiniest reflection on floating seahorses and other sea creatures, made the scenery look like an eerie night skyline, full of moving stars.
                  The added feeling of weightlessness was empowering, and soon, the three queens passed side glances, barely interested by the words of wisdom of the hologram, and catching each other’s mind, almost asked their question at the same time.

                  Terry was the quickest this time, “Please, please, can you do a rendition of the Name Game with your disco ball lights, we’re all dying to do a dance! Please?”

                  Interestingly, the Hologram didn’t show any hesitation as it started to sing, and the three queens were all glowing as they adjusted their wigs, fins and other appendages.

                  The Name Game
                  Terry!
                  Terry, Terry bo Berry Bonana fanna fo Ferry
                  Fee fy mo Merry, Terry!
                  Sadie! Sadie, Sadie bo Badie Bonana fanna fo Fadie
                  Fee fy mo Madie, Sadie!
                  Come on everybody!
                  I say now let’s play a game
                  I betcha I can make a rhyme
                  Out of anybody’s name …

                  The lights were on, and the dresses glittered, Terry in the spur of the moment added kelp extensions to her wig to match the sardine tones of her suit, while Sadie’s only concession to fashion was a little glowing golden jellyfish that seemed to match her bob cut, and made for a funny pulsating hat.

                  Adamus was on, and unstoppable

                  The first letter of the name,
                  I treat it like it wasn’t there
                  But a B or an F, or an M will appear
                  And then I say Bo add a B
                  Then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo
                  And then I say the name again
                  With an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo
                  And then I say the name again
                  With an M this time
                  And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme.

                  A chorus of dolphins tried to join, having Consuela burst hysterically into peals of unstoppable laughter.

                  Consuela!
                  Consuela, Consuela bo Bonsuela Bonana fanna fo Fonsuela
                  Fee fy mo Monsuela, Consuela!
                  But if the first two letters are ever the same,
                  I drop them both and say the name
                  Like Bob, Bob drop the Bs Bo ob
                  For Fred, Fred drop the Fs Fo red
                  For Mary, Mary drop the Ms Mo ary
                  That’s the only rule that is contrary.

                  Maurana was shaking her head in seducing moves, pretending not to die of envy of the others, and expecting her turn.
                  And the music went on…

                  Okay? Now say Bo: Bo
                  Now Belen without a B: Elen
                  Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo
                  Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Felen
                  Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo !
                  Then you say the name again with an M this time: Melen
                  And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme
                  Maurana! Maurana, Maurana bo Baurana Bonana fanna fo Faurana
                  Fee fy mo Aurana, Maurana!

                  And they continued with all sorts of names for quite a while, even some of the whales’ and dolphins’ who were obviously enjoying the interlude.

                  :fleuron:

                  “Did you get all that on video?” Maurana asked Sadie.
                  “Of course I did, the ezapper got it all. Linda Paul and the network won’t believe their eyes, it’s some heavy material! Even better than gold bars!” Sadie could barely believe what had just happened.

                  The whales seemed to have been so thrilled that after a moment of silence, a smaller one broke off the cycle, went to the huge crystal and took a heart shaped shard of it to offer them.

                  “I guess that’s their way of burning a DVD, what do you think?” Consuela was blissfully hopeless with technology, but could also have some moments of brilliance.

                  “We should go now” Sadie said looking up from the ezapper “it looks like some unidentified giant blue crab is coming at us, and we better let the whales handle it.”

                  “Are we going through that awful sewer again?” Maurana was starting to get green at the idea.

                  “I don’t think so, I had Sanso pick us up at the underwater cave thanks to Consuela surprise reconnaissance mission. He just arrived and he just texted me his location. It’s not far from here. He seems to have managed to herd a few octopi to carry us across. Always surprisingly resourceful this one, I might start to like him…”
                  Snapping from her emotions, she continued
                  “Time to say your adieus to 2222 ladies. Tonight, everyone’s a winner. We’re going to be famous.”

                  #3283

                  When Huhu arrived at his destination, Irina was sunbathing to the last rays of a big red gorgeous sunset that painted the waves in iridescent shades of purple.
                  At the same time, the sun’s course had already started a new day on the shores of New Zealand, where her sister was living, and she surely would be thrilled. Long had she waited for the 2222-2-22 marker.
                  Here, in Hawaii, they would still be in 2222-2-21, for a few more hours.
                  Irina started to shiver. 22°C her watch read. As if she needed to be any more quirky about this date…

                  “Good boy!” she said to the parrot, taking the key it was carrying. Huhu tittered in contentment, cracking some of the pistachios she fed him distractedly.

                  She’d just received additional information from the Management. Elusive as usual, and leaving a great deal to interpretation, including the interdiction.

                  They’d promised to get her her dream island as a retirement plan. Some said it was the original land of the mermaids (who used to have as much feathers as Rio Carnival’s samba dancers), right off Italy’s Amalfi’s coast. Among its perks, it boasted to incorporate 8 staff, and a private grotto — that, if anything else than her fine waist line, would surely entice Sanso into other steamy booty calls.
                  She’d seen the pictures of the properties, her first thought though was that she needed to shoot the interior decorator. In short, it was almost her moral duty to get it, and change the decor. On the whole, she was convinced the island would do her good.

                  So, when she looked back at the previous instructions to see how good she’d done on her mission’s objectives, she shrugged a little. She’d understood instinctively right when it was delivered that it was a clever cipher, especially given the late date shift. So she had reinterpreted the actual commands, and leisurely waited for the travellers to appear, and get comfy. By now, she was certain they trusted her telepathic commands well enough, so that solved the trust conundrum.
                  Basically, she was a major proponent of her own interpretation of old Ho’oponopono rituals. Instead of the usual mantra “I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.” hers was a bit more straightforward and was around the lines of “Green sickness to you. Peace be with you, and bugger off.
                  Said a few times with proper intonation and inner work, and it was know to her to alter dramatically any block or resistance into a great flow of pure unfettered energy. So she had adamant faith that all she needed to do to complete her mission was to focus on herself and solve the resistance within by letting go.

                  The last message was short.

                  22 the code * whale that * BO

                  It could only mean one thing. 22 was a clever cipher meaning conundrum as in a catch 22, but also an obvious reference to the temperature. So it could only mean one thing: tamper with the code on the 22nd, and send it on the way to the whales, with a bug on it.

                  “Mr R, please, fetch!”

                  The discrete, yet always present robot caught the key with grace, and on her careful instructions, proceeded to alter the code of the key.

                  Irina was enjoying herself immensely, and found it a pity nobody could witness her true genius. “The ones who’ll read that key later, well… they are in for such a wild goose chase!”
                  The second part of St Germain’s encoded hologram was now ripe with wonderful and bewildering information about blubbits and the magic kingdom of Peasland with obscure and arcane references of magic numbers like 57, that would have anybody sane turn mad as a hatter in no time. Hopefully the whales would be immune to the nonsense, but probably not humans.

                  Now was the final part of the plan.

                  “Mr R?”
                  “Madam?”
                  “I hope you are ready for this delicate reinsertion mission. Do you still have that octopus suit of yours ready?”
                  “Of course, Madam. Right away Madam.”

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