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  • #3375
    Jib
    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.”

      #3374
      Jib
      Participant

        Amber Graystone was dead. Killed by a bunch of masked men. Linda Pol would be dead also if it weren’t for Mr Graystone, whatever his firstname was. That man knows how to use his gun, she thought. Too bad he was caught by surprise. He managed to kill the three men before they could hurt anybody, but it seemed they had gotten to their main target anyway.

        “They tried a car incident, poison. I thought I could protect her”, the man was holding his wife, tears in his voice. She had been shot in the head. One clean wound meant to kill. Linda Pol didn’t want to state the obvious, they were professionals. A vibration in her purse signaled a message on her e-zapper.

        Sorry for the glitch. It seems the Chinese have found a way to cloak themselves from our surveillance. Retrieve the data from the husband. The Management
        The queen began to wonder if they were the network management after all. Why would a TV network have a surveillance system and warn them about the Chinese ? Why would they send her meet a random scientist in Hawai’i ?

        While Mr Graystone was grieving his wife, Linda Pol took the liberty to remove the masks of the dead squad. The Chinese indeed. Nothing that could be useful, they all looked the same for her.

        She received another message.
        Move quick. Others are coming. The Management

        “You know”, she said aloud, “I think we should move.”
        “I can’t leave my wife here.”
        “I know, sweetie. But I think she’s already gone. And I fear those men are not be the only ones after your wife’s secret. Do you have any idea how we can get out discretly ?”

        A buzz from her e-zapper told her she just got her answer.

        #3372
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          More on the mysterious island of Abalone and the city of Karmalott

          (initial background)

          We find out that the island named Abalone has some unaware people trapped in isolated pockets of their own dreamlike experiences (that usually loop onto themselves for people not trained in being conscious enough to actually remember their dreams). The Surge Team girl hunting giant mosquitoes is one such case.
          Hopefully, Irina seems to manage to get a more stable and peaceful experience, while somehow being tied to the bog-like area where she extracted the teen girl she calls Greenie (whom we find out later more about).

          The island was claimed by the Chinese across time, but they were never successful, as the nature of the island seems to have broken all their attempts. Nevertheless, Cheung Lok, who was hunting down Irina to retrieve her robot is sent on a doomed mission there, by being parachuted off a plane above its current believed location.

          We find out there is a large City built above the clouds, named Karmalott by the locals, possibly on top of a large beanstalk which can be perceived only by those knowing and believing in it (and possibly able to bypass some counter-charms placed by the magi and the protection of the Sentries (who can create creatures of nightmares for the purpose of protection from unwanted ill-believing souls).

          The main area of the Island is called by people from Karmalott, the Fog Abyss, or the Pit of Lost Souls. It seems certain rites of passage involve young people and would-be knights going to and back the Fog Abyss, usually protected by Magi for safety purpose (avoiding them to get trapped for all eternity if they are not able to break the fog of their own creations or get enlightened).
          It seems Greenie (or Gwinie, being her real name) was purposely left in the bog for yet undetermined purposes.

          In Karmalott, we find out the Order of the Magi, ruled by the P’hope who are in charge of resting and balancing the mass beliefs so that the City can thrive.
          The City is ruled by the King, who has military power over the Sentries, led by the General Parsifal. He is assisted by the Chamberlain Downson, a strange figure who seem to know many secrets, such as the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, which is purported to hold many powers, and bring illumination to the virtuous.

          Other layers of the organization are to be explored, such as the place of the feminine in the society.
          The rule of the King appears to be just and fair, although the reality is maybe less spotless. The motto of Karmalott is “Only in unity can we thrive” (or in broken Latin, sed in unum proficio), and it reflects in the democratic principle of public petition, where anyone can ask for rules and manifestations to be bent or adjusted.
          In reality, it seems most people have become used to a way of life without any strife or war, and petitions are rare.

          It is not known at this point if there are other areas on the island where significant people have managed to gather consistently enough to be able to create a mass-believed reality with the same level of development as Karmalott, but it seems unlikely, as the state of the island is monitored by the Sentries, and they would detect significant changes and clearing of the Fog, while the P’hope would surely detect any conflicting beliefs that would clash with the ones entrusted to him.

          (to be continued…)

          #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.”

          #3341

          “Is that… a flying drone?” the woman asked, pointing at the buzzing monster that just flew past them
          “Nope, it’s a cicada. The ones around here are huge”
          “No way! That thing was carrying a cat!”
          “Yep. They tend to get hungry that time of year. The mating and all…”

          She gasped for air, unconsciously voicing her thoughts “How come those things became so enormous?”

          The guy replied calmly “There’s a theory… That gaping hole…
          “The one that appeared in the ground a few weeks ago, the size of a football field?”
          “Yeah, that one…”
          “I thought it was the reason why they called the Surge Team, although it’s a bit late, now. What about it? “
          “It’s not really the reason why we called you. The hole was benign, the region was inhabited for years. But it released cubic tons worth of oxygen in the atmosphere.”
          “So what?” she was puzzled.
          “Well, that theory states that insects size is proportional to the amount of oxygen in the air… Supposedly the reason why there were giant insects in the prehistoric ages…”
          WTF?”
          “Yep,… wait till you see the size of the mosquitoes”, he said handing her a shotgun.

          #3323

          The stench of burning thatch filled the scorched air and stung their eyes as they ran towards the river. Fanella struggled to keep up with Sanso, clutching tightly to his arm, sometimes losing her footing in her flimsy sandals and bashing her bare knees on the cobblestones. “Lucky this great fire is a distraction from your unseemly attire, young miss” said Sanso, “Your naked legs are so arousing.” While appreciating Fanella’s charming thighs, Sanso failed to notice that his chopsticks were on fire. A spark had ignited them and they flared bright orange as he threw them down. Within moments they were obliterated into scattered ash. “Chop Chop Cheung Lok, now catch me if you can!” Sanso shouted gleefully.

          #3306

          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.

          #3297

          Peter dear, what would you think of some up-scaling?” Belen asked her portly ghost partner.
          “You mean? Our place?”
          “Yes!”
          “Well, That galleon is a bit mouldy and creaky, true enough… And we’re all a bit cramped in there, and nooo, don’t give me that look, it’s not because I’ve been eating more, haha.
          Honestly, I don’t mind haunting it. You had something in mind my dear?”
          “It just occurred to me that there happens to be a luxury time-travelling equipped submarine now floating around without a captain.”
          “Oh, and you knew I always wanted me some submarine to swim and bob just like you… How sweet of you!”
          Belen nodded with a whale smile.

          “But… What about the birds? Can really take them with it, can we?”
          “Don’t mind the birds, we can leave them with the galleon, and honestly there are worst places and time to leave them than in Hawaii 2222.”
          Peter giggled approvingly.
          “Well, I’ll consider it, and we’ll see tomorrow.”

          #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.”

          #3288

          “That’s amazing”
          “How wonderful!”
          “Wow, so great!” … For a moment, was all they could say, in varying lengths and tones of “ooo’s”.

          While they were looking at the show from a distance, Sadie realized they were not alone.

          “Madam, if I may disturb, it seems you have dropped your key”
          The robot which had suddenly appeared looked vaguely like the one which had dropped them underwater, except for the octopus costume. After all, all robots looked the same.
          Sadie took the key a bit suspiciously, and in the second she took to examine it and as she was about to reply it wasn’t hers, noticed the robot had already vanished.

          “How strange it looks just like the sister key to the one Maurana got in France, the key from the ferrets… Wonder never ceases…”

          “Honey, may I interrupt your voovvvs and borrow your key for a minute” she asked Maurana.

          The two keys seemed to match, and when pressed together, clicked and became one, without any visible seam.
          Without notice, it suddenly escaped Sadie’s grasp, and darted towards the crystal, as if activated by it.

          Sadie covered her ears, thinking it would shatter the crystal, but its vibration absorbed the key, and it started to glow more wildly.

          A voice started to echo deep under.

          “My name is Adamus St Germain, please ask your three questions.”

          #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.”

          #3265

          “Yes, I could be able to plot a new course, without doubt, even with that tile missing” Belen said to one of the dolphins of the neighbourhood who had come for an update on the stranded ghost galleon.

          I was weeks of Simultaneous Time, and being stranded was particularly difficult for a Conscious Breather such as Belen, even if the ghost whale now didn’t really need to breathe, the force of habit was strong.

          Peter, his usual jovial self had said nothing, and had merely enjoyed some forays inland, looking for the tile and the conch, occasionally bringing news from the strange neighbours of the nearby village.

          In the end, Belen couldn’t really remember who was who in the strange tales he made of it, there were so many humans involved and truly, their earthly concerns weren’t relevant to hers, and there was only little they could do to help with the situation.

          The Harmonium Convergence was about to start, the crystalline aquatic organs would start to play the tunes for the new dreams of the new era to be sung.
          And yet, the so-called magical conch was still missing. Belen dreaded coming back ashamed to the Youngers without the ancient divination tool. Frankly, it was more of a permission slip, as her orca friend Batshatsassani called it. She would say to her that “every modality, every ritual, every tool, every technique is a permission slip that allows yourself to give you permission to be more of who you are.”
          She knew she didn’t need it really, but she liked the rituals of old, and to be honest was a bit fearful of not only revealing they were not that important, but more, introducing new ones… Would the whale and whole cetacean family be ready for such an end to the religious era?

          While she was struggling with the thoughts, she managed to guard them from the psychic prying of her dolphin friend, by misleading him on meanders of the endless memory halls that she was guardian of.

          Peter suddenly appeared with a popping sound. “I think I found the conch!” he exclaimed with glee in his eyes. “Yes, it’s Igor, you know Igor…”
          “What about Igor, darling, you know I lost complete track of all these landers strange names”
          “He’s the guy who stole the…” Peter stopped realizing this wasn’t really a question about Igor. “The conch, he brought it back with him!”

          Then to his and her own surprise, Belen replied
          “Forget about the conch, darling, I’m sorry I’ve led you to believe it was important, but it’s not, not really. It’s just a ordinary object to lead the philistines astray. It’s not more powerful than the whiffling of a shillelagh. The true treasure is always within ourselves.
          Gather the birds, and let us prepare to leave in the next hour, the Harmonium Convergence is about to start in 2222, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

          Baffled by the revelation, Peter knew enough to not contradict his whale partner, and went merrily with the new flow which seemed so full of excitement and potential new science revelations.

          Belen had a thought “Actually Peter my dear, any other conch we can find will do just as well. Just pick one on the beach before we leave. Dipping it in the Time stream will crystallize it just as well.”

          Peter replied excitedly “Whale that. Let’s spanghew that boat to 2222!”

          Just as a thought of love for the gift of such inner revelation, before she left the nice spot of the Spanish coast, Belen cleared her throat and :yahoo_sick: retched the most lovely green scented blob of ambergris on the beach, next to the spiral made of broken white shells that some drifters had drawn on the beach a few days ago.

          #3259

          The early morning sea mist was evaporating as Fanella strolled around the village picking up dog shit. She reminded herself to fully appreciate the damp coolness, before the scorching summer sun enveloped them in a bone warming blanket, and then reminded herself to appreciate the bone warming effects of the full sun later. As she retraced her steps she noted how differently everything looked on a return journey, how piles of dog shit had escaped her notice while going one way, but were obvious on the way back. It reminded her of something she’d read recently in one of the books that Lisa insisted she read to improve her English ~ A Field Guide To Getting Lost . Hah! Had there been a cruel irony in that choice of book? Fanella had felt lost ever since she arrived in 2020. But according to the book, getting lost wasn’t a bad thing, not at all.

          To be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery.

          Fanella sighed. All sounds very philosophical, but I’m still stuck in the wrong time zone.
          Another passage from the book popped into her head:

          We treat desire as a problem to be solved, address what desire is for and focus on that something and how to acquire it rather than on the nature and the sensation of desire, though often it is the desire between us and the object of desire that fills the space in between with the blue of longing.

          Fanella gazed up at the sky ~ the blue of longing was taking over, as the white wisps of clouds dispersed.

          The people thrown into other cultures go through something of the anguish of the butterfly, whose body must disintegrate and reform more than once in its life cycle…. how often the early stages of change or cure may mimic deterioration. Cut a chrysalis open, and you will find a rotting caterpillar. What you will never find is that mythical creature, half caterpillar, half butterfly….No, the process of transformation consists almost entirely of decay.

          Charming, Fanella thought, just bloody charming. Rotting soup of change, that just about sums it up. No wonder I wake up every morning with my bones feeling like mush.

          #3253

          “Raining?! At this time of year?” cried Lisa in alarm. “I will have to rethink my packing now!”
          Using her telepathic skills, Lisa was pretty certain that Frank and Molly were in Lisbon ~ and that they had been the ones who had stolen the whale vomit tile. Packing her case quickly and booking a flight, she was almost ready to set off to track them down. She remote viewed them again before setting off, and spotted them on a bridge near the Belen Tower, slick with rain.
          Mirabelle, grab an umbrella, and get in the car. A change of scenery will do you good. No arguments!”
          What a bossy cow, thought Mirabelle, and they call ME a bossy tart!

          #3244

          The search was for naught, the crystal conch had disappeared.
          Belen and Peetee were so busy getting the Santa Rosa back afloat, and out of sight of most of the humans around, that they had for a moment lost sight of it.
          During the crash, there was a moment of overlap in time and dimension that had created a bridge so to speak, and some of the sailors had found way on the old ghost whaler.
          Usually, they wouldn’t be able to go past the birds’ fierce guard, but most of them were in disarray, scavenging the nearby beach and distraught.
          Belen had quickly reorganized the tile patterns from the backup grid when she’d realized one from the usual one was dislodged, and in a flash, all the intruders were back were they belonged.

          After a week, most of the ghost birds and live ones that wished had rejoined the deck, the main damages were repaired with some blue light energy, and the Santa Rosa was moored near the village.

          “Without the conch, no tide” Peetee Pois said ominously. “We better remote-view its position, as I suspect someone may have taken it. And we’re still in 2020!”

          #3242
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Well, there’s absolutely no sign of him now” said Lisa, trying to work out what had been happening. “Igor must have been here, because this unusual shell is here, which wasn’t here before. But Igor, it’s as if he vanished into thin air. Jack’s been outside the front and he didn’t see him, Boris has been round the back, and he didn’t see him ~ it seems that you three are the only ones that saw him!”

            ~~

            Igor woke up in his bunk below decks, rubbing his cheek. The slaps to his face had seemed so real that it had woken him up, with the word “Ebanashka!” ringing in his ears. He sighed as he thought of the three girls, and how rudely they always treated him, as if he was a stupid good for nothing. He felt under his blanket for the magic conch shell. It wasn’t there!

            #3236

            Belen quickly found out there was something amiss in the usual navigational patterns from her tile guidance system.

            Her initial plotted course to jump from Bay of Biscay 1757 to Hawai’i 2222 was almost whale calf’s play. Relying on the tiles beacons, it was easy for her to hone to an intermediate time, at the same location, from where it would be easier to navigate the ghost whaling boat. 2222 customs clearance was always a bother, as soon as human had started to time-travel, they had put unnecessary barriers around some key timezones such as this one.

            Her favourite stopover was on the other side of Galicia on the Mediterranean coast del Sol 2020, but then…

            Peetee Pois as Peter was affectionately called by Belen was the first to notice the sails of Барк Крузенштерн, the Krusenshtern swollen by the wind, seconds before they came crashing onto it, launching all the birds in a massive flock around the town that the tall ship had just left (coincidentally with Igor on board as one of the newest recruits of the Russian sail training ship).

            :fleuron:

            Lisa was still arguing with Adeline in broken Spanglish when they noticed the flock of birds at the horizon.
            — Something’s happening on the beach, Lisa snapped, quick let’s go have a look.

            #3226

            With years of intense Happiness training, and being herself a certified Happiness Coach™ in Rainbow Unified Bliss®, Lisa was reasonably adept at dispelling the occasional bouts of frustration that the six time travelers were experiencing while familiarizing themselves with the new time frame. Learning the new languages, both the local Spanish and the common language of the village tribe, English, was of paramount importance, and Mirabelle in particular was having difficulties. A basic vocabulary was easy enough, but when it came to grammar, Mirabelle was hopeless. Thus her communications were of a very basic and rudimentary nature, and she often felt unable to express her feelings, or her thoughtful observations on the many nuances, similarities and differences and overlaps of the current time and 18th century France. Not only was she obliged to learn two new languages, but was also learning to read and write. Often it seemed like all work and no play, too much pressure to perform, to learn, to do well at her studies, and yet play breaks were always frustrated in some manner because of her difficulties in communicating clearly. The fact that the others were progressing better with the languages made her feel alone, adrift in a sea of her own unexpressed thoughts.
            Adeline had a more relaxed approach to the language difficulties, less inclined to struggle with it and more likely to chatter endlessly to Boris instead, and ask him to translate when she needed some help. She had discovered an interest, and some considerable talent, in the art room, experimenting with the paints and materials, and spent many happy hours engrossed in her paintings and playful collages of mundane (but to her, bizarre) objects. She was like a magpie, collecting items that caught her eye. The bright colours and smoothness of plastic appealed to her, especially when transformed in shape by one of those odd little plastic fire making gadgets. Sunglasses were another favourite, especially the different shades of lens. It was not unusual to hear one of the villagers complaining that the lids to the tupperware containers were missing, or all the bottle tops had been removed, to find they had all been glued together, with the flyswatter, a few odd flipflop beach shoes and the mirror lenses out of someones shades. But the villagers were on the whole amused, generously indulgent, and good naturedley rolled their eyes at her creative curiosity.
            Boris was practical and capable, and true to form, was learning rapidly. He had no particular desire to express vague rambling thoughts (indeed, he was not a vague and rambling man by nature) and turned his attention to more practical matters. When he wasn’t chatting to Adeline, he was watching Jack tinkering inside car engines, or playing with Pierre’s camera and had quickly learned how to upload and play with the images on the computer. Often in the evenings Adeline would sit beside him and watch drowsily as the images changed in front of her eyes on the screen.
            Ivan and Igor were learning what they needed to learn while doing it ~ tending the goats and chickens, working outside on the land, or helping with various building projects. They had taken to the local bars like ducks to water, and spent the evenings downing copious amounts of beer and wine with the locals, all of them babbling and shouting incoherently, but seeming to understand each other in the camaraderie of inebriation.

            #3215

            So this is 2222, thought Sadie, relaxing back in the warm sand. Not bad so far! I wonder where we are. Further along the beach she could hear the sound of laughter and bickering as the boys and Sanso practised their moves for the upcoming show—the details of which were still under wraps. Linda Paul, now she had sobered up, seemed to have forgotten her strange request for Sadie to take on a drag queen identity. ”Thank Flove!” Sanso, however, with unexpected enthusiasm had taken on the non de plume “Miss Titters” and insisted that he was going to join the 3 divas on stage for their closing number.

            “Miss Titters! A bit childish,” Sadie rolled her eyes, then noticing that it did not feel good to be judgemental, chastised herself. That didn’t feel good either so she chastised herself for chastising herself. Fortunately at that moment a Juicy Lemon came through on her e-zapper interrupting her rampage of chastisement with perfect synchronicity.

            Oh just release that little bird

            ***

            Irina perched on the edge of her antique Rocchetti sofa—a beautiful piece of furniture over 200 years old, made from faux fur and crafted in the shape of a cartoon bull—and looked critically at the hologram of her mermaid outfit rotating in the centre of the room.

            “What do you think, Mr R?”

            ”It is an exquisite piece of design engineering, Ma’am. The organ you see in the chest cavity can operate as a lung or a gill enabling you breathe as a human or to extract oxygen from the water. The circulatory system has been engineered to withstand different water pressures. The skeletal system is light and pliable and designed for speed and agility under the water. The eyes have been designed to ensure you will be able to correctly focus both above and under water. The intricate design of the ears means that you will be able to hear as a human above water or use sonar communication under water.”

            ”Yes, yes, most interesting, Mr R. But do you think my bum looks fat in that tail?”

            ”Not at all, Ma’am. Your figure is beautifully proportioned and the tail only accentuates your womanly curves.”

            ”I think that shade of pink is much better. What do you think, Mr R?”

            ”The carmine pink suits the undertones of your skin most favourably, ma’am. It is preferable to the cerise pink you chose earlier. Although that was an excellent choice too, of course”.

            ”Wonderful! Print it out then, Mr R. And print out your Octopus suit at the same time. I feel an unusual emotion which may even be excitement. Hawaii, here we come”

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