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  • Yorath was still trying to explain the nature of forests, the rekindled understanding of the woodland habitats, the memory storing capacity of the vegetation in a vast network of twining tendrils and roots and so on, when Lobbocks burst into the room. Leroway had been finding himself unable to detach the workings of his mind from the ... · ID #4264 (continued)
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  • #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.”

    #3287

    When the Whales had learnt from Belen that the Conch ritual would not be enacted, it set the tone of the Ceremony.
    Less ceremonious, and opening the Gates for a new Era of new learning based on trust and self-discoveries.

    The Dances started, and enthralling gyrations flowed, enhancing the visions induced by the pulverized red algae floating around the seabed. Octopi were drumming in cadence, the Whales solemnly turning, undisturbed by the dolphins high on the algae who were tittering stupidly.

    In the middle of the cycle, the gorgeous crystal was pulsating and glowing.

    #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.”

    #3281

    “Isn’t that the greatest thing about those underwater goggles”
    After the shark threat had vanished, Sadie had contemplated for quite some time her new-found underwater abilities, and how to shift the weight of her body gracefully underwater. And then, she realized she could roll her eyes in the most peculiar way, with the membrane of the transparent skin massaging her eyeballs in the most relaxing manner. She’d never felt so good about rolling her eyes, and that was saying something.

    “BrllllSssadiieeee” came the urging sound in bubbles and gurgles, with a hint of despair dragging her out of the lovely eyeball massage session. The underwater acoustics needed some fine-tuning, so she had her wits to thank for understanding quickly the situation.
    Despite what might have looked like her sending messages on her ezapper, at the same time she was having in-her-body experiences, she was merely testing experimental echo-localization to pinpoint the spot where the pod of whales would be most likely found. The feedback buzzing had prompted her minutes ago that it had found 6 potential spots, and one only which was the most probable and located less than an hour’s diving distance. One thing she knew was that you had to be careful with automatic location instructions, so she’d run a second independent check and was waiting for the results when the alarmed look of Maurana turned and rolled in front of her face, almost giving her a fright.

    “Gbbbllood gracious, Maurana, what’s the matter?”
    “Gbblbl wooohoooglllbb bbbllrsfffftt plk plk plk skwooobbll!”

    “Oh, for fucks sake,” she telepathied “will you stop nattering in French, be more articulate.”
    “The others are drowned and I no longer see them, it’s awful, what should we do?!” the thought came back with force and a bit of campiness.

    “Well, that would depend what it is you want” straight answers were not Sadie’s forte.
    “I want to have our party with costumes and dances, I want to be the black pearl of the Ocean, I want to have more glitter and less molluscs, more chic and less kelp…” she started to sob profusely, half-choking and breathing from her tears. “I want my friends, and to be back hooooome”
    “Bloody hell, Reggie, now is not the time to lose your shit, pull yourself together dammit.”

    The reaction was immediate, the telepathic swearing was so out-of-the-ordinary that Maurana looked twice at Sadie, with her bob cut surrounding her face like a heavenly halo. Suddenly self-conscious, Maurana started to reapply some waterproof mascara to cover the stains.

    “I found them,” said Sadie with infectious calm “the ezapper’s first scan took them for a pod of whales or octopi for some reason. Let’s go get them, then we go visit the whales. But first, you have to try this, it will soothe you…”, as she started to show some more rolling motion of her beautiful blue eyes.

    #3279
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Consuela’s eyes were as round and big as life savers as she tried to absorb everything she was seeing in the underwater cave. Every tile, every key, every shell contained layer upon layer of images and information like great piles of slippery transparent slides. Multiple luminous trails floated from each layered image, intertwining with other layers. Her three dimensional land vision struggled to hold on to something familiar, something to balance, and failed. Consuela lost all sense of direction and perspective in the cacophony of data, knew not which way was up, or down, or sideways or any of the other directions presenting themselves. She started to tumble and roll, gasping and flailing and snatching at the water but there was nothing to hold on to.

      #3276

      “Oh, fuck it” Maurana said when she saw Consuela darting ahead. “The bitch is going to tire and notice we’re all here waiting for the barmy robot to pick us up… I guess… eventually?”

      But Consuela was paying no attention, and continued until it would take too much effort to swim and catch her. Maurana felt a moment of panic. What about the others? Terry seemed still here, doing rounds and laps in her sardine colours, while Sadie seemed to catch her underwater breath. Maybe they should all wait for Sadie’s instructions, she always knew what to do.
      “Let’s just hope that darn e-zapper of hers is waterproof” she bubbled in giggles.

      #3274
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        This is a different kettle of fish altogether from my last diving experience, Consuela was thinking. Why, this is such fun, I can not resist exploring further. Bugger those elusive tentacles, I simply must see what’s around the next bend in this watery tunnel.
        Right or left? she wondered when a side tunnel branched off. She had a vague idea that turning left was perilous, so she turned right, and shortly came to a junction of eight cave tunnels leading up, down and sideways. One of the tunnels had a sign over the entrance crafted from purple limpets, saying “Get Your Mermaid Shoehorns Here”. Another tunnel entrance had a sign made of artificially manipulated pink coral saying “Willy Wave’s Wigs ~ new tentacle and seaweed designs” which was tempting, but it was the “Bloater’s Floater Bar” that seemed the most attractive choice of the moment. Consuela was curious to meet the inhabitants of this unexpected world, and the enticement of a “free cork floating bums with your first plankton smoothie” was hard to resist.

        #3273

        Consuela was always the more independent and adventurous. She didn’t realise at first that there was something not quite right about the perilous situation.

        Breathing under water was strange, and it felt like a not quite adjusted piece of garment (an ill-motherfucker-fitted thong Maurana would have said), as though her lungs were filled with a light yet mucous fluid.
        They’d all struggled and kicked the water in violent spams in the beginning, thinking they were about to die when the wetsuit automatic mucusbags went off, as a security measure for drowning, she’d guessed.
        But then, the magic happened and they realised they could breathe like fishes.
        Then the shark panic attack happened, which left them swimming for their lives with their prosthetic fins (and more or less graceful movements). But the shark didn’t seem interested after all, or it was driven away by a more juicy prospect, because they soon found themselves following a strange string of parallel lighted dots that dived deeper under water like an oddly placed seacraft runway. At least, that was what she thought at first, until she arrived at the cave’s entrance and realized nobody was actually following her.

        The others didn’t follow… She only had to hope that they would catch her later with a taxi or something…
        The thought of being able to discover the underwater cave trumped all sense of caution, and the lure of the prized crystal of exotic properties was enough to send her further down, despite the feeling of flashing tentacles creeping around in her peripheral vision, then gone in an instant the moment she turned the head around…

        #3270

        When the bubble of air popped open, and the veil of mist lifted, all the birds woke up excited and rushed out to taste the 2222 fishes and for some of them, to enjoy cracking macadamia nuts with their beaks shut.
        Among them, Huhu the parrot felt its brain change in a weird brainwave he’d experienced before.

        It knew what needed to be done next.
        Surreptitiously, Huhu crept on the vines covering the floating mess that was the galleon, very slowly, in the direction of the Captain’s cabin, where the Captain’s treasures were kept. A heap of rubbish really, mostly gathered on various of Peter’s visits inland —broken shells of attractive and incomprehensible forms, shiny mother-of-pearl squiggles and brightly colored beads of various materials, former sea trash sanded down to their round form by the power of the elements, and left bereft of any hint of their man-made origin.

        The second key was there, next to the window, with a faint metal shine on its brushed surface, laid in the middle of an array of strange metal objects, most of which were rusted and unrecognizable, old keys as well maybe, or virtually anything else.

        On a schedule, Huhu, swiftly assessed that no other prying eye was looking his way, and that Peter’s ghost form was softly blinking in a snoring fashion, then leapt on the table, snatched the precious key, and flew out of the window to join Irina at the rendez-vous point on a particular rock off the shores of 2222, Big Island, where she was sunbathing in her mermaid costume, while Mr R was close too, in his octopus suit, and as well, on a mission…

        #3269

        Gliding through layers of consciousness, Belen carried her precious cargo of the Santa Maria and its birds towards her destination.
        There were various variations of the same 2222, and she carefully adjusted the course along the 202 years gap, so as to swim to her favourite version of it. It required much love work on her part, addressing, piecing and peacing off many parts of human consciousness, while at the same time tenderly caring for the memories stored with her immense ghost body.
        The 2020 version they had just left, she knew, was already on the proper track towards global enlightenment. There were still horrors, concerns and anxiety about the course of the future, but with a greater perspective, it looked like the positive actions were gaining momentum and leaning towards a brighter fuller and richer future.

        She could feel the Contact Crystal pulsate steadily and it opened her blowhole chakra. Blowing her mind, as it were.

        The Big Island was like a beacon, with the flows of lava rippling heatwave signatures in the ocean, and it didn’t take long to enter the stream that would lead them to the pod and the meeting point.

        As she sensed they’d arrived in 2222, and that they were floating on the surface of a calm ocean, she gently opened the energy bubble sealing the ghost and alive cargo of birds and vegetation, so they could breathe in the pure air and enjoy discovering around.

        “Belen, look at you, not a ounce more of blubber since we last met! You ought to tell me how you keep so fit”
        “Batshatsassani!” Belen was pleased the see the great female orca who’d come to greet her.
        “Still with your entourage, it seems” her friend said without a hint of malice, blowing a few rings of bubbles around in a relaxed manner. “Let me accompany you to the ceremony.”
        “With great pleasure, dear. Rest assured, I won’t carry my entourage along for the time of the ceremony.”
        “It would have been cumbersome, no?” Oftentimes humour (and irony in particular) were a lost subtlety on the orca’s mind. Belen just smiled to answer, revealing a great range of ghostwhite perfect baleens.

        As they swam their way along the beautiful clear ocean, they were greeted by a pod of joyously rambunctious great dolphins, a good half size bigger than their common dolphins cousins she’d seen swimming near the coasts of Portugal. The leader of the pod was doing acrobatics to retrieve and play with a funny scarf made of colorful feathers. It was no surprise the dolphins were playing games, really. That or chasing food took the best of their time. But the scarf was the strangest thing Belen had seen in a long time and it triggered some kind of forgotten memory. Odd thing for her to not remember a memory, unless it was from another probable dimension… She followed the urge to ask.

        “Were did they get that?”
        “Oh, it’s nothing important… Four strange aquatic thingies went down earlier this morning, making a whole lot of noise around. They looked like one of those aliens, but so clumsy we thought they were probably sickly and left there to die by their tribe. The ‘phins took the fancy red gills from one of them.”
        “Are you serious? Are they OK?” Belen huge heart felt panicky at the thought of the small creatures left to die without help.
        “Of course they are, I knoooow we have to keep our reputation, you know. Where they are now, I’m not too sure. But the octopi from the camouflage squad are on it, following them. According to the last I know, the aliens have been lost for awhile in the underwater caves. When they’re exhausted, we’ll send them somewhere else… Can’t attract too much attention to ourselves, with the ceremony and all…”

        #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.

        #3256
        Jib
        Participant

          Linda Pol was struggling with the contracts formulation. Things had evolved almost too swiftly in the past —or should she say future, it could be confusing at times—, and now they had to rephrase a few paragraphs. Of course, the herd of lawyers were doing all that, but she had to check after them, she had to be sure they didn’t make a mistake.

          The e-zapper buzzed. First, Linda Pol dismissed it as she would have done with a fly of no importance. But you know how flies of no importance can really bother you when they keep buzzing around when you are trying to focus on something arduous. The fly kept buzzing until Linda Pol couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked at the name on the transparent screen and caught herself whining inwardly.

          It was her mother.

          She breathed deeply twice and prepared herself. All that took a lot less time that it took to write it. She answered with a deep male voice.

          “What do you want mum ?”

          “Your father and I…”
          Linda Pol shrieked silently. It wasn’t good when her mother began her conversation with those words. But she waited patiently.

          “… have been discussing about this book you told us to read. The Sands of the Species I think it was.”

          “Spices”, Linda Pol corrected automatically. And she winced about that. She could see her mother smile triumphantly. She had her son’s attention.

          “Well, that’s what I said.”
          No point arguing with that, Linda thought, _you know that’s what she’s looking for.

          “Anyway”, continued her mother after a pause, “your father and I have been discussing about who the grand-father really is. He thinks that it’s the main character’s mother after her operation and time travel, but I’m sure it’s his second grand son that was also his uncle and his niece.”

          Linda sighed, they already had that conversation before, and he struggled not to use that excuse with her mother, which would certainly start an argument, and he didn’t really had time for that with the new contracts. His mind noticed that it had started to rain. The drops rhythmically punctuating her mother’s sentences at the beginning, and then as the one way conversation went on, one drop per word. She always had a sense of rhythm, it was in her genes. Or that’s what people said anyway. Unfortunately, with his mother, that sense was mostly coupled with irritation and restraint.

          But the brain works in almost magical ways, and the rhythm of the drops associated with his assistant’s bum made him thought of something.

          “Mum”, she said when she could place a word, “I’m sending you a link that explains it all. Sweet dreams, I love you too.” She hanged up quickly. Don’t let her place one more word.

          The drag asked her e-zapper to find the link and send it to her mother. It’ll keep her mother busy for a moment, enough for Linda to finish her reading the contract. She realized that it made a lot more sense now.

          #3249
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Tuna wars!” Jack said as the alarm clock bleeped. “Tuna wars?” asked Lisa, but got no response; Jack was still asleep.
            There had been an impromptu gathering the previous evening, various friends had unexpectedly called round, some bringing their holiday visitors with them and they had sat drinking beer and wine on the patio until well after midnight. Lisa started clearing away the ashtrays and bottles, noticing the racket the sparrows were making ~ they seemed unusually agitated this morning, darting between the overgrown foliage flapping and shrieking. When Lisa had finished clearing up the debris, she kept looking around, wondering what was missing or out of place. Something didn’t seem right. What was it, what was missing?
            The tile! That strange convoluted tile shaped rock that she’d found on the beach was gone!

            #3248
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The dogs barking woke Lisa up; at first she assumed she had woken up disorientated and disgruntled because of that, but then she recalled all the screaming, no, more like bellowing, she’d been doing in her dream. Intense passionate bellowing howls, like an expulsion of pained frustrated energy, of outrage. Frustratingly, she recalled no details. There had been a similar dream the previous Easter when she was sick ~ the same kind of howls, and she had felt much better afterwards, but she wasn’t sick now ~ in fact, she had been feeling better than she had in a long time.
              Sipping her tea and still feeling cranky at being woken up, Lisa recalled the strange phone call she’d received the night before, and had a feeling it might be an element of her dream. One of her neighbours from just outside the village phoned, Clarissa. Clarissa was a young widow; since her elderly husband had died some months ago, and she had lived alone with her eight dogs. There had been nobody to ensure she took the medication she needed for her condition, which had resulted in a series of challenging episodes, alarming the locals. A few weeks ago, one of Juan’s sheep had been talking to her and wouldn’t stop, so she killed it in the lane outside her house. The sheep kept talking to her, so she cut it’s head off (a gruesome struggle by all accounts, although thankfully Lisa hadn’t witnessed it herself). The severed sheeps head continued to talk to the troubled Clarissa, so she kept the head on her verandah. That was the last thing that Lisa had heard when she received the unexpected phone call.
              Clarissa was polite and friendly on the phone, inviting Lisa and Jack over for drinks ~ insisting really with an edge of desperation in her voice. Lisa declined the invitition, and omitted to mention that Jack was out playing poker. If it had not been for the sheep incident, Lisa might have responded differently, but her sense of responsibility to her own animals made her cautious. Then, to her horror, Clarissa offered to come round and feed Lisa’s dogs.
              As soon as the long and insistent phone call ended, Lisa gathered all the dogs up into the gated top patio; a little later she was gratified to hear a noisy game of football going on in the street outside. Had she over reacted? Should she have had more compassion for the distressed young woman? Lisa lit another cigarette, feeling confused. She had only met Clarissa once, many years ago, and had no idea why she had called her, or where she got her phone number from. She knew of her because of the convoluted connecting links between them ~ Clarissa’s husband had been her own friends father. And she had heard about the various incidents since he had died from other neighbours.
              Lisa had the unsettling feeling that she had refused a call for help. On the other hand, she felt that she had responded to the call for help in merely speaking to Clarissa on the phone. Lisa had been kindly towards her, although not encouraging of any physical contact.
              Lisa sighed. She felt a stronger connection to Clarissa now, but was unsure what it would entail.

              #3247

              Lisa was delighted when she woke up the next morning recalling a dream. She had just joined the new dream group despite hardly ever remembering dreams in the hopes that the pooling would improve her recall. In the dream she had been going on a trip with a few friends, and was waiting for the ferry to leave. The boat was on the beach instead of in the water, and there was thick fog but a number of people on the beach, so she went for a wander around and saw a man stretched out on his back, fully clothed, reading a book, the surfboard gently rolling in with the tide, and out with the tide, and back again. When she returned to the ferry it had turned into a building, the interior quite different from the ferry, and her friends were gone. Lisa checked her bag for tickets and camera, but they were missing, and the bag was full of plastic forks and spoons instead. Bloody Adeline! she thought. Plastic spoons and forks but no camera and no tickets!

              #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!

                #3241

                The corridors seemed unusually long and Adeline ran quickly to apprehend Igor, ostensibly to retrieve the shell as Mirabelle had ordered, but perhaps she could also plead his forgiveness for slapping his handsome face? He will surely be angry with me! thought Adeline, so she gathered courage as she ran by singing a well know song from her childhood.

                Au clair de la lune, 
Mon ami Pierrot. 
Prête-moi ta plume. 
Pour écrire un mot. 
Ma chandelle est morte, 
Je n’ai plus de feu. 
Ouvre-moi ta porte. 
Pour l’amour de Dieu.

                As she rounded the corner she bumped into Fanella.

                “Tsk, tsk, Adeline. Where are you running to in such a hurry and making such an awful racket?”

                “Fanella!” gasped Adeline, “have you seen Igor? I must find him …” Her words trailed off as she saw the shell Fanella was holding.

                “He gave me this beautiful shell but a moment ago. Poor Igor, he seemed most distressed. I suppose we have that bossy tart, Mirabelle, to thank for that. Heaven knows I have no time for the brutish fellow, yet even I could not help but feel some modicum of pity for him. But look, dear Adeline, how beautiful is this shell! Let us put our ears to it and see if it will speak tenderly to us. Perhaps it will give us messages of home,” she added softly.

                #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.

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