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  • #3475

    Even two weeks after the escape, she still woke up in cold sweats, haunted by nightmares of being chased down narrow lanes, or driving a vehicle that would only go at a snail’s pace as soon as she tried to drive it.

    “Are you alright, dear?”

    The comforting presence of Robert helped sooth her. He brought her a tray with some lemon and cucumber water, knowing it would help with her sore throat. The artificial air of the Mars colony tended to do that.

    “Thank you Robert,… but you shouldn’t have. You’re not a robot any longer.”

    She still couldn’t believe what had happened. Maybe that was the gift of retirement the Management had in store for her all alone. Unexpected gifts, unexpected islands of solitude —even at the closest to Earth in months, Mars was still 122 million miles from her Russian homeland.

    It was still night outside. There, the days were slightly longer than Earth’s by half an hour or so, but she’d adapted to it rather quickly. It was still much better than the torpor on the island where she would loop on her days sometimes without even noticing it.

    “Anything I can do for you dear?” Robert looked appropriately sorry for her, not too much to seem condescending, not to little to seem not caring.

    “Put on some light music will you. The one from Beethoven that puts me in a meditative relaxation…”

    When the deep notes started in the background, she started to relax. Her throat felt fresh and her lungs appreciative of the oxygen produced by the greenhouse plants.
    Although she resisted slightly, inexorably she felt drawn to revisit the memories of the last day on Abalone.

    It always started with the labyrinth, and finding herself alone.

    :fleuron:

    “Mr R? Mr R?” she called. “Gweenie?”

    The labyrinth looked strangely like the laboratory white walls of the Chinese Robot Incorporated Mission Eternal where she used to work as an intern first, then as a head of research for cybernetics advancements. She was quite brilliant for her age, and the prospect of bringing a golden age to mankind was, at the time, quite appealing to her young exalted mind.

    She knew where to go. She had to relive again that day where she’d thrown away all of that for a life in hiding. The mysterious benevolent messages of the Management had started a few weeks prior, leading her to question the motives of her employer, and realizing she’d become quite attached to her creation. The prototype robot from Project R had shown never seen before reactions to stimuli, and a learning curve that was exponential. “R” was meant as Retirement: retirement of the last class of labor workers, of those delicate works that still required a human touch.
    The Management had led her to uncover that under the Corporation’s vision, the prototype would lead humanity to its doom, becoming irrelevant, a flaw in the perfect design of profit they were looking for. So she’d taken the robot, and made a run for it.
    She wouldn’t destroy it. And it seemed the Management had no intention of her to do so. With the Management’s invisible hand, she’d disguised Mr R as a common robot for elites, and led a life posing as an elite with a secret life of a for-hire spy, heist-mastermind, or ghost executioner of similarly exciting prospects.

    So there she was again. The walls stretching to infinity in an endless stream of rooms nested one into the other, the fear of being caught creeping closer and closer.

    “Stop that. Breathe.” she told herself. She was no longer that young innocent scientist. As soon as her fear dissipated, the rooms stream stopped, and everything was back to focus. She walked to the room she remembered clear as day. Mr R was there, still plugged to the mainframe, with a strange black doctor in a white surgical gown and blue mask she didn’t remember was there.

    “Interesting situation you have here.” he greeted her, snapping his gloves to extend his hand to her. “You can call me René, I’m Tahitian.”

    She could feel her lucidity fluctuating and ready to explode in a multiplicity of scenarios, but managed to maintain her focus. She refrained to punch the guy in the face too, and simply took his extended hand with caution.

    “Congratulation.” he said, beaming. “You passed the test.”

    All of a sudden, she was no longer in the same room. She was in the comfortable B&B of 2222. René was in a sofa, comfortably seated, and they were sharing a drink.

    “What have you done with Mr R?” was her first thought.

    “Oh, nothing to worry about, I borrowed it for a while, there is someone else that needed passing through my maze, and he kindly obliged to help. I will show you in a minute. We had a little conversation earlier on, while you were stranded in your past.”
    “How long was I out?” she asked.
    “Oh, time is inconsequential here, but in your terms, a day or two.”
    “Didn’t seem that long…” she mused. “Where have you done with the others?”
    “Don’t worry about them, they are on their own path. Only one should concern you now. A certain Chinese and very persistent man.”
    “Oh, fuck.” was all she said. “I should have guessed, you’re with the Corporation.”
    “Not at all my dear, you can relax. So as I said, we had a little conversation, and you can be proud of you. This robot has broken through, congratulations. You can be very proud of your work.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He has developed a personality and a consciousness of its own. It’s still budding, but it’s very strong, and he’s quite concerned over your well-being I might add.” he said with a wink.

    Irina was perplexed at the thought, but although it made some sense at a level, her conscious brain was struggling with the implications.

    “Show me what you have to, and release us.” she said to René, getting up from the hypnotizing warmth of the sofa.

    “In a minute” he’d say, “just have a look at the screen, will you.”

    Then, she’d understood. The guy pursuing her, Cheung Lok was there, trapped in his own labyrinth, trying to catch the robot that always eluded him.

    “He would rather die than let the robot go.” she said to René “we could be here for a while”.
    “Not to worry ma chère, his timing has no impact on ours. All of this happens in the now.”
    “So how this plays out usually?”
    “It depends. In this case, all that matters is what happens when he gets the robot.”
    STOP THAT! You can’t let him take it!”
    “Calm down, the robot will be safe.”

    In the next scene, Cheung Lok was securing the robot, who was pleading with him. “Please! I don’t want to become a hairdresser, let go of me!”
    The appeal seemed to have struck a chord, and some memories of Cheung Lok flashed through the screen, and it looked like as if the robot’s struggle mirrored his own to be his own man, free from the expectations of demanding parents, society, Corporation… Their love had been nothing but control, and had put him in chains. He sobbed, wishing for a new life free of these responsibilities.

    :fleuron:

    Irina awoke from the dream again. The last memories were a bit blurry, but still fresh in her mind. René had granted Cheung Lok’s wish. He was sent back to the Island, losing some years in the process, becoming back again a young adult full of unfulfilled desires, and no memory of his previous mission. Before the process happened, he wished for those who were still alive of his platoon to be given the choice to be sent back home with only memories of the robot and himself being destroyed, or to join him on the island, with a fresh future and memories. Surprisingly, most of them chose the first option. Not everyone was ready for a brave choice of facing one’s own desires and power.

    As for her, René had been kind to offer Mr R a humanoid body before sending them through the teleportation boxes to the destination of their choices.
    Mr R had chosen Роберт (Robert) as a name for his new self (she’d been more than relieved he’d avoided René), and they’d agreed to let the boxes find the most beneficial location for them to go to. That’s how they landed in the middle of the central greenhouse of the main colony, in 2121.

    It was fifteen days ago, but still felt like yesterday.

    #3472

    Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of white knuckle hair raising maniac mandarin maneuvers with no respite, not for even a second, the Lazuli duck landed on the beach at the innermost coastline of the Bay and shapeshifted back into his usual human form. As soon as Lisa could straighten out her fingers, seized into a gripping feathers position, she punched Lazuli right in the middle of his joined up long black eyebrow. Then she howled in pain as her tense knuckles met the hard bone of his forehead.
    “You fucking asshole! You jackass show off useless twat!”
    Lazuli looked mildly surprised and asked, “That wasn’t fun?”
    “Flun!! Flinking flool, flu flipped Flanella floff, and flow flea flost fleur!” Lisa was distraught, and with the additional feelings of outrage (feelings are meant to be fleeting, but this one was sticking around) at Lazuli’s reaction, was having difficulty forming words. “I flope flu flan flive with florself, flu fuckflit!!”
    In exasperation Lisa howled, beating her fists upon Lazuli’s chest, then she collapsed to her knees, weeping.
    The intensity of emotion she was projecting attracted Mirabelle and Igor, who made a spontaneous maneuver mid teleport which landed them on the sand beside Lisa.
    Mirabelle retched violently upon landing, while Igor stumbled in haste to evacuate his bowels behind a mangrove tree, both of them giddy and sickened by the abrupt change in direction and the gut wrenching intensity of the situation.
    The unexpected arrivals arrested Lisa’s sobbing mid flow. “Fliraflelle!” she exclaimed, and then added in increasing agitation, “ Oh, for flucks flake! Fly fan’t I fleak flopperly!”
    “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up for five minutes until you’ve calmed down, Lisa” Sanso suggested calmly.
    Lisa took a deep breath and let it out with a full body shudder. “Oh Flanso…”

    “Shhhhh,” he replied gently, “Shhhhh.”

    #3469

    Fanella was riding her new zebra friend in a big dry meadow. Something she had never seen before. There were other animals with them and it was delightful. The flight of the cranes transported her up to the clouds while the crocodiles would clap in unison in the marshes.
    The zebra had told her his name. Rene he was, and glad he’d met her before it was too late. He also said something that she didn’t quite understand. “Other friends are coming, you don’t have to worry.” Why worry when she was with Rene ? Other friends ? Lisa was coming back for her with Sanso ? “We’ll meet soon”, said Rene. Now she was having hallucinations. He was a tall man, half an ebony skin, half white and black zebra stripes. But he was already fading away.
    The return back to reality was harsh. She gagged and disgorged sea water on the beach. It felt as if she had been torn inside out.

    “There, there. Welcome back young Miss. You’re safe, now”, said a man. He was wearing a smile but she felt it was just a facade.
    “Are you okay ?” she asked. Even in the midst of drowning, her maternal instinct was stronger. Surprised showed up on the man’s face.
    “What do you mean ?”
    “You’re all yellow.”
    The man laughed. “I’m quite normal, young lady. Quite normal.” He put his jacket on her shoulders to help keep her warmth as social rules demanded. It was relatively dry, whereas he was drenched. He must have took it off before rescuing her from the sea.

    “We should have left her to the barracudas”, said another man. He wore a blue turban, casting a shadow on an already hard face. It was marked by a circular fresh scar around his nose, made by countless small sharp teeth. The flesh seemed to pulsate painfully. She shuddered when she saw his hook-leg, the hook half burried in the sand. She didn’t want to imagine what he could do with it.

    “Don’t pay attention to Berberus”, said the first man, “We have no business in hurting young beautiful ladies.”
    Something in his smile told her that it wasn’t always true. She forced herself a gracious face, as she had learned to do with the noble men back then in Versailles.
    “Thank you for rescuing me, Sir.” She pulled on the edges of the jacket as if she needed warmth. “My name is Fanetta”, she added, lowering her eyes.

    #3468

    “Fucking hell, THAT is monsoon…” a drenched Cheung Lok said to his unlikely traveling companion.
    It was days they were travelling through the bogs, following an ancient trail of signposts that the hook-legged man seemed to know about.
    The both of them were soaked to the marrow, and every step in the bog became perilous, as with each inch of raising water, there was no telling which hole in the landscape hid a shallow puddle or a deep trench.

    Cheung Lok felt like being back in China, during the rainy season, with the strange and absurd impression that having evoked the notion in the first place was the only explanation for the sudden change of weather. At least that was what the other had explained him, only succeeding in amplifying the event he meant to dissipate.

    How not to focus on rain, when rain is all there is. I bet a hygrometer would tell it’s 100% humid now…

    As soon as the thought was entertained, sure enough there was a funny-shaped hygrometer hanging by a small tree of the mangrove, telling exactly that. 100%

    – “倒霉!” Cheung Lok swore loudly, then got even more enraged when he noticed the Chinese swear word for shit happens “out of luck” meant “mouldy” and was written with the ‘rain’ 雨 radical.

    “You know what you need, a good old tiger slug to suck on your feet, pal. That’s a way to snap out of it.”

    “Well, thanks, but I’ll pass”, snickered Cheung Lok, wondering what flood gates would open if he started to peek into his repressed but genuine desires.

    #3459
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The Zebra

      “The zebra’s gifts include seeing in black and white, clarity without filters, balance, agility, uniqueness, power, sureness of path, keeping up individuality within the herd.

      Questioning reality and illusion is common amongst people with zebra medicine, though an over analytic intellect can be a hindrance for some with this totem. In others the imagination must be awakened.

      The zebras pattern of black on white, or white on black implies that what you see is not always what you get. Occult knowledge seen and unseen, dimensional shifts, new journeys and worldly endeavours are all aspects of this.

      Zebras are master magicians, who utilise the energy of light and dark to shift realities and expand our consciousness, helping us see past our preconceived beliefs as they lead us into the mystery and magic of the unseen. Zebras seek balance in what they do, and they are sure of themselves, standing confidently in the middle of opposing forces. Those with this power animal are taught similar skills.

      When the zebra comes into your life, change is signified in one or more areas of your life and hidden knowledge will be uncovered. Stand strong, develop trust and simply flow with the rhythm of a new creation. “

      The Zebra

      #3457
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The Zebra
        “Zebra energy will help you to take the apparently conflicting parts of your personality and weave them into a pattern which is unique, distinctive and beautiful. As a zebra, the artist within you can live in harmony with the businessperson, the spiritual explorer with the secular decision-maker, the dreamer with the practical goal-setter, neither overpowering the other, each retaining its place of importance and full expression. The zebra will teach you to honor the black and white sides of yourself without compromising yourself into a dull gray.
        The zebra will also teach you how to seek out others who are like you, finding comfort and company in groups, while maintaining your own unique identity, your pattern of stripes like a fingerprint, unlike any other. This combination of individuality within community will be a very powerful force in your life.

        The zebra energy is also the energy of physical health, long life and great stamina. Breathe in this vital source of very real physical power. Feel how you are capable of running across the plains for hour after hour, each step filling you with vibrant earth energy, so that the more you exercise, the more energized you become. Then just kick up your heals with joy, for you are the zebra, vital and alive. How fortunate you are!”

        #3450
        Jib
        Participant

          Accounts of the Journey to the Lower Realm

          Eric
          I was at a steppe first, like I was meditating in the desert, then went through a forest entrance, and stayed under a tree. There were lots of sounds and animals life, flapping wings sounds, deers, ants, but the most vivid presence was that of snake, and I was a bit suspicious, but it came back very gently, inviting, and after I recognized it, it made me journey, travelling like a dragon or feathered multicolored snake to an ancient place.
          The snake analogy with shedding old skin comes to mind, after accepting it, it makes a lot of sense.
          I saw green and purple at times.
          I felt a horse too but it was just a hooves’ sound.

          Flove
          I went through the entrance to a cave. I asked my power animal to come. An ancient tortoise came up to me. I asked if this was my power animal but i felt such love for the tortoise that i felt that was my answer. We explored energetically what the tortoise wisdom i need is. I put my hand around the tortoise neck and we swam in the water.
          I wanted to cry, I loved the tortoise energy so much. And the protection of the tortoise shell.
          I saw a snake.
          The horse was the first animal I felt, right as I went in the entrance. I stroked the horse as i went by.
          I saw a unicorn too, [and ]was surprised by the unicorn.
          I didn’t sense many creatures. just the horse, the snake and the unicorn.

          Jib
          First I saw little white skulls, whistling like the shells of the guy in the video.
          Then I become my shaman self and I have my magic cape. I find the entrance [to the lower realm,] which was kind of difficult at first as if there was some distracting energy.
          I finally enter the lower realm and find my horse right away, he’s very excited and I ride with him for some time, just for the pleasure of being with an old friend.
          Then I ask him to lead me to Abalone and show me whatever is interesting.
          He leads me to see an old shaman, man or woman I don’t know.
          The shaman makes me sit in his room and offers me tea, then tells me to relax and wait.
          So I relax and I begin to project to Abalone as the Giant beanstalk, I begin to grow and grow and grow and have the city built on top of me. I am the whole island.
          I have the impression that the beanstalk is in the center of Gazalbion or very close to it
          Then I come back to the place and have the impression the Shaman wants to delay me, so I say thanks and ask my horse to show me the rest.
          We go the the old Temple and I feel that there is something special there, once again he tells me to relax and just allow not look for things.
          So I wait and feel that the time and space is weird that it flows around the stones in a particular way, like when you follow a certain path or corridor, you may go forward in time and another way lead you back in time. If you take a wrong turn you can end up in a loop.
          Then the signal for the return begins, so I go back from where I come from and thank my horse.
          It was cool and fun to be there again.
          I projected at some point to check if everyone was ok, and felt like it was fine.
          I saw a unicorn too.

          Tracy
          That was interesting, about half way through a zebra started follwing me, well on my right. I saw all kinds of animals, but they were all doing their own thing or turned away, except for the zebra, until the change of tempo and then I was swept up in a flock of cranes I think (or herons or storks but I think cranes), but then the zebra was waiting at the top. I could feel his warm muzzle sort of on my right shoulder.
          First was a field full of unicorns on the left but they were just grazing, then a bison head who turned away, then the group of deer I thought, but the zebra walked over to me grazing. Me and the zebra waited for goats to cross our path.
          The feeling of being in amongst the cranes was amazing and the zebra fell back while that was happening, but then at the end he was waiting.
          I was surprised by the unicorns cos I don’t even think about them usually.
          There were lizards sucttlign around under the cranes.
          A couple of times I strongly saw purple and green, and thought of Jib.<i> not really ask [the zebra if he was the power animal] in words, but his presence calmly walking beside me with the feeling of his muzzle on my shoulder was comforting.
          When the cranes distracted me from him he fell back, but he was waiting at the top.
          The cranes feeling was marvelous, really, they were all flapping gracefully all around me on the ascent. So cranes and zebra stand out the most.
          [At some point] I started going down old stone steps, at first me and FP were kids holding hands, with jib and eric behind us, then I thought, wait, I’m supposed to be doing this alone.
          The unicorns in the very beginning were in a castle courtyard type place but they ignored me.
          Then a bison head who turned away these were in niches in the stone walls
          I ended up in a stalactites type cave, but there were mostly old old stone steps with stone walls along the sides.
          There was a crowd of people, well a small gathering, towards the bottom, but they were, er, faceless. Innocuous.
          I am quite amazed at how great that was! and how many creatures actually popped up
          and how the feeling was of the zebra and the cranes.
          The zebra was stoic and steadfast and comforting, the cranes were exhilarating and uplifting.</i>

          #3447

          Sadie tucked her legs up under her body and snuggled down into the large armchair in the lounge. Her wet hair was twisted in a towel; her skin smelled like tropical coconuts from the body butter she had slathered on after her shower.

          Just because no one can see me doesn’t mean I have to turn into a bag lady, Sadie told herself sternly.

          She turned the television on and the wall became alive with one of her favourite home makeover programmes—a series on portable home design. With the light building materials nowadays, it was pretty common to transport the frame of a house in a backpack, just printing out the additional materials to construct it as required. Sadie set the screen to view only—sometimes it was fun to interact with the programmes, but right now she needed to think.

          Her own home, built early last century in an industrial area which had long since been converted to residential housing, was sparsely furnished, but tastefully accessorised with soft colours and rich textures to give it a homely feel.

          I love to touch and feel things, she thought, stroking the mossy green velvet arm of the chair.

          In a world of so much clutter, her peaceful apartment was a haven of tranquility. She enjoyed silence, or maybe it was just that outside noises could so rudely interrupt the conversations going on in her head. Her boyfriend, Owen, an architect, was currently working on a big development project on Mars and not due back for at least another few months. So, other than when she was on a job, she had spent a lot of time alone lately.

          She felt bad about scaring poor old Finnley, remembering her wide and terrified eyes darting around the room before she took off out the door.

          She has probably gone to see that strange Elizabeth lady she works for. I hope they don’t think she is losing it and fire her.

          And still no word from Linda Pol. Sadie was philosophical.

          Being invisible wasn’t so bad.

          Not now that she had got over the initial shock. In fact, the possibilities were starting to seem rather intriguing.

          #3421

          “What? Teleportation sandpapered granite boxes in an old forgotten temple? You really want to stretch my beliefs to the point of rupture, little one”, Irina looked surprised at Greenie after their little meditative chit-chat.

          The angel guy with bad tastes of clothing, who said he was named George, interrupted rudely.

          “I think she’s right, it rings a distant bell. I don’t know how I know about it, but somehow getting out of Karmalott altered my memories… But I think it’s true, they were used to travel on and off the island, also to other places. Why they’ve been lost is a mystery… But they should be getting us back up to the City in no time…”
          “Or out of the island…” Irina gave a look to Mr R. “Let’s find these precious ruins”.

          :fleuron:

          Thanks to the sabulmantium’s information, Arona had recognized the strange travelling companions of the young girl she was supposed to find. It was no coincidence she’d dropped on that awful bog water so near to the raft. She had actually aimed for it before Mandrake panicked at the sight of the murky waters and got them both in for a swim.

          She’d decided to stay with them, and reveal her purpose at an appropriate moment, while trying to keep the stranger’s hands off her butt.

          She was pleased to see Mandrake was also struggling being left alone by the blinking parrot.

          #3415
          Jib
          Participant

            Consuela has been sneaking out, hoping nobody would notice. And by nobody, she meant that fat short drag of a tyrant. Since the arrival of the dwarf queen, their life has been like hell. She’ve made them scrub the floor several times a day, butt tight and high; she’ve made them move the furniture around, and put it back into place. And with all that they also had to keep on with their usual duties, the fat dancers, the bar and St Germain’s show.

            “Kittie, kittie, kittie” The voice of the dwarf seemed ominous.
            Oh! Shit, thought Cedric, I didn’t even have time to call mum. He tried to hide behind the bins but it was too late.
            “Ah! Little kittie, I found you.” The voice was sweet as a Grannie’s voice, but the face could compete in the category of the evil clowns.

            #3385

            The team of Magi from Karmalott wandered around aimlessly while waiting for the shower to start. Most of them were watching the sky, but one of them, Philichenko Potsummer the Third, was studying the ground in the vicinity of a malachite and rose quartz sundial. The sundial had a blue ribbon hanging from it, but Potsummer wasn’t interested in the ribbon.
            “Sanso was here,” he announced, which got the other magi’s attention. “Sanso was here recently, and it looks like he was flattened by an elephant.”
            “There aren’t any elephants on the island, though” a young trainee magi in purple pointed out.
            Potsummer sighed and rolled his eyes.
            “Logsbottom, “ Potsummer said to the trainee, “ Sanso left a message imprinted in the energy of the sundial, perhaps you would be so good as to retrieve the message and decipher it for us.”

            Lucius Logsbottom gulped, and nervously approached the crystal sundial, hoping that he would be able to read the message and translate it to the other magi’s satisfaction, but suddenly the shower started, and everyone turned their faces to the sky.

            #3382

            The three travelers were not the kind of people to limit themselves to safety and comfort ~ indeed if they had been, Lisa would have stayed in the village, never having met Fanella who would have stayed in Versailles, who never would have met Ivan who would have stayed in Russia. They all had an underlying courage and sense of adventure to be on the island at all. They were not, however, inherently stupid. As they approached the great walls of Gazalbion, they became uneasy. It looked more like a vast open air prison than a welcoming city.
            “I’m not sure about this” Lisa whispered to the others, “Once we’re inside there, how will we get out? It might be a trap.”
            “But you’re always saying we create our own reality Lisa, how can anyone else trap us?”
            asked Fanella.
            “We create being trapped as a reflection of restricting ourselves, that’s how it works. It’s not always black and white. And it’s not always easy to resolve that in a demanding and unsettling situation. It would behoove us to proceed with caution.”
            “That doesn’t sound right Lisa, that doesn’t sound like trust, and you’re always telling us that trust is the key.”
            “And space” added Ivan, “Space is a key, too.”
            “Yeah but what does that mean exactly anyway?”
            “Fucked if I know” replied Ivan.

            Lazuli Galore noticed the hesitation of the travelers, and decided to change tactics. They were only a few hundred meters from the entrance to Gazalbion, and it was starting to look as if the new arrivals would not enter willingly. He dispensed with the elephant form, exploding it into a pack of grey wolves which circled behind the travelers, and chased them into the city.

            “Olution! Olution!” the crowd chanted, for there was always a crowd gathered at the gate to witness new arrivals. “Olution! Olution!”
            Nobody actually knew what the word Olution meant, but they had seen it on tv so many times that they simply repeated it, and the more people that repeated it, the more the frenzy grew.
            “Olution! Olution!” the crowd screamed and Lisa, Fanella and Ivan were surrounded by the people, thousands of them, all covered in colourless grey cement dust, even their hair and faces were a ghastly dusty grey.
            “Now we’re in trouble,” Lisa remarked grimly.

            #3363

            The Time Seam Bar, as they renamed it, for all the efforts put in it had a slow start, but after a few weeks started to do extremely well.

            Admittedly there was a bit of a public relationship boost offered (not quite completely out of generosity obviously) by the cable network. They’d been alerted of the re-purposing of the Time Sewer facility by the Queens after a routine control of their presence on cleaning duty. The report wasn’t glowing, but somehow a business-oriented member of the Board managed to get the Cable Network to lend some money and advertisement to bring the little venture to the next level.

            Props got a major overhaul and interior designers helped rearrange the space. They even got the Queens an impersonator of St Germain, an old has-been forgotten star who was still on the Network’s payroll and whom they didn’t know what to do with. He was actually doing a brilliant St Germain.

            Amar was in the room at the back, doing some accounting while Reginald was at the bar and Cedric was managing the fat dancers and, of course, St Germain’s shows. So far, the arrangement worked well, and they were quite proud of their success. Cedric’s mother couldn’t stop her praises and rants on the website’s page, so they had to moderate it a bit, but that was basically the most trouble they were in.

            “Another day gone well…” Reginald was removing his wig and make-up, with Amar still counting the last cash made for the day.
            “Reg’, I’ve started to remember things from our visit at the techromancer’s hut, I still don’t know what to do of it.”
            “I’ve been remembering stuff too… Some scary shit.”

            #3342

            “I don’t know!” Jeremy shouted at the guy with the round spectacles and the Chinese traditional garments full of intricate Chinese button knots.

            The guy showed no sign of losing patience although they’d asked him the question whole morning long.
            “That is unfortunate, Jeremy” the guy in charge said slowly. He was stroking Max in long broad stokes, flattening the ears with his palms, while the cat was purring like an engine oblivious to the danger in the room. “As you know, there are many ways to skin a cat…”

            “Don’t you dare harm Max!”

            “So let us recap from the start” the Chinese man said. “You told us you don’t know the man, or his companion. That they appeared and disappeared in a rag, to destination unknown.”
            Jeremy nodded, trembling of rage at the way the man was holding his cat.

            The Chinese man gave a brush of hand, which all the goons in the apartments took as a cue to leave them two alone.
            When they were all gone, he tightened his grip around the cat’s soft neck, and leaned closer to Jeremy:

            “My friend, the trace we left in our fugitive’s stomach led us to your place, so there is no doubt he was there. How he disappeared again is a mystery you will help us solve, whether you want it or not.”

            Jeremy looked at him quizzically “so why don’t you use your trace to locate him again?”

            “The problem is, by now, either he’s digested and dumped it somewhere in a hot steaming pile of shit, or he’s managed to cloak the signal. Those things were to be expected. I guess he went to you for a reason. He wasn’t able to locate our thief’s location without your help. So now, you will help us do the same.”

            Jeremy protested “But we tried it already, with the cucumber and all, but it didn’t work!”
            Somehow, a thought came with brief and intense clarity to him. The Chinese man noticed the glimmer in Jeremy’s eye and smiled thinly.
            “What is it?”
            “The map was working for him, as well as the cucumber, for some unexplainable reason. But not for you or me, it doesn’t mean anything! Of course! We have to try something different, focus on finding the person or thing you want, and let me draw another map.”

            Cheung Lok was starting to feel closer than he had been in months. He untied Jeremy, and gave him the cat. “Do it, do it now.”

            Jeremy lifted Max, tenderly wrapping the cat’s soft body like a scarf on his shoulders. He reached for the wall and took a coloured pin off the cork-board.

            While the Chinese guy was busy calling back his goons, Jeremy quickly started to draw on the skin of his arm a symbol with swirly lines, and going in a trance, started to dance into a swirling vortex.

            “He’s escaping!” Cheung Lok shouted in Chinese to the others, “Catch him!” he said, striving, but only too late, to catch the youngster who had just disappeared with his cat inside the vortex which was already rapidly closing around them.

            #3338

            Jack and Lisa sat in dark silence at the kitchen table drinking their coffee, Lisa struggling to recall the dream that had seemed so important, so joyful. Was it something to do with Fanella? But what? Well, maybe there would be some synchronicity later that would remind her, jog her memory.
            “I think I might go for a jog down by the river” said Jack.
            “Suit yourself” replied Lisa waspishly. “How is Igor doing, by the way?” she added, reminded of the poor fellows bee stings.
            “Oh he’s fine, but he’s pretending he isn’t. I think he’s enjoying Mirabelle’s nursing actually. The cucumber treatment seems to have worked, anyway.”
            “And what exactly is that girl doing with a cucumber, in Igor’s bed?”
            “Flove knows, but it’s doing the trick.” As Jack started to push his chair back and get up from the table, a gust of displaced air hit the table with such force it knocked the coffee cups over, and cigarette butts in the ashtray flew across the room.
            “You clumsy oaf, Jack! Steady on!”
            “It wasn’t me! Look!” he exclaimed, pointing up at the ceiling.
            “Fanella! What on earth are you doing up there, hanging from that beam!” cried Lisa in astonishment. “And where did you get that unusual map print scarf?”

            #3334

            “Hence the importance of complimenting a child on his first poops” were the concluding words of the lecture by Choanna Doyle, PhD, under a loud burst of applause.

            Sadie was pleased to have joined the Happiness Institute alumni’s yearly conference and was handling leaflets to the parents who were thinking about enrolling their children.

            When everyone had left the blue and purple amphitheatre, decorated with pink ribbons and heart-shaped reflective balloons, she went back behind the pulpit to gather her bag, only to be startled by Choanna, who was still here while she was expected in the main hall for her book signing.

            “Interesting lecture” Sadie said, as a way to sound polite, as the doctor was probably more used to, and expecting over the top fan reactions.

            “Oh, not that interesting, but thank you for your polite protestations of interest” she said with a soft smile.

            Sadie couldn’t help but blush, being at a loss for words.

            “The crap…” Choanna said
            “What?!” Sadie was confused
            “I guess, that’s the crap that got you off. It does the same for most people. The poop comment is actually quite pertinent.”
            “I don’t doubt that.” Sadie didn’t know what to say, but was sure she wasn’t too keen on more poop conversation. When she’d came back to her apartment after being absent for more than a week in linear time during her network assignment, her pet rabbit had playfully hidden bits everywhere and it had taken her days to get rid ot them, and of the smell.

            But Choanna chose to ignore the cue, and continued “you have to acknowledge this is serious business for the children, it’s their first real creation. This is an important development step for the future adult.”
            Sadie nodded politely, dying to roll her eyes, but sending waves of hearts instead, to cancel out any potential poop jinx.
            “Later, you see, it also will help the adult to not throw in the towel at the first failure. Huhu, I like to quote this analogy, it’s like a sculptor who would throw a lump of clay on the ground and immediately complain that it didn’t turn out well at the first try…”

            Sadie wanted to leave, and butted in a timid “Sorry, but…”

            “Exactly. People are always sorry, but you see, I did something very interesting today. I have decided to only speak of it if it synched with the events of the day, and you provided me with the synch when I saw you flinch at the bottled water earlier during my presentation. Did you know that blind tests of the best tasting water consistently ranked tap water the tastiest ? Now, sewers and poop now seem relevant all of a sudden…”

            “I’m getting late for my signing, that was nice talking to you!” she concluded mysteriously before leaving in a huff “But think about it!”

            What a bizarre yet endearingly odd mad woman this one, bless her heart… was all Sadie could think after the dust had settled in her wake. And that blessed tart conveniently forgot to mention that interesting thing of hers…

            #3329

            Jeremy was 23 years old and living in a 57 square meters apartment in Brooklyn. He had two passions in life. Dance and maps.

            Max growled. Well you could consider Max as Jeremy’s third passion. Max was a ragdoll cat with a tiny little genetic defect. His fur had this faint pink tint as if it had been put into a washing machine with red clothes. Max purred, satisfied.

            Jeremy’s apartment was an artwork in itself. He was painting as a hobby and had drawn a few maps on his white walls. He had the precise stroke that dance demands of a dancer’s move, he had the eye of a falcon concerning details and he loved connecting dots. For some of the maps he had used pointillism, and for others the ancient art of collage he had learned with his grand-mother Martha. Inspired by Matthew Cusnik he had made portraits of dancers with maps and other landscapes.

            Jeremy has been interested for some time in a particularly beautiful picture of the Abraham Lake that he wanted to render on one of the last remaining areas of his ceiling when Max jumped on his lap, purring like a caress junkie in need of a few strokes. Jeremy obliged his cat distractedly, too engrossed in the meanders of the picture and the few maps he could already see in his mind like a puzzle.

            Max jumped on the desk and tried to force his way between the keyboard and Jeremy’s hand. But he didn’t have enough time to fulfill his desire. The cat began to cough as if it had a train of thought stuck in his throat.

            “Shit! You’re not going to puke on my keyboard!”

            But it was too late, the cat opened its mouth and threw up a little ball of hair which bounced off the keyboard and crashed down on the floor.

            “ehw!” said Jeremy who cringed when he saw the hair ball on his carpet. “I don’t know what you ate but it smells like those wheat Polish biscuits.

            Jeremy had already taken some tissue to clean the cat’s mess, and the cat, certainly thinking it wasn’t enough was licking his fur again.
            “Don’t make another one like that. You know I don’t like it.”

            He was about to take the ball when it wobbled suspiciously. Then it began to grow. Jeremy blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When the hairball reached the size of a soccer ball, it was obvious there was something inside, it was deformed like the belly of a pregnant woman when the baby kicks in her bowels.
            “What on earth have you spawned, Max!” He looked at his cat, horrified that it could be one of those Aliens.

            Soon it was as big as a corpse bag for two, and Jeremy could tell from the voices that there were at least two people inside.

            Sanso got out of the ragdoll hair ball first, perfect hair as usual. Fanella struggled to get out of the mess of hairs, and was a bit disheveled.

            “Time for a reality check”, said Sanso. “Am I dreaming ?” When he saw all the maps and the ragdoll cat, he knew he was at the right place.

            “Who are you guys ? And how did you get out of Max ?” asked Jeremy.

            #3324

            Irina gave an appreciative look at the holographic map that Mr R had made of the island.
            By a simple triangulation technique combined with sophisticated echolocation, the robot had managed to come up with a rough estimation of it, even though scattered patches were black, representing the blind spots, apparently due to the abundance of water bodies on the island that created interferences.

            “Well, it actually looks better than I expected, the coast is a bit rocky, but probably more temperate and less humid than here. Some of those spots here seem to hint at habitations…”
            “Madam is absolutely right” Mr R opined with confidence, and a glimmer of pride in his forehead interface.

            “When the girl is well enough to travel, we’ll leave.”
            “She’s still a bit cold and delirious.” The robot assessed, “Her condition has improved steadily, if not quickly. There is a good chance the green won’t go, but she will live.”

            “Have you finished the sentinel?”
            “Yes, Madam. It is complete and will serve well in monitoring the gate. Besides water rats and wrecked boats, not much seems to have went through recently. Although…”
            “Yes Mr R?”
            “I’m not quite certain Madam, which is confusing for me, but there was a moment were my sensors noticed a presence of a young person, but it lasted only for a few nanoseconds in a row, then I could not perceive it… It probably was a malfunction of my sensors Madam, I apologize, but the humidity…”
            “I don’t believe your sensors malfunctioned Mr R. I do believe someone’s been trying to phase in, but didn’t succeed. Make sure your sentinel can detect such things…”
            She went on: “Another thing, before I go for my astral meditation. Did you manage to get me a date? I’m no rocket science expert, but it sounds easier to get than your quite astonishing map Mr R.”
            “Madam is too kind. And as as always, perfectly astute. This should be easy, but again this modest robot has run into a profoundly perplexing paradox.”
            “A paradox, how exciting. What is it?”
            “According to the shifting position of constellations during the nights and the sun’s elevation, the results differ from one day to another. We have to run a few more test to be conclusive…”
            “Is is a local occurrence?”
            “It seems to be true for the whole island, Madam. It is currently fluctuating between a series of years, some of which I mapped to the following years, in no particular order: 555, 777, 888, 1010, 1111, 1212, and so on until 2121, and as well, a series of related geographical points on the Earth.”
            “No wonder it seems to be the garbage collector of the entire universe”, she sighed.

            Then, something hit her.

            If myths of such places were to be trusted… Could it be… the mythical Avalon ?
            If that were the case… Who could well be the mysterious resuscitated bog mummy?
            One of the island’s Queens ?”

            She smiled to herself, brushing off the notion. Irina, you’re such a hopeless romantic…

            #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…”

            #3286
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              (a totally random one)

              San Diego
              – a mystery
              by Ewrick

              The cosy, Cornish town of San Diego holds a secret.

              Gregory Khan has the perfect life working as a shopkeeper in the city and gyrating with his lovable girlfriend, Ruth Donaldson.

              However, when he finds a tattered torch in his cellar, he begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Khan family.

              A Christening leaves Gregory with some startling questions about his past, and he sets off to deserted San Diego to find some answers.

              At first the people of San Diego are courageous and helpful. He is intrigued by the curiously hilarious gardener, Una Grey. However, after she introduces him to hard sugar, Gregory slowly finds himself drawn into a web of decadence, sloth and perhaps, even mutilation.

              Can Gregory resist the charms of Una Grey and uncover the secret of the tattered torch before it’s too late, or will his demise become yet another San Diego legend?

              Praise for San Diego

              “Who wouldn’t give up a life of gyrating with their lovable girlfriend to spend a little time with a curiously hilarious gardener?”
              – The Daily Tale

              “About as mysterious as finding a poo in a public toilet. However, San Diego does offer a valuable lesson about not getting into hard sugar.”
              – Enid Kibbler

              “The only mystery, is why did I keep reading after page one?”
              – Hit the Spoof

              “I could do better.”
              – Zob Gloop

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