The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

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Nenothtu saw the shadow loom on the ground beneath his feet and automatically
went into his stance with the gun pointing at the dark-grey object that came closer.
Boy In A Dress's hair stretched like taffy and reached towards the descending shape.

The craft was oval-shaped that reminded BIAD of a House fly's body. Two large orbs
covered with octagon-shaped glass seemed to imply eyes and the the large sac that
obviously held some sort of gas, wobbled above the machine as it manouvered to
investigate Tibbs's hidden hand-set.

The four long tentacles hung loosely on non-threateningly towards the walkway
and Neno guessed the Sky-Hook meant no danger.
"Take care Neno, it means us no harm, but I'm not sure what security-actions the
contraption has" Tibbs said from the side of his mouth and glanced at BIAD, who's
hair shrank back slowly as the man/girl's concerns eased.

The 'eyes' flashed twice and the nearest metal tentacle slithered forward towards
Tibbs's satchel, the large bag hung from his shoulder.
The darkness of the inside of the Pyramid disappeared as the machine's sensors
flashed the light and Neno's lop-sided smile showed on his sun-burnt face.

"You say it won't hurt us, nuh?" Neno hissed and looked at the Vithian for confirmation.
Tibbs lifted the satchel away from the snooping metal arm and nodded an affirmative.

BIAD counted six shots and guessed the reload took two seconds, as Neno shot off the
tentacles and drilled two holes in the gas-sac.
The machine collapsed onto the walkway with a sound of crumpled metal and BIAD
thought he heard a faint farting sound as the Sky-Hook came to rest on the grit and
sand.

As the sounds of the gunshots rolled away across the desert, Neno slipped the pistol
into his holster and stepped up to the dark 'head' of the machine and peered closely
at a small video-screen set between the eyes.

Boy In A Dress stood next to the Gunman and then crouched onto his haunches
to look into the strange-glass eyes.
"BIAD...?" Neno whispered "...close yer' damned legs, heh?" and pulled the large
knife from it's sheath. The hermaphrodite saw on the screen what was bothering
Nenothtu and rose to his full height "sorry" he mumbled.

The blade seemed blood-red in the dying sun's rays as Neno jammed it into
the part where the Sky-Hook's head met the main torso and with two slight flutterings,
the 'eyelights' came on with full force.

Tibbs tutted to himself at the tall man's ham-fisted way of tinkering with technology,
but he was still grateful to see that the corridor into the Pyramid was fully illuminated.
"Looks like a fly" BIAD muttered and turned to see into the brooding building, Nenothtu
nodded agreement and said softly "I agree, but the 'eyes' have it"

The man/girl snorted, but Tibbs inserted "don't start that again... let's go in, heh?"
The three humanoids stepped through the high stone doorway and the sight of the
wall paintings made all thoughts of levity flee into the oncoming night.

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The high-ceiling fresco was definitely Nenothtu, the right wall showed Boy In A
Dress standing in knee-length studded boots and the left wall with the stone
lecturn in front of it displayed a small bearded man holding a large green-coloured
cube, it could've been Tibbs two-hundred years ago.

The real Tibbs smiled to himself and rocked on his heels in contentment of the
painting, he glanced over his shoulder to see if Neno and BIAD were watching.
"I'm not such a bad-looking Vith" he muttered and checked his companions again.

The painting above them showed a man in a metal suit and bearing a pistol and
in his left hand, he held a glowing sword. Neno peered at the surroundings of
the rendering of himself and saw high mountains and the remains of an ancient
stone burial dolmen, the bodies piled high around it.

BIAD scanned the right-hand painting and saw a wig-wearing grinning maniac
walking down a steel corridor, strands of hair touched the metal walls from it's
head. A broken lecturn lay beside BIAD's portrait and if the hermaphrodite had
moved a large dusty chunk of the stone aside, he'd have seen a book residing
underneath.

The book on the right-hand lecturn drew Tibbs's attention and reaching up,
he lifted the large tome down to read.
"Vantine Kel Puldria" Tibbs whispered and felt the rich leather-like cover, the
texture seemed like Bollow skin.

Nenothtu shook his head and walked to where Tibbs stood transfixed with the
writings, the small man's eyes darted from page to page. "What is it?" Neno asked
in hushered tones, the room felt church-like and commanded respect.

Tibbs looked up at the tall Gunman and Neno saw that there were tears in the
Vithian's eyes. "This is it... this is the book that answers all my questions about
time and space" he said and gulped back a sob.

Nenothtu looked over his shoulder and saw the man/girl scrutinising the footwear
of the figure on the wall, a sigh of exasperation left his lips.
Turning back to Tibbs he asked again "so what is it fella? the Vandalian wanted to
be moving on. Tibbs nodded and announced "in my hands, I hold The Vantine Kel
Puldria... the sacred book of the Carbioxians, I dare not breathe!"

Neno peered down at the strange scrawl and geometric signs and shrugged, this
was all above him and that thought produced a snicker, Tibbs frowned back.

A few minutes passed and the old book had been placed carefully in the satchel,
Tibbs was itching to translate the scripture. Boy In A Dress checked the far wall
for a doorway and found the same carved symbols on a protruding ledge.
The man/girl glanced back at his two friends and pondered if he couldn't open
the next entrance, a long red-nailed finger touched four of the emblems.

That's when the floor began to lower into darkness, "oops" whispered BIAD
and the green lighting of Level II made the three gaping men look like Halloween
Goblins.

Chooma and Culp looked up from their experiments and gaped back.
"Ah..." said Tibbs "... Carboxians, we need your help"
Chooma -the thin silver-skinned humanoid stood to his full five-feet height and
said in his high-reedy voice "No Vithian, we need YOUR help" and walked
towards the trio.

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Chooma bowed at the smaller Tibbs and Culp switched off the lathe-like machine
and then stood behind his companion with reverence.
"It is good to see you..." the smoooth-faced Chooma said "... we have been waiting for
your friend" The Carboxian glanced at Nenothtu nervously.

Boy In A Dress saw that the Carbioxians were Grays, the typical-looking alien that
proliferated alien-abuction stories in the 20th century on Earth. The man/girl saw that
Chooma had kind eyes that sparkled blue, unlike the lurid tales of black doll-like holes
that implied indifference.

Culp shuffled from one foot to another and seemed to be wanting somewhere else,
Chooma glanced at his friend and turned back to face the three time-travellers.
"I apologise for my partner's impatience, the sight of the Warrior called Neo will give
all Carbioxians hope... hope that has been sparse for a very long time.
I am Chooma and this is Culp, we're here to assist"

Tibbs smiled and nodded sagely, the Vithian wondered if the tall Gunman would remain
quiet and let things unfold.
"Listen Chompa, ah've just had about enough of this 'mystery-theatre' crap... give it to
us straight" growled Nenothtu and took the weathered stetson from his head.

BAID curtsied once and then, as if there was no feelings behind the greeting, he wandered
towards the machine that blinked colours and hummed quietly. "What does this do?" BIAD
asked and peered into the glass casing that covered the gun-like apparatus inside.
"I am Credo, Creation, Replication and Duplication of Ordnance. I can manufacture any
weapons and explosives you require" The machine's voice was calm and confident.
BIAD looked with an astonished 'oh' at Tibbs and Nenothtu and scuttled off behind the
contraption, Neno frowned and looked back at Chooma.

"We've been thrown from pillar-to-post and I'm about done in, so if you don't want a
bullet holed thru' that silver suit of yours, tell us what's going on" Neno's words dripped
with threatening rage.
Chooma bowed deeply at the Vandalian and Culp copied the gesture, Neno's nostrils
flared with a resigned sigh.
Tibbs turned slightly to Nenothtu as the two Carbioxians were bowing and whispered
"if you wish to get through this as quickly as possible, I advise you to accompany Boy In
A Dress at examining your surroundings" Tibbs showed a fake smile and waited.

Nenothtu scowled back and walked over to the machine that could build guns and talk.
"Greetings Neo, I am honoured to meet you" said Credo politely and that's when BIAD's
head appeared from the rear of the machine.
"He's a real clever-clogs, Neno..." BIAD chirped and tapped his long-red fingernails on
the plexi-glass "... he knows all about us"

Nenothtu looked back over his shoulder at the three smaller humanoids and leaned
towards a blinking panel with severel symbols on it. "Listen fella..." Neno whispered
"... keep yer' voice down and tell me everything"
The lime-coloured light inside the machine turned to a dull red of a brothel's 'okay'
bulb and Credo's voice became husky.

"Two thousand and thirty-eight-years ago, Carbiox was discovered by the ancestors
of the Light Flayers as another planet to conquer. The Flayers ravaged civilisations
and their homes, then they would move off to seek further technologies to assist
their aims.
Those aims are to make demension-travel possible and many here believe they are
near their goal.

Credo let a small beam of blue light pass over Nenothtu's gunbelt and commented
"I can upgrade that weapon, Sir" the words were not in the form of a request, but as
a simple fact.

Credo pressed on. "Carbiox attempted to negotiate with the Light Flayers and by doing
so, would convince them that their plans were foolish and also dangerous, but one of
them -the one known as Caspak, saw through the ploy and the Flayers fled the planet"

Nenothtu looked over at the hermaphrodite with the manic grin and hissed "you gettin'
all this?"
Boy In A Dress nodded and give off the look of someone who listened, but didn't
understand. Neno looked back at the panel and softly said "go on"

Chooma eyed the small robed figure in front of him and saw that the predictions were
correct. The book left for Boy In A Dress held the chapters regarding the three time-travellers
from the future that would come to save the universe. They would thwart the Dark Lord and
his world-destroying race and peace would reign across the universe.

The one known as Tibbs was a Vithian, a multioid that could divide into many individual
Vithians and the stories of his travels were known far and wide.

The one known as Boy In A Dress was more vague, there was dubious tales that he controlled
the 'after-life' and that he ate souls for sustenance. Chooma recalled the chilling bedtime
stories from his mother.

It was the one known as Neo that held Chooma's attention.
The great Warrior of Time and Space, the Vandal that would wipe the slate clean and with
his might sword 'Caliburn' -he would rid the universe of the Light Flayers.

Tibbs cleared his throat and asked "so where do we begin?"
Culp left without another word -although Tibbs guessed telepathy had been used between
the two Carbioxians, and disappeared through a doorway that seemed to appear in the right-
hand wall.

"You may have seen the Sky-Hooks that patrol above, the machines work night and day
attempting to locate their goal" said Chooma and Tibbs noticed that if the silver suit was
a suit, there seemed to be no zipper or buttons.

"They seek the Splitter, the device that can generate the Rift" the Carbioxian whispered
and leaned closer. "I assume you must rue every day since you created it" he finished.
Tibbs nodded again and looked to see that his two companions weren't listening,
"let's keep that part to ourselves, huh?" he said and raised his bushy eyebrows.

Nenothtu stood back from the machine known as Credo and let out a long breath of
air, the information was unbelievable.
BIAD scratched his chin and waited for the next move, his friend seemed to be thinking
-he thought. "So... everything I've known, everything I've lost and everything I've been
through, would never exist? never had happend?" Neno whispered and though Credo
was built of Terts, Benzol-fluid and crystals, the 'Gun Machine' could feel the emotions
coming off the tall man holding the hat.
"Yes..." announced Credo "... This planet's future and your past, will be unknown.
Anything you recall will not have happened"

Nenothtu's hand reached for the pistol in his holster and though, he was deep in thought,
his voice came as an order. "Upgrade this" he hissed.

The man/girl gulped and muttered "And here we go"

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The Sky-Hook finally gave up the ghost and the passageway became dark again,
the two Light Flayers looked at each other and pondered their next move.

It was very rare that they came here anymore, the machines had searched for the
Splitter for centuries without any hint of it's location and though The Dark Lord
would not give up on the quest, his followers were seriously starting to doubt
the damned thing existed.

The miles and miles of broken machinery were the remains of booty acquired
from planet-raids and after their finest brains had analysed the contents, it was
deposited here on Carbiox as a punishment for what the inhabitants had attempted.
Thank the Dark Lord for Caspak's intuition.

The gloom of the Pyramid seemed unwelcoming and the younger of the two Light
Flayers shivered the tentacles on his chin and glanced again at his partner.
"Well, something brought the Hook down, and this structure was impenetrable"
he said in a whispered tone, the building demanded respect.

The Flayer with the dark-blue poncho on his bony shoulders nodded agreement
and reached for a Flayer Torch from his belt. His taloned-fingers scraped on it's
smooth sides and a sudden glow from the spherical device suddenly chased the
darkness away. The two sentries from The Dark Lord's Galaxy-Palace stepped forward
cautiously and surveyed the strange daubings on the walls.

The right-hand side fresco showed The Dark Lord fighting a silver-suited being with
some sort of weapon in one hand and the famous Caliburn in the other.
The Dark Lord stood before Black Atlantis and the humanoid with the glowing sword
lay at his feet mortally wounded.

The younger Light Flayer smiled and his 'octopi'-like head wobbled with a stifled chuckle.
The opposite wall showed The Galaxy Palace floating among blasted and burning space
craft, the planets in the painting seemed to smolder in the Palace's passing.
The Flayer with the torch leaned closer and was sure he could see himself at the
helm-window, he was sure it was him.

Together, they looked at the ceiling of the passageway and saw a scene that made
their blow-holes bubble and pop with excitement.

Keeler the Temptress of Tamar stood with her clawed feet on two moons and with
her tentacles beckoning the oncoming Galaxy Palace. The two hundred mile-wide
craft had chartered a course that would take them between the light-grey firm thighs
of the beautiful Goddess of Olde and the two sentries were certain they were on duty
in the plexi-sphere of The Dark Lord's observatory.
They would have the best view.

The younger one glanced at the left hand of Keeler and saw a cresent-shaped device,
his ink-black eyes moved back to the shiny muscles on Tamar's legs.
The older Light Flayer eyed the red garment in that passion-fused right hand, but he
dismissed it went went back to his leering of the nearing dark area of Tamar's short
skirt.

"Stop looking at BIAD, Culp..."said Chooma " you're ruining their fantasy"
Culp rubbed his silver brow with his smooth finger and nodded once.

The two sweating Light Flayers didn't hear the huge stone door slowly close behind them,
the cooing voice of Tamar promised caresses that would sate their desires.
Then the darkness came and the Flayer Torch blinked out.

"Your transport awaits" said Chooma and sighed softly, Tibbs stepped forward and
shook the Carbioxian's rubber-like hand.
"Thank you" Tibbs whispered and Nenothtu and Boy In A Dress nodded their farewells.
The tubular carriage thrummed near the hole in the wall and the Vithian guessed their
journey would take them westward, a quick look at his hand-held monitor told him he
was correct.

The man/girl in the red dress stopped and looked back at Chooma and Culp.
"What will happen to those two?" the hermaphrodite asked and carefully held the hem
of his dress as he readied himself to climb into the vehicle.

Chooma smiled and for the first time, BIAD could see why Earthlings would see these
Gray Aliens as emotionless.
"We need to continue our experiments" Chooma said and Culp stepped over to a box-like
contraption with a long wicked-looking hose attachment.

BIAD gulped and climbed in with his companions.

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The journey went on forever, or so Nenothtu thought. Landscapes of sand-blown
deserts intermingled with heaps of sulking broken craft and apparatus made him
think of the Earth and what the Ophiuchi Buzzards would do to it.
Neno quietly fumed under the curved-glass window that protected them.

Then the darkness would come again and the three wanderers would plunge
underground along the the strange track, Boy In A Dress could be heard gasping
at each entry.

Apart from the steady hum of the tubular vehicle, there was no sound from outside,
although Neno was sure a lonely wind would moan and whoop across the wasteland.
Tibbs busied himself with his hand-held device and the control panel of the craft glowed
during their time in the tunnel and gave the Vithian's face an eldritch-green colour.

"Are we there yet?" BIAD asked and then repeated it a few minutes later, Neno offered
him a look and the man/girl went back to peering out the window.

After -what seemed like an hour, the the small bearded man in the front seat looked
up at a blinking orange light and after scratching his lined forehead, he muttered
"we're approaching our destination gentlemen" and glanced over his shoulder at
his two companions.

BIAD waved back and Neno re-set his hat and finished checking the upgraded pistol.
The machine known as 'Credo' had accepted the firearm through a small chute near
it's control panel. Nenothtu and BAID waited two minutes and then -in a cloud
of steam, the gun reappeared... or should we say, a gun appeared.

The first thing one noticed is that it seemed nickle-plated, but Neno wagered to
himself that it was probably polished Trathium. The barrel was now reinforced
underneath and a small green glow could be seen where a thin length of metal followed
the barrel. The chamber of the Colt could now held ten bullets, but Nenothtu was at a loss
at how the gun could be still the same size.
The handle was a puzzle too, strange technololgy resided in the grip where a man's
palm would be, Neno guessed he would find out it's use when he needed to.

BIAD marvelled at the sudden appearence of what could be called 'trees' their gnarled
trunks told of hard times and their tiny leaves indicated a struggling existence.
The orange colour was off-putting too -thought the man/girl.
The night was close now.

Then the ocean appeared and the brightness of the hovering artificial Moon made Tibbs
and Neno shield their eyes from the sudden light.

BIAD's smile widened as the memories of his time visiting the USS Eldridge whilst the
so-called 'Philidelphia Experiment' was taking place. The test held no interest for the
hermaphrodite, but the promise of Cotton Candy at the seaside did.
BIAD hoped that opportunity would come again.

The 'tube-car' slowed and as it's almost-silent engines died, Tibbs wondered if he should
press something on the panel to open the canopy. 'There's no need Tibbs' came the
thought and the Vithian smiled at Chooma's calming voice in his head.

The glass window slipped away and the three time-travellers clambered out of the
long cockpit and breathed in the evening air, again -BIAD held the hem of his dress low.

The surroundings seemed to be from a time when Pirates ruled the seas.
The bright satellite -that had orbited Carbioxia for four thousand years, looked down
on the sleepy village of Uktena. The ball-shaped houses made the whole scene look
like something large and barnacle-covered had been washed ashore.
There were a few lights that implied windows, but the small town looked like it
had turned in for the evening.

Tibbs pondered whether to spend the night near the tube-car and asked Nenothtu
of his view. "Whatever fella, I'm about done-in and 'ah could do with a couple of hours sleep"
the tall Gunman hissed.

Tibbs reached for the parcel in the rear of the cooling vehicle and within seconds, a tent
unfolded, along with three inflated beds.
Boy In A Dress leaped on the nearest one and looked up at his two friends.
"Come on family... get settled in" he said with a tone of impatience and mirth.


It was Neno's knife that punctured BIAD's bed in the early hours of that new day, but the
man/girl went on to believe it was a sharp stone underneath.

Strange bed-fellows indeed?

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At the Blacksmith's... if one would deem it such, the familair sound of hammer-on-metal
could be heard and as Tibbs stepped passed the large open door, the smell of a well-built
furnace wafted into the Vithian's nostrils. Uktena seemed to wake with a grumble and a
scratch, Nenothtu had seen only a couple of windows with curtains parted.

Boy In A Dress had packed the tent and beds back into the tube-car and after enjoying
a few moments of the salty air, he quickly trotted after his companions.

Tibbs had risen early and after discussing his plan with the Gunman from Vandalia, he
had made his way over the dried seaweed and broken fishing nets towards the quiet
hamlet.

Large Pinor-Ships sat on their hoverpads at the dockside away towards the other end
of the town, their tall masts holding their solar-sails towards the morning sun.
Uktena had been one of the ports that had enjoyed business from many parts of
Carbiox and had even taken in Freighter ships from nearby planets.
Of course, the persistant visits from the Light Flayers had made business dwindle
in recent years.


"Good day Sir..." Tibbs greeted the back of the hairy-shouldered Blacksmith "... how's
business?" The giant in the leather apron stood to his six feet-eight height and looked
towards the tiny man standing in the dust moted-sunbeam that slipped through the
open window above.

"Good day -back and what can I do fer' yer?" the gravel voice of Clayton sounded like
a boulder on pebbles. Tibbs took two seconds to eye the glowing area behind the
massive frame of the Blacksmith and saw the strangest furnace he had ever encountered.

Christopher Walton had invented the first Orgone Furnace in the early 23rd Century and
after initial tests, it was found that the market was dubious of such apparatus and Walton's
manufacturing had fallen away into obscurity.
Walton had commited suicide two years after his company had collapsed.
The Orgone Furnace winked blue and green behind the waiting Clayton.

The humanoid before Tibbs had lived in the village of Uktena most of his life, his family
had originated from the Altaire system, where the Grays had been visiting for many years.
After four abductions, a series of visits to the Carbiox and the Agreement Of Trade, many
aliens had used the planet as a trading area.
The Light Flayers had seen that rich pickings were available in the surrounding systems,
but with the Grays telepathic abilities, their invasion of Carbiox had been thwarted.
Tibbs could actually recall the time when The Dark Lord's minions had given up on an out-right
invasion -of course, that was another secret never to be told to his companions.

The Vithian smiled kindly and stepped closer to the sweating man, "my companions and
I are searching for a device lost here many years ago, I know that traditionally -the 'Smithy'
tends to have his finger on the pulse of his town..."Tibbs took his spectacles off and seemed
to concentrate on cleaning them on his robe sleeve "... and I wondered if you can assist?"
Clayton placed his huge soot-covered hands on his hips and tilted his head in curiosty,
but the response certainly wasn't curious.

"You assume a lot little man... and I am too busy to talk to a squirt like you" he rasped
and spat onto the straw-strewn floor. The moment Clayton began to turn back to his
'dubious' fire, Neno stepped into the Forge and spoke softly.
"Then maybe 'yer not too busy to talk to me?" the tall Gunman said relishing the opportunity
to let off some pent-up steam.

The ball pein hammer spun it's way towards the lop-sided grinning head of Neno before
Tibbs could take a breath, but Neno dodged the tool with an easy grace, he'd expected no
less for unwanted guests.
It was Clayton who hadn't expected the handle of the knife crashing into his forehead
and the oncoming stranger in the wide-brimmed hat, this was all wrong came the fleeting
thought.

The Blacksmith ignored the stinging from his bald sweat-sheened head and reached a huge
arm at the approaching invader and gambled that a moment from now, he'd be strangling
the air out of him.
Clayton's nether-regions flared with pain and the swift movements from Nenothtu had
suddenly changed the outstretched arm into a painful armlock behind his vest-stretched
back.

"Ah'll ask again fella, do you have the time now?" Neno's breath blew onto the grimy
ear of Clayton and as the giant's knees buckled, 'this guy is dangerous' -Clayton thought.
The pain was excruciating and the stranger with the sidearm and the speed had been
kind enough to share the agony between Clayton's privates and his shoulder joint.

The Blacksmith spluttered and Neno interrupted the sound to inject "take in yer'
breaths... calm yerslf and tell me, do you wanna chat?"
The arm move nearer his shoulder blade and Clayton's mind raced with panic, he
now seriously doubted the man behind was being helpful.
"Yeah... yeah, ah'll talk" Clayton blurted and the sudden relief from the pain made
the giant urinate slightly into his dirty-red underwear.
He would never tell anyone that part.

Nenothtu and Tibbs waited quietly as the Blacksmith gathered himself and a quick
glance at the Vandalian's eyes told Clayton not to make the mistake that he would
be taken by surprise, the wide-shouldered man sighed and adjusted his apron.

"We seek a crescent-shaped machine called 'The Splitter' and it was lost in this area
a long time ago... have you heard of it?" Tibbs asked politely, the difficulty to stifle
a smirk took discipline, he must remember to thank Neno -Tibbs thought.

Clayton looked at Nenothtu as he slowly reached for a large dirty rag and after
a nod from the Gunman, he picked it from the coals near the furnace and wiped his
big hands.
"We all know of this machine, although 'ah've never seen it... anyways, ah thought
the Light Flayers had it" Clayton said and focused on wiping the metal-dirt from his
fingernails, his 'lower equipment' still ached and he guessed he wouldn't be visiting
Big Bertha's tonight.

Nenothtu sighed impatiently and Clayton thought he'd better hurry and explain further.
"Yer' best bet is the Tavern, there are folk who came in last night from Greditch and
as far as Carver" Clayton reckoned he had never talked so much at this time in the
morning in his whole life.
Neno's eyes told him that was enough reckoning for one day.

"Well, we thank you for your time and advice..." Tibbs said and bowed slightly "... I hope
we haven't upset your day" Tibbs looked to the floor and didn't see Clayton roll his eyes
in disbelief. Neno was a statue and waited for the Blacksmith to go back to his toil.

As the doves cooed in the high eaves of the Forge, Clayton's mind raced with how to get
his revenge on the stranger with the speed of a Hill Cat.
Nenothtu stepped into the sunshine and smiled to himself as his thoughts ran ahead
of the big man in the apron.

"Everything okay?" BIAD said as he looked up from a water-filled barrel, the man/girl
had been checking his reflection.
"A-okay" said Neno and glanced back at the slatted door of the Blacksmiths, a small
smile played on his lips as he winked "just stokin' the fire" he whispered.

Boy In A Dress nodded and Tibbs grinned at the hermaphrodite's confused expression.

~*~*~*~ Tune Up ~*~*~*~

‘Would you stop wiggling!’ Dag cried her frustration mounting. Revamped Recovery Bay or no the bio-healing machines had yet to be tamed and in their eagerness to please and in their want to function they did neither, please or function.

First - Adam and Chumley had nearly suffocated in the self-sizing medical platforms. The bio-fitting material had responded perfectly engulfing their forms in elastic material, holding them firmly to begin a full scan of their persons but in all the excitement the pillows slid up and over their faces and it took a full two minutes before Dag could beat the cushions back from smothering her two friends to death. If that wasn’t enough the bio-probes long arms that extended from above the recovery bed to mold to whatever they touched were acting remarkably like obstinate baby octopus.

‘Are you sure these beds are safe now?’ Adam called without moving even the muscles in his face, scared the bed might go for his tongue.

‘Yes, they’re fine. It was my fault,’ I think she added sotto voce, ’I should have, ummm, programmed in your body description, race, all that but with the way you two just plunked down, well, what can you expect, those recovery beds are alive!’ Dag hissed again at the smooth tentacle probes that continued to slither in and out of her grasp in search for the source of the blood smell coming from Adam and Chumley.

Readied at the foot of their beds, a shock of white hair falling into her eyes Dag held up two probes the tentacle like arms twisting and writhing like fat thick snakes the colors changing and pulsing in their gyrations. ‘Ok, here’s the thing.’ Dag started, ’There’s one of these for each of you,’ she panted and smiled nervously approaching Adam first, ‘So, you two just relax, breath normally and I’ll just step up and place them over your noses and...’

‘The hell you will lass...’ Adam snarled thinking how only moments before he’d almost met a grizzly end at the ‘hands’ of a cushion. If Dag thought for a moment he was going to allow anything else near his face she was...His thoughts were interrupted by the bed squeezing him tighter.

‘No use fighting Doc,’ Dag smiled sweetly as the long greenish blue probe freed itself from a coil around her arm to weave in the air like a serpent smelling a rat. ‘This bed isn’t going to let you up until I tell it too so you might as well just lay back and enjoy.’

A growl rose in the back of Adam’s throat as Dag neared and real fear sparked in his eyes as she lowered the probe closer.

‘And don’t worry, this isn’t going to hurt for more than a second.’ Dag giggled and barely managed guiding the probe closer before it jerked from her hand, flattened itself over Adam’s face smothering his protests.

‘Enjoy those endorphins Adam, you won’t be feeling a thing in just abouttttt...’ Watching his fists relax into open palms Dag chuckled again, ‘Yeah, just about now.’ Dag smiled contentedly as Adam slipped under the natural narcotics secreted from the probes allowing their healing process to go on in a gentle fury.

Turning toward Chumley who’s eyes were closed in fear Dag found a new reason to be glad she’d become female. The ‘stronger’ sex went from ‘he studs’ to infants at the sight of just a little blood or a touch of pain. Males! ‘Ok big guy, you’re next, but, don’t worry...’ Guiding the second probe toward Chumley she smiled and finished, ‘This aint gonna hurt.’

The blue-green prod immediately flattened against the Regalians nose, changed color to a pale puce and reared up as if in disgust. It’s tip snaked across the great green hills and valleys of his face poking it’s slim proboscis into every orifice, searching. Continuing it’s progress the probe elongated from where it dropped from the ceiling to further it’s way down the Regalians chest and bellow. In fascinated horror Dag watched the probe inch it’s way under the waistband of Chumley’s uniform where she followed it’s movement under the material further down his frame until it snaked past his groin and dove down under the Regalian’s hips.

Chumley lurched, his eyes flew open as wide as stars, then relaxed into the drowsy submission as the drugs from the bio-probe led the Regalian through the healing process and into a place free from pain and...discomfort. Turning back to Adam Dag felt slightly nauseated. ‘I guess there’s no accounting for anatomy’ she thought to herself thankful Adam wasn’t a Regalian.

Overhead the monitors sang to life relating a myriad of information indicating the males bio-levels were all in the norm. Dag sighed with relief. It would take a while but soon the two would be as good as new, the probes were designed to give them both the full tune up they needed badly after the physical hardships they‘d endured on Earth and their manly playing at fisticuffs earlier in the day.

With one last look over her shoulder Dag shrugged and crossed the long room to where Silo moaned softly in her p.h.a.r.s.

~*~*~*~ Dream State ~*~*~*~

Waking up with a groan Silo didn’t move, just groaned. Her face was stuck to the wooden tabletop her tongue felt like an old sock and her eyes were glued shut with some crusty crud she didn‘t think was sand. Rolling her second set of eyes up their stalks she examined herself objectively. Nope, she didn’t make a pretty picture he face plastered to the table with dried drool. But, it was all good, relatively speaking. She could easily deal with a little drool after the night she’d passed, it was hurl she’d been afraid of.

Her eye stalks sunk back down on their stems as she thought about raising her head. It was just too early for four sighted vision when her two stationary eyes were seeing double already. Slowly prying her cheek from the table Silo took a swipe at her face with the bar cloth permanently clutched in her hand but it was dry and only roughed her crusted cheek. She needed water.

Groaning again she made her way across the floor to the two side windows that faced the dawn. Covering her eyes with the bar rag Silo pulled at a length of rough twine turning her head away from the twin oiled hides rolling up to let morning light flood the room.

Peeking through her fingers at the great room Silo expected the worst but got a nice surprise. High stools were shoved under the long rolling uneven bar, the tables pushed to the corners sporting rough wooden benches atop their polished surface. At least I put the place in order before passing out she thought her eyes dropping to her booted feet scuffing though the floor covered thick in fresh shavings ready to soak up another nights slops. And it didn’t smell half bad if you didn’t breath in too deeply she though with a crooked smile.

Grumbling to herself she tuned to the open windows and wondered if there’d ever be a time she’d have real glass back in place of oily hides. Probably not, she chuckled reluctantly and ran her fingers through her ragged hair remembering how the whole of Uktena had laughed at her fancy glass then immediately dropped all to begin taking bets on how long they’d last. If it wasn’t a traveling Being who’s innate urge to kill caused him to attack his or her own reflection in her windows it was some other Beings innate urge to kill that was throwing others through the panes. Silo wondered how many space-tinkers sold mirrors in Uktena. Not many she bet.

Crossing the room with cold fingers spread wide Silo’s gaze fell to the blackened coals in the hearth, her hands slapped her thighs and she moaned once more. Sure, she’d cleaned the floors, stacked benches, even locked the doors useless as that was, but she’d forgotten to stoke the fire.

Swearing expertly she stamped her foot at her own foolishness. A dead fire meant by force she’d have travel to the Blacksmith and pay him for a scoop of red hot coals. Silo didn‘t dare take a chance on getting caught making fire of her own with all the smoke-watchers about in the morning waiting to turn in any who didn’t follow law. Rotating her sore shoulders her bare skin prickling in the chill Silo headed for the kitchen. No sense in dallying about now she needed to get a haunch of meat roasting, fresh biscuits baking, kettles of stew bubbling and all before brewing endless pots of coffee for the her boarders when they woke hungry and hung over. And with the landing of the Greditch Ship last night her rooms were full double to a bed.

Passing through the kitchen Silo dunked her head in a sink of slightly greasy dish suds and shook her head sending droplets flying. Rubbing her hair face and mouth briskly with a clean cloth she passed into the pantry and stuffed the rag full of a dozen of so small tart pies she’d made the day before. That would have to do Clayton the Smith for the fire - she had no spare flakes of coin.

Out the back door and crossing the narrow road to the huge smithy already glowing with life Silo wondered when Uktena would remit the tax on fire making, and so many other laws allowing her townsmen to go back to the old ways. Splitter!, she ground out the blasphemy while aiming a kick at a stray dog, with the tax on ground flour and the same on rendered fat from the butcher to make her pies - and then to have to pay for a coal bucket too? No wonder she’d never had enough coin flakes to leave this hell hole.

Negative thoughts aside, it wasn’t in her nature to remain so, Silo tilted her head to the dawn and smiling letting the warmth of the sun flood over her face and skin. Another sunny day in paradise she thought and laughed at herself and the dog who persisted in following her. The walk to the Smiths wasn’t far, but far enough to see nothing much had changed in Uktena since the night before. Same sun, same town, same people, same shops, same morning...or was it? A nettle of caution pricked at the damp hair across her nape. Something was different.

Silo stopped in her tracks ignoring the dog who whined and flattened to her side. Looking over her shoulder and back Silo sucked in great droughts of salty air her brow knitting little ridges between her large dark eyes. No, it wasn’t her imagination, the morning fairly crackled with promise and blistered with the heady sulfur scent of danger. Cocking her head Silo breathed deeply again. Yes, there was definitely something odd about. Something that promised a good fight and a good drink after, something that smelled like adventure.

Whistling the last few steps to the Smith’s shed Silo tested the edge to the long cruel knife that hung at her side. Smiling a wry smile she chucked the dog under the ears and called out for the Smithy. Yeah, this is why she stayed in Uktena... For mornings just like this one!

~*~*~*~ Eavesdropping ~*~*~*~

Strange voices coming from behind the chinks in the Smiths daubed wood wall gave Silo pause. Red Shorts had company and not the usual kind. There was no horse tethered out front to the large shade tree growing thickly over his three sided shed. No fish wife come a toting a iron kettle it’s handle needing pinning, and it was too early for the town Financiers, the drunken sots, to rise from their wenching to collect the daily taxes. The voices belonged to outsiders and they weren't the Greditch, all those newcomers were still asleep above her bar.

Letting her curiosity get the best of her Silo raised her eye stalks to peek through a space in the daubing, her ears pricked forward to catch snippets of the conversation. To her frustration the wheezing of the Orgone’s great bellows and spitting of the great blue-green fire made eavesdropping near impossible. Silo couldn’t make out their words but she knuckled her fist to her mouth to muffle a gasp. The voice from the short one belonged to a Vithian!

‘Here? A Vithian here?’ Her eyes spoke the silent question to the bony stray that stood ridged at her hip. The great mangy dog stared back at her with black eyes widening. It‘s torn lip curling silently as the soft deadly lilt from the Vandalian who spoke next.

Stretching her eyestalks to their tips Silo peered over the top of the wall to try and catch a glimpse of the Vandalian. She’d heard many a story of their kind and wanted to see if the one inside the Smithy matched the lurid description she’d heard time and again at the bar. To her disappointment the Vandal was hidden behind Claytons hairy bulk and she cursed the Smith roundly in her head just as she usually did to his face. A bigger idiot there couldn’t be found in town, but, neither was there any other who could make the Orgone Furnace sing his tune, or an idiot quite as dangerous.

Moving slowly along the wall to the right, still hoping for a glimpse of the Vandalian Silo’s eyes caught her own reflection in the huge water trough Clayton the Red used for cooling his metals and stealing the breath from her lunges an equally large pair of dark eyes stared back at her from the tubs mirror like surface narrowing slightly at the corners as their eyes met.

The scuttle of coal completely forgotten Silo turned at a dead run for the back of the shed. There, pulling her shoulder cape over her head and rounding her shoulders into a beggars hunch Silo limped forward leaning heavily on the dog. Making her way past the Smithy on the opposite side making sure her shoulder cape didn’t slide from hiding her face Silo moved forward exposing herself to the four inside the shed - hiding in plane sight. Everything about her spoke old, decrepit and non threatening. There was no way the outlander who’d seen only her eyes could link the reflection to the beggar humping up the road.

The Smithy to her back her fingers still snarled tightly in the dogs fur she commanded it to continue past her bar and farther forward to the curve in the road and out of sight. Once round the corner Silo righted herself and plunged through the underbrush headed for home.

Dog, chuckling silently to himself played his part well shadowing Silo back to the bar where he waited patiently for Silo to drop the dirty kerchief of tarts at his feet. With a whisper of thanks she pat the dog distractedly before slipping into the kitchen baring the door firmly behind her. Bolting the tarts Dog licked his lips appreciating a canine appetite.

If there were smoke-watchers about Silo knew they’d come to her later begging a week of free ale to whet their mouths into silence and she‘d gladly pay. Striking a priceless piece of flint she’d hidden in the handle to her dagger against it’s blade Silo showered sparks onto a handful of tinder readied for fire. If it came to paying the smoke-watchers blackmail or being found out by the outlanders at the Smiths, she’d made her choice who’s price she’d rather pay.

The unlikely trio trod the streets as if with a purpose after leaving the smithy. Tibbs was the first to speak up "We should find a place to bed down for the night." Eying neno he added "a base of operations" to assist the larger man in comprehending his meaning.

"I'm fine right here" neno muttered.

Glancing at the dusty street, and considering the discomfort of just camping right there, the Vithian tried to hide a smirk as he commented "you can be such a Neanderthal at times" apparently without rancor, yet dripping sarcasm.

"A what?" neno replied. He wasn't sure if the little Vithian had just insulted him or commended him.

To avoid the issue altogether, as much as anything else, Tibbs gave all appearances of "suddenly" noticing the front of a bar. "Perhaps we should go in here and sit down a spell, maybe have a drink and make a couple of decisions."

Nenothtu started to protest. He generally avoided bars and the unpleasant interactions they seemed to somehow always provide for him, but Tibbs' mention of a 'drink' overpowered his reluctance. "Yup, I'm a bit parched. I think that'll do for now." was his only comment as he strode towards the doorway of the bar, apparently with no reservations at all.

Entering the dim bar, and allowing his eyes to adjust from the brighter light outside, neno paused a moment before fully committing in order to scan the room for problem children. Near the hearth three disreputable appearing characters seemed to be in a lively debate with... SILO! How'd she get here? Neno's eyes shot wide open, and his mouth gaped at the scene before him. Just when you think you've seen it all...

BIAD, being the more self-possessed of the traveling trio at this moment, reached over and gently pushed upwards on nenothtu's chin until his mouth closed. "You'll catch flies like that" he dryly commented with the action. Nenothtu's eyes narrowed as he focused on the hermaphrodite, and wondered why he didn't seem as shocked as the other two. "Thanks" was all he said, though, before turning back to the scene at hand. He caught the words "think of it as just another tax, then..." and that was all it took. If nenothtu disliked anything more than taxes, it was tax collectors. To cement matters, it appeared for all the world that this set of "tax collectors" was giving Silo a hard time over the collection, as unlikely as that seemed.

He edged forward to the animated group, and cleared his throat, then said "Ya got beer here? I need me some beer. a hogshead of it won't be too much - I'm REALLY thirsty."

The man who had mentioned the word "tax" looked up, annoyed at the intrusion. "We're discussing business here. You'll wait your turn and damn well like it." he said with as much venom as he could muster, which was quite a lot - as if he were used to his orders being obeyed without condition. Unfortunately for him, that marked him to neno as the leader of the opposition.

"Well, gimme a beer and I'll be out of yer hair, then" neno replied, his blue eyes narrowing somewhat.

"I SAID WE"RE DEALING BUSINESS, MAGGOT! You'll wait your turn and like it, or I'll have the boys discuss it with you out back. Don't forget WHO you're dealing with here, and stay in your place!"

Oops. At the word 'maggot', nenothtu's eyes suddenly changed from blue to solid black, an oddity he'd never run across before in any other being, but one which told any onlookers without a doubt that they'd crossed the line, if they knew what to look for. This "tax collector" apparently didn't. Neno leaned into the man's space ever so slightly, and said with a near whisper "I neither know nor care 'who I'm dealing with'. You have less than 3 seconds to clear out of here, you AND your boys, and do it without comment. I hate comments. If you don't, I swear I'll deal roughly with the whole lot of ya."

The "tax collector" could not believe his ears. The temerity of this scrawny man! He'd soon LEARN who he was dealing with. He opened his mouth, and it looked like he was about to make a comment, which was of course a mistake - he'd already been warned. Any comments he intended to make were swallowed in the "GAACK!" that emerged as nenothtu's left hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the wall behind him with his feet not even touching the ground, dangling, kicking, and emitting "gaaacks" as appropriate. "I hate it for ya" neno whispered, "but I TOLD ya to keep yer yap shut on the way out of my sight." He caught motion from one of the henchmen out of the corner of his eye, and without turning his head said "Don't. I'll snap his neck just as pretty as you please, and you'll be in the market for a new boss - assuming you survive. If I do, they'll never find ANY of your bodies." The Boss's eyes pleaded with the henchman to stay where he was, but all he said was another "GAACK!" with perhaps a "GREE!" mixed in.

Neno continued, conversationally now. "I don't care to deal with your 'boys' out back when I can just as easily deal with YOU, right here, and with less effort. If you EVER refer to me as a 'maggot' again, I'll give you a lesson in just what maggots eat, little man." The last was odd, considering that the man had quite a bit of of girth on neno, certainly more than would be expected of a 'little' man. neno continued "Now, I've already given you the chance to leave here under yer own power, and you apparently elected not to take that route. I'll give ya a hand now." and with that he spun the man around, grabbed him by the nape of the neck and the back of his belt, carried him bodily to the door, and tossed him out into the street, landing face first in a pile of tangled limbs.

Seeing his cue, the henchman that had previously tried to crowd neno took the opportunity to launch an assault. Nenothtu, still being in the door with his back turned, heard the motion behind him, spun around, grabbed the assailant by the wrist and elbow, and tossed him outside as well. Technically, the man launched HIMSELF into the air and out the doorway, also landing in a tangled pile of limbs practically on top of his boss, in order to escape the sudden pain of what was sure to become a broken elbow if he didn't. The other henchman, seeing the writing on the wall and not sure what to make of this stranger, scuttled out the door on his own, pressing his shoulders to the wall with upraised palms in passing.

Neno didn't bother dusting his hands off and turning back into the establishment. Instead, he widened the stance of his feet and crossed his arms, watching the miscreants from the doorway until they had untangled themselves and limped off. As he watched them limp away, and without turning around in fear of betraying his surprise at seeing his own ma as a barkeep in a place he didn't even know, just said over his shoulder "Who does a Vandalian have to whoop to get a beer around this joint?"

~*~*~*~ Beer! ~*~*~*~

"Who does a Vandalian have to whoop to get a beer around this joint?"

‘Why you pompous stuffed up Vandalian piece a stool meat!’ Silo hollered and aiming for the back of his dark head let fly a heavy crock mug, ale and all.

Neno ducked and swerved, the mug clipped his ear on the way passed, the ale rained down his coat and shoulder to bead up and shine in the sun. BIAD and Tibbs watched the flight of the mug their heads turning as one and jumped back just in time to save themselves from wearing the dregs.

Even madder now that she’d only nicked the stranger and not knocked him on his arrogant arse Silo swore at the sun in her eyes while turning to the nearest table in search for another missile. Bending across to grab another mug right out of a customers grasp the owner of the hands clenching the ale pulled back in protest before he thought better of it and abandoned his drink to dive under the wooden table.

‘Good choice Gnarly...’ Silo said matter-of-factly snatching up his drink. ‘Thank you Mam.‘ Came a muffled reply from under the table. For Gnarly’s part seen Silo in a snit before and wouldn’t bet on making it out the back door intact.

Another ale in hand, a knife at her hip and a blazing fire in her eye Neno realized he’d riled her but he couldn‘t think of a single thing to say to this Silo who’d rounded on him with a fury like he’d rarely seen. Neno slowly raised his hand to his ear, his fingers came back wet but with ale, not blood. Shaking his head Neno waited for Silo to make the next move. He didn’t want to hurt her, and wouldn’t, but he wasn’t going to loose an ear over it either.

Weighing her chances Silo thought twice about throwing the second mug and gave credit where it was due. The Vandalian's reactions were a lot quicker than most and he wouldn’t have even gotten caught in the ear if Silo hadn’t been lucky. ’No use sending good ale after bad’ she thought and downing the draught in one long swallow hit the table with the empty butt of the mug causing the handle to sheer off in her grip. ‘Ooops’ she uttered around a belch but carried on with the bluff looking to see what the stranger would do next. The silhouette slowly raised his hands to his sides where sunbeams burst from between his spread fingers like magic.

A pretty sight it made for sure but Silo wasn’t to be undone by bad theatrics. He knew she couldn't see him fully with the light to his back and he knew the effect he was making, but failed to realize Silo had seen it all before. Without looking away Silo yelled over her shoulder at Gnarly who was slinking between tables for the back door like a snake with a belly full. ‘You’ll be leaving a coin flake on your way out or I’ll come by to get it!’ She threatened at the escapee who lurched to his feet in a half crouch, shoved something from his ragged pockets atop the high long bar and shot out the back door with his hands behind his head to deflect any more flying mugs.

‘Now,’ Silo’s advanced on Neno raising a hand to get a better look at the ‘maggot’ who’d probably just cost her the bar.

The sun out of her eyes Neno became more than a large dark outline. His eyes and face, his hard chin covered in stubble, his dirty hair. The way he held himself. She knew him didn’t she? But from where? An odd feeling of weightlessness she couldn’t blame on the ale swept over her in a rush.

As her knees began to give Silo felt herself crushed against a strong chest and held fast by a pair of stronger arms. In a few strides the Vandalian had her sitting on the top of the bar prying the broken piece of crockery out of her hand and pushing a mug filled with something cold into it.

‘You can kill me later Mam,‘ A husky voice whispered by her ear, ‘but right now, you’d better just sit this one out.’

Nenothtu satisfied himself that Silo wasn't going to fall flat out on the floor, released her, and stepped back. BIAD said to neno out of the side of his mouth "Do you think it was particularly wise to offer to let her kill you later AND give her another of those crockery mugs at the same time?"

Nenothtu chuckled. "Eh, she'll be ok. Still too woozy to present a clear and present danger. See, she's a woman. Now, I don't know a whole lot about women, but I DO know they'll fly into a snit over mere words and turns of phrase that mystify me as to what set them off about it." Pausing to consider, he continued "For that matter, I reckon that it mystifies THEM as to what sets me off, too, so I reckon we're even. She'll calm down..." ruefully looking at the wet stain on his jacket, he added "besides, that's one way for me to get a beer, I suppose." Mournfully, he concluded with "I'd have preferred it on the inside ruther than the outside, though."

At that moment, Silo's eyelids fluttered, and her eyes started to turn upwards in her head while her body simultaneously started listing to the left. Neno jumped and caught her, holding her upright until it passed. Tibbs spoke with concern in his voice, and said "Are you ok, Silo?" That seemed to snap her to.

"How did you know my name?" she asked suspiciously.

Neno shot a warning glare at Tibbs, and covered the faux pas by saying "the blacksmith must've mentioned it in connection with this bar. We paid him a little business call." Wrong phrase again.

"Business call? You seem to do business the same way Manko and his crew does. Are you trying to take over his territory?" Silo said through slitted eyes. This day was just getting betterer and betterer, neno thought to himself. There HAD to be some right way to talk to this woman.

"No, no, nothing like that. We're just passing through, looking for a particular item. Thought the blacksmith might have some notion of where the gizmo was is all. As far as ... Manko, was it?... goes, well, I just plain hate shakedowns, so I sort of butted in to the situation to prevent what looked like one. Besides, you sort of reminded me of someone I used to know, a long time ago and a long ways away. Couldn't bear seeing you as the object of a shakedown is all. My mistake" he said gingerly, trying to gauge the reaction before it smacked him up side the head. "Now, if it's all the same to you, we'll just go sit in yon corner and be quiet a bit until ye get yer bearings - which I hope don't involve any more missiles headed towards my poor, broken down, humble self." With that, nenothtu backed away into the corner he'd indicated, perching himself on a chair right IN the corner behind the table, where he could keep an eye on the room, the door in particular, and of course Silo.

Tibbs and BIAD joined him at the table, Tibbs to the side, but BIAD sitting down directly between neno and Silo. "BIAD, do YOU think it's wise to perch yerself in that spot, considering your caveat to me a minute ago?"

BIAD grinned - even wider than his normal maniacal grin - and replied cryptically "I like the light here."

Neno snorted. "Peacekeepers! You should've been in the UN!"

"The what?" Biad relied quizzically.

"The UN. 'United Nations' in Earth history. It was a group of suits from every nation on the planet tasked with preventing future wars - a miserable failure, I might add" he said with not a little rancor.

BIAD brightened then. "Oh! You mean the League of Nations!"

Nenothtu narrowed his eyes, wondering not for the first time at the time and space origins of this peculiar companion of his. "Yeah, that" he replied noncommittally. Turning to the little man, nenothtu said "Tibbs, I'm in a bit of a quandry here. That looks like Silo, and answers to 'Silo', bit I don't think it is Silo - not Silo as we know her, anyhow. I dunno where that gummed-up gadget dropped us out, or when it dropped us out, but whoever that is" here he indicated the direction of Silo with his chin "she doesn't seem to know us, so it might be best not to exhibit any familiarity with her yet. Still" and here he rubbed his ear for emphasis "there does seem to be a bit of a genetic connection between us. Flies off the handle spectacularly, don't she?"

Neno didn't know what passed for valuable on this planet. It was different everywhere, and he had no idea what a 'coin chip' was, so he upended to bag of coins he'd liberated from the bounty hunter onto the table. There were gold coins, copper coins, even lead coins. All sizes. materials, and descriptions. With any luck something there would pass for valuable here, and he could get that damned beer! He'd just let Silo figure out what she valued out of the pile.

Whenever she was ready, of course, neno thought, eying her from under hooded lids, watching for another flying mug.

~*~*~*~ Déjà vu! ~*~*~*~

‘Gnarly? Where are you!’ Silo whispered harshly out the kitchen door looking for the scrounger that never strayed far from the back porch of the bar. Disappointment gripped her when it was the big mongrel who slunk out of the shadows to join her and not Gnarly. Silo blew her breath in a frustrated hiss and turned her attention to the dog.

‘What are you still doing here?’ Silo asked but the dog didn’t reply only cocked his head and gazed at her with knowing eyes. Silo shook her head, ‘If Manko catches you you‘re better off dead.’ The stray let out a snarl when she mentioned the tax collector, but stayed put just off the porch. ‘Growl all you want now - it’s the last chance you’ll be getting once you’re pulling your weight in the hell-mines.’ Silo warned trying not to look in the ragged animals big mournful eyes.

Padding up the steps the dog pushed his nose into her hand and gave a low whine his tail thumping loudly against the banister. Pulling back her hand Silo tried to explain. ‘Look Dog. I can’t keep you. I can’t afford the dog tax but even if I could I don’t like furry things that get under my feet like wrinkles in an old...rug...’ She added her voice drifting off.

The same weightless feeling from earlier returned as strange disjointed pictures flashed through her mind. A large violet room with a space portal. Running her fingers through a shaggy rug in that same strange room. Talking to a carpet that changed colors and shivered under her feet. Shaking the images away Silo unscrunched her eyes and spoke to the dog, but the dog was gone. ’I drank more last night than I thought...’ She said to herself as her head righted again.

Startling her into a jump Gnarly shuffled around the corner and nearly bowled her over with the stink he brought with him. ‘Get in here!’ Silo grabbed the Cull by the shoulder of his ragged coat and pulled him in through the back door for privacy. ‘Great Gods you smell! What have you been doing!’ Silo pressed her bar cloth to her nose and blinked away the sting of tears that sprang to her eyes with the putrid smell wafting off his soiled clothes.

‘I been cleaning the privies oer’at the Financiers Miss Silo.’ Gnarly whined under his breath and kept his eyes on his dirty boots feeling shamed. No one much mattered to him but Miss Silo and her insults made his heart feel like an old rag clean rung out.

‘What the devil did that crook catch you doin?’ Her eyes narrowed at Manko’s poor handling of the old Cull. Gnarly might be a vagrant but was good to Silo in a strange rough way.

‘Mam, he said I didn’t pay my vagrancy fees but I tell you I did Miss Silo.’ Gnarly turned his heavy lidded eyes, one green, one yellow up from under his bushy brows looking both adoring and imploring at once when his hairy chin started to tremble. Silo felt bad for the creature but had little time for niceties.

‘Later I’ll let you wash up in my dish tub and we’ll give those rags a yours a rinse but right now I’ve got something I need you to do.’ Not daring to move any closer to the greenish brown slime oozing down his pants to drip on his boots Silo lowered her voice and held out her hand, her fist closed over something she motioned for Gnarly to take.

‘Here,’ Silo’s grip gave up a small object wrapped in a piece of torn rag, ‘take it to...to you know who.’ Silo ignored the Cull’s shocked expression. ’Ask her what it’s worth, where it came from.’ Gnarly nodded as his eyes grew rounder than ever. ’And Gnarly, I warn you, you’re sorry soul depends on you bringing this thing back to me and without getting caught by Manko or his thugs. I’m telling you here and now - if you do? I’ll sell you to the hell-mines myself!’ Silo added knowing the threat caused terror in all, even herself.

Gnarly went grayer than his hair, his eyes closed and for a moment she thought he was going to topple over right there in the pantry. It was time to add some honey to that threat she thought. ‘But if you do what I ask and you’re quick about it? I’ll give you free ale for...a week.’ Silo cringed knowing just how much that was going to cost her. Gnarly’s ale mug was known for it’s hole.

A sly green eye peaked up from under greasy hair and Silo cringed at the look she knew all too well - Gnarly wanted to dicker. ‘Your sayin I kin drink fer a week an...whaz else?’ The Cull’s hands squeezed together nervously never sure when it was safe to push his luck with Silo, and when not.

‘And you can have all the plate slops too.’ Silo’s stomach went oily remembering how much the Cull loved slops. It became an endless fight keeping him out of her swill bucket and forcing the old miscreant into eating good grub off a clean plate.

Gnarly’s eyes shown in delight. ‘It’s a deal Miss Silo!’ Gnarly spit on his hand and waited for Silo to do the same before they slapped hands briefly. ‘Just you remember,’ Silo shot her thumb over her shoulder, ‘it’s off to the hell-mines for you if...’ But the old Cull melted into the shadows and was gone before she could finish the threat.

Wiping her hand clean Silo turned back for the kitchen. She hadn’t had time to make more than break-knuckle bread and trays of warmed over side meat with eggs but every chair in the bar was full and all wanted a meal including the three outlanders who’d passed her the coin she‘d given Gnarly.

Ha! she thought to herself with a crooked smile. That Vandalian thought he’d be cagey and let her choose from amongst a litter of brick-a-brac he kept in a small bag at his waist but she was cleverer than he reckoned. Instead of grabbing for the first shiny coin-drop that sparkled like the sun Silo took her time and finally picked a small dull gray circle with strange markings and numbers as payment for the trios grub and ale. The Vandalian wouldn’t have any of it and tried to get her to exchange it for another, said the coin wasn't worth a ‘plug nickel’ but Silo insisted, her hand looping over her knife the look in her eye telling him she'd use it. No, it'd be a cold day in the hell-mines before she let any outlander fool her, a cold day indeed.

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The next half-hour was quiet in the tavern, the rusting sign outside showed a faded
Jester in medieval-Earth clothing stood reaching towards a off-white moon with grey
surroundings of a Carbiox countryside. The peeling text below proclaimed the Inn as
'The Killing Joke'

Nenothtu supped his beer from the chipped clay mug and waited for Tibbs to come up
with their next move.

A sea squall had come ashore and the downpour made the bar room seem cosy as the
Vithian called Tibbs sat half-snoozing, half-plotting at the beer-ringed table. Boy In A Dress
hummed quietly to himself as he wandered the empty room and every so often, he would
stop his travels to look at the small-framed pictures on the walls.

The images looked like sepia-coloured photographs, but the man/girl guessed the
pictures were drawings from a fairly-good artist. The contents of the renderings were of
areas around Uktena, the hermaphrodite could see the port with strange vessels in a sunset,
a display of the artificial moon looking down on a large Ferris Wheel-like structure and the
picture with broken glass distorting the image seemed to show the cliffs in the East with
dark holes and as the man/girl leaned closer, he espied bodies laid around some the
entrances.

BIAD nibbled his bottom lip and wondered if these were the 'Hell Mines'

"See anything interestin'?" the Vandal snipped into the shadows where BIAD stood and
placed his hat back on his head. Tibbs knew that this was the signal that Nenothtu needed
to move on and after stretching his dangling legs, he followed the Gunman's gaze.

"The piccys here show landscapes around the town, the detail is quiet good" BIAD chirped
and glanced over at his two companions, "Hell Mines and what looks like fairground" he
finished.

"You mean The Wheel of Truth" Silo stated and the three travellers looked to the doorway
behind the bar and saw the lilac-haired girl with the dirty apron leaning against the door
frame.

Neno still struggled with the uncanny feeling of the girl from the Yydryl's double and over
the rim of the ale mug, he watched the shapely form move towards Boy In A Dress.

"That's one of Manko's toys... a way of seeking a verdict of Jevonah"
Silo drew a large 'X' across her chest and kissed the finger that had performed the ritual.
BIAD smiled kindly as Silo neared him and with a dirt-rimmed fingernail, she tapped the
thin glass covering of the painting.

"When the town was growing up and the Grays had agreed to allow us to trade here,
the predecessor of Manko decided to leave it to God to decide whether an individual
should be taxed"

Nenothtu's eyebrows raised slightly at the insane idea, but kept his tongue still, Silo
continued with her tourist information.
"The last one who was strapped to the cursed contraption came back as ash and crispy
bacon... it's a guaranteed death sentence" Silo said and pretended to spit at the wooden
floor.

BIAD nodded as the girl spoke and waited a couple of seconds before he asked "and this
one?" a red-painted fingernail pointed towards the broken-framed picture of the cliffs.
Silo's face twisted with hatred and hissed "I keep meaning to toss that one in the trash
cans -out back..." a wringing of hands began as she continued.

"You Outremers 'll do better to steer clear of that place... the Hell Mines are also a place
where Death resides"

The sea storm tossed a gust of wind down the street outside The Killing Joke and Nenothtu
noticed the small-framed girl shiver, whether it was the cold air that had sneaked in or the
thoughts of the Hell Mines, he didn't know.

It was time to get moving, the tall man decided and stood up.

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Gnarly stood at the entrance to the Canyon and waited for the Gray Crone of The Winds,
the vagrant's smell had drawn Buzzard Flies and the drone of their three-inch wings drowned
out any sound of the decrepit woman's approach.

"You've done well foul-creature" the wrinkled grey-skinned alien hissed and as she came
around from the outcrop, the flies fled in a cloud.

The Crone's dark eyes scanned the the taller being's appearance and a toothless smile
cracked across the hagged face "you truly represent the finest of your kind" came the voice
from a tomb and followed it with a phlegm-soaked chuckle.

The Crone known as Mucklebones moved closer to the quivering humanoid with a grace of
a younger female, she prided herself on her lithe composure. The green poncho that hung
from her skinny shoulders showed strange designs and rune marks of another time and
Gnarly was sure a curse was placed on whomever read them.

He marked a 'X' across his chest quickly, but didn't kiss his finger.
The town's tramp stood with sloping shoulders and promised himself he wouldn't look into
those terrible eyes, his thoughts clambered and tripped in his dirt-grimed head.

Then Silo's voice soothed his fears "... And Gnarly, I warn you... your sorry soul depends on
you bringing this thing back to me..." and the cleaner of Manko's latrine remembered the rag-
wrapped object in his hand.
Gnarly's green eyes focused on the task of revealing the coin to the Witch and his filth-coated
hand shook as opened the cloth.

"Silo asked for your wisdom..." Gnarly muttered softly "... she wished you to see this"
Mucklebones sucked in a breath through her flappy lips and eyed the flat dull disc, she had
seen one of them before. "Where did the trollop get such a gift?" the old woman snapped
and snatched at the nickel, Gnarly's face went fish-white as he saw the long snaggled nails
on the alien's reaching hand. "Tell me Cully or I'll cut off that dangly-thing yer' piss from" she
hissed.

The vagrant gulped and staggered backwards, the coin tumbling into the dust and the thought
of being ate by this monster seemed more and more real.
"There were three strangers came into town..." Gnarly blurted out "... a Vithain, a tall man
with off-world weapons and a creature that was a woman -but isn't one"

The eyebrow without a wart rose with an interest at the report and the man who stank dared
a weak smile.
"Tell me more, my sweetness" Mucklebones said softly and shuffled to lean on the wall of
the ravine.
Gnarly gulped again and showed with squinted eyes that he was concentrating.

"The tall one, seems to be a fighter, they call him Nenothtu and..." Gnarly's eyes widened has
the hag's head suddenly lifted, "he's called WHAT?" she screamed and raced towards the
skinny waster. "TELL ME!" she demanded and slapped the poor Gnarly across the face.
At the same time, the old alien at grabbed the dirt-soaked rag that doubled as a shirt and
stopped the man from falling backwards.

"He's a V...Vandal, Missy... that's all I know" came the whining voice of the terror-striken
Gnarly "Silo wanted to know where the coin is from"

The Witch released the scruffy man before her and turned to sit back against the cliff wall.
Muckles muttered to herself and rubbed a trinket that dangled from her bone-stick wrist.
"Tell her it's a coin of a realm, tell her it's from faraway... and tell her to steer clear of this
one" she rasped, the last words were smeared with a coldness.

A Rock Cur howled from far off and Gnarly suddenly became aware of the lateness of the
day. Rain clouds seem to be racing in from the ocean to his left and he pondered if he was
going to get a 'Jenovah wash' again.

"The woman who isn't..." Muckles said slowly "... does it have eyes?" the old bitch's stare
turned Gnarly to stone, his voice trembled the answer.
"He wears a red dress and he has no eyes...yes Miss" the dirty man said weakly to the devil
-woman, Muckles nodded sagely and rubbed her silver chin.

"Tell Silo to get Manko to burn this creature as a Warlock, it brings bad luck to the town"
the answer came and the wild dog howled again as if in agreement.

Gnarly nodded as well and shuffled over to pick the nickel from the dust, and leaning to
pluck the small disc he saw the ominous shadow drop across the ground.
Urine surged into his filthy underwear at the dawning of thoughts of being eaten and the
tramp just let it flow.

"Please Miss, I'm only the messenger... please" Gnarly begged and felt his knees buckling
beneath him, stars spun across his vision as his ass hit the canyon floor.
Mucklebones stooped and to pick up the coin from the dirt and at the same time, glanced at
the man who had now sitting up with a look of dread on his dirty face.

Muckles looked down into the darkness of her hanging poncho and crooned "why boy....
were you gettin' yer' self a peek?" The Crone of The Glooms stood erect and ran her
fingers down her sides, the act was erotic and repulsive at the same time.

Gnarly had seen what lay in the gloom of that poncho and thought of those hanging wrinkled
breasts would haunt him for years to come, but a faint hint of hope was felt as he saw the
coin was still on the ground.

"You're a fine one, takin' advantage of a lady -like that..." the Witch said lightly and stepped
closer to the prone Gnarly, her evil head tilted like a school girl from Hell "... and here we are,
out here all alone"

The fear he'd felt when accepting the beatings from Manko's men when he had raided the
stable stores two winters ago and the terror he'd endured at the time he was chased and
caught by one of those floating machines that looked for the magic moon, were nothing now,
when laid against what the Crone could do to him, it was said she kept souls in preserve jars.
Gnarly whispered a prayer to himself and awaited his fate.

"So how about it, lover?" Muckles cooed and reached for the hem of her poncho, Gnarly
gulped for the third time.
What the wretched creature saw -Gnarly would never repeat until the time on his deathbed
and even then, only to Silo he warrented.

Mucklebones flapped the poncho above her head and in her best alluring voice, she called
"come and get it, boy" and that's when Gnarly grabbed the nickel and fled.

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The rain gave in about an hour later and the air outside The Killing Joke felt fresh and
clean to Tibbs, he breathed in with an easy smile beneath his beard. Nenothtu had
pulled another cigar from his pocket and enjoyed a different kind of vapour.

The sign above them intrigued Boy In A Dress, he hadn't give it any notice when they
had first arrived, but now it seemed to hold the man/girl's interest.

Silo had gone back into the kitchen to continue her chores for dinner time. The Tax Men
usually came in from their damned collectings, along with the occasional Smoke-Watcher.
Nenothtu had eyed the girl as she had slipped away into the gloom of the back room and
though for many men, amorous thoughts would have dogged her leaving, but Neno had
other ideas in mind. How had this come to pass? How can Silo be here in a time before?
They had left the unconcious girl in her healing pod... he would ask Tibbs later about
all this.

"What do you see, BIAD?" Tibbs asked and stepped down from the stoop, the rutted
street-mud squelched underfoot.
The squall had moved on, but a strong breeze still wandered occasionally up the Main
street of Uktena and the bar sign creaked rustily everytime.

BIAD scanned the image of the Jester reaching for the moon and for the first time, he
saw that the satellite wasn't the artificial one that the Grays had placed above eons ago to
control the tides, This was a crescent-shaped planetoid.

"It's a map" Boy said softly and stood on his tip-toes to scrutinise further.
"Aw damn it BAID, yer' skirt is ridin' up again" Neno moaned and turned to look towards
the distant cliffs, the Gunman knew the mines were out there somewhere.

The hermaphrodite blushed and pulled his dress hem down "sorry Neno" he mumbled,
but kept kept his focus on the tavern sign.
Tibbs's smile remained and softly he said "go on, what else?" the small man scratched his
beard and glanced over at back of Nenothtu.

BIAD went on.
"I see a Fool reaching for a crescent-shaped moon above a darkened countryside, the
Fool is smiling, but not looking at his goal" the long fringed-covered face showed no emotion...
or eyes as BIAD scoured the image for clues.

"He's looking at the high cliffs and his other hand is closed... as if he's holding something"
he mumbled and then lowered his heels back into the mud, there seemed to be nothing else.
"Look closer at the moon, BIAD" Tibbs advised and lifted the hem of his robes out of the dirt
as he closed the space between them.
"It's wrong... it shows craters that are symmetrical... it's not a real moon?" BIAD said and this
caused Neno to look back at his two companions.

"That's correct -Mr. Devil, what you see is a Tarot symbol of the Fool... or us, attempting to
grasp at a goal, but the clue is in the eyes" Tibbs announced and reached in his sacthel for
the large book found at the Pyramid.

The Vantine Kel Puldria held all the trues of the universe -it was said and now Tibbs relished
the opportunity to peruse it's rich pages.
The large leaves fluttered in the breeze as Tibbs scanned the text and then with a stubby
finger he pointed at something deep in the book "There!" the Vithian hissed.

The small man laid the large tome on the tavern's wooden step and read aloud what he
he saw.
"As history searches for it's end and lays it's tired bones at the feet of He Who Weeps For
It's Demise, there will be a chosen one who will foil it's plans to retire" Tibbs peered over
his spectacles at the easy-standing GunMan with cigar smoke drifting from his nostrils.

"The one will seek through the darkness and the light, he will look to Gods and Demons,
he will demand order in the heavens" Tibbs pondered whether he had chosen the wrong
paragraph.
The page fluttered over in the breeze as this thought tarried and the small Vithian's
eyebrows suddenly rose at what lay on the next leaf.

"No fool is he, for the moon can be held in his hands, along with the stars... if he knows
where to look" Tibbs spun back to where BIAD stood below the creaking sign and snapped
"where is the Fool looking, BIAD?"

Boy In A Dress shrugged at nobody and scanned the sign again, the store across the street
showed a faint glow of a lantern in it's window now.
"He's looking at the cliffs... he looking at the mines" the man/girl said and licked his lips as
he realised what the painted man was holding.

"This guy is holding a coin!" BIAD announce as he was sure he could partly see the ribbed
edge of a disc between the faded pink fingers.

Nenothtu stood away from the Tavern's doorway and tossed the cigar into the street, in
one swift movement he stood beside his companion eternally wrapped in woman's attire.
"It's the nickel I gave Silo... it's the coin she kept" the tall man hissed through his tight lips.

Tibbs carefully placed the book back into the satchel and without looking up he said "Well...
it's seems Silo is a vital piece in this puzzle... we're going to have to convince her to come with
us... and The Splitter is hidden in the Hell Mines"
Nenothtu's hooded eyes were looking towards the two Pinor-Ships that stood above the small
spherical houses near the port, there was a group of people there too.
"So we're headed for Hell, huh?" Neno muttered and rued the smoldering embers
of his cigar. The figures near the vessels seemed hunched in conversation.

"Do we just go or do yer' wanna reason?" the tall man in the wide -brimmed hat asked and
stepped into the main street.
Tibbs adjusted the heavy bag onto his shoulder and squinted in the direction Neno was looking.
"Well, an invite wouldn't go amiss" he said with resignation.

"My pleasure" Nenothu said softly and moved off towards the strangers.

~*~*~*~ Gnarly ~*~*~*~

Whistling nervously under her breath Silo attacked another mountain of bread dough. The rhythmic punching, kneading, turning the dough only to repeat the process was doing nothing to calm her nerves but it kept her from running to the backdoor every few moments looking for Gnarly. If that Cull didn’t get back with news soon she was going to...

‘Miss Silo,‘ came an ardent whisper from beyond the kitchen. Not wanting to rush it in case someone was watching Silo filled a mug with honey-mead from her personal cask and another of flat ale and sauntered to the door. She figured Gnarly needed a drink about now and she sure as hell did. A dusting of flour trailed behind her like a white shadow.

‘What’re you grubbing about back her for?’ Silo called to Gnarly just like any other night. The Cull looked up at her strangely, dug his finger into one ear and opened his mouth to protest until he spied the twin mugs bunched in Silo’s fists.

‘Well, you want a drink or not?’ Silo called with some patience though all she wanted to do was rip open his hand, take the coin and then wring every drop of information she could from the old vagabond’s head.

‘Yes Mam but I still gots gunk all over me...’ Gnarly rubbed his hands on his pant legs only spreading the stinking goo around in circles. Tired of waiting Silo pushed a mug his way, and none too gently.

Grabbing the mug before she spilled any more of the precious liquid Gnarly took a sip his eyes blinked wide in surprise. She’d mixed up the mugs and gave him some a her prized honey-mead! That meant she had plain old ale Gnarly figured his eyes going sly as he downed the the honey-mead before she realized her mistake and made him trade back. And she would too.

Smiling as she watched his mind work Silo drank the flat ale hoping the old Cull not only enjoyed her mead but also relished thinking he’d pulled a fast one on her. Her eyes open for trouble over the top of her mug Silo scanned the shadows. Nothing out of place, no one watching them, and if they were and she couldn’t see them? Well, she and ol’ Gnarly were doing nothing more than what they did most evenings.

‘So you going to pay for that you old goat?’ Silo snarled and waited for his mind to start to spin expecting him to begin to whine any second.

‘But yous said...’ There he goes, she thought and silenced him with a look sharp as her dagger. ’You ’pay’ me Gnarly by handing me back that coin I gave you and you better make it look like any other night you pay...’ Silo said into her mug but the Cull heard her. A light went on behind his eyes and he held out his hand.

Without looking at it Silo slipped the coin into her pocket and handed the rest of her ale to the vagabond and leaning easily against the banister she figured they looked no different than any other pair a misfits passing the time.

‘So what I want you to do now is to sit there on the stoop like you always do,’ Silo pointed to the step, ’And I don’t want to hear anything about the stink and mess.’ Waiting as he curled his thin bird like legs under him she cringed expecting his fragile bones to snap with the contortions. ‘Now, do your stuff you ol’Cull, tell me everything.’ Silo nearly held her breath in expectation.

Listening to him repeat word for word his encounter with Mucklebones Silo wondered how it was he could recount her speech word perfect, right down to mimicking the pitch of the old hags cackle, but he couldn’t string more than a few words of original thought together on his own. Silo shuddered hearing Mucklebones voice come from the Cull but she didn’t dare interrupt him by demanding he stop. With her ears on Gnarly and her eyes trained on the shadows Silo pulled her knife using the tip to scrape dried bread dough from under her fingernails. She liked the way it made her nails look clean and white instead of dirt caked. She thought of the hermaphrodites long blood red nails and sighed.

"Tell Silo to get Manko to burn this creature as a Warlock..." Gnarly choked out the words, his eyes gone glassy the pupil of his yellow eye blown to black, but so shocked by his words Silo didn‘t notice.

‘She said what!’ Silo snarled and almost dropped her knife and didn‘t see Gnarly topple over onto the grass. Looking back over her shoulder into the bar afraid she’d spoken too loudly Silo lowered her voice. ‘And no, don’t repeat it again, I can’t bear it! Nobody deserves to die like that! No one!‘ She cried her eyes squeezed shut tight against the memories of other burnings. The screaming, the stink, the look on Manko’s face.

If Gnarly had been any other race but a Cull she’d of slit his throat for his lying but she knew better. The Cull was telling the truth, he couldn’t have lied if you’d promised him free beer for life. Gnarly for his part must have sensed her anger she thought, he‘d crawled out of kicking distance and lay huddled on the ground. Toeing him with her boot Silo sighed. She hadn’t meant to scare the old thing. Reaching in through the back door she grabbed a arm load of empty flour sacks and tossed them over the Cull. He might as well sleep it off here as anywhere else.

Forgetting Gnarly, Silo stepped over him in search of the three strangers. Rounding the corner to the front of the bar Silo was glad her knife was already drawn. By the looks of it she just might need it.

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The Galaxy Palace accepted the Patrol Ship's password and the Landing Berth's door eased
open slowly. A row of dull green lights flashed either side of the Bay that the clone-Light
Flayer wished it to park in. He'd done a twelve-hour shift and was looking forward to his
rest period.

Domen sucked in the last of his juice and wiped droplets from his chin-tentacles, The panel
before him showed how many life forms were on the craft and he noticed there was one
more than when it had embarked two hours ago.

Domen checked the corridor for his replacement and gurgled his annoyance at the empty
tunnel of blue light. The Palace corridors all had that terrible blue illumination and he had
often wondered why The Dark Lord had chosen a colour that made their skins look sickly.

'Clones acquire certain vitamins from this part of the spectrum' the Doctor who ran the
Nursery had told him, but now Domen was up to speed, he doubted that explanation.

The Patrol Ship vented it's exhausts and a squeaky voice came over the speakers.
"Patrol Six needing assistance with prisoner" the Guard requested and Domen thought
he heard a faint voice in the background shout "a curse on the lot of you bast..." and the
mic was keyed off.

Domen piped the message through to the Guard Room and then heard the steady footfalls
of his replacement. "You took your time" Domen hissed and carefully removed the head-set
from his bulbous head.

Treeb smiled at the comment and sat down in the recently-vacated seat of Domen, he was
already packing his meal boxes. "The Dark Lord reqested me... he's wondering why we lost
another Sky-Hook" Treeb said lightly and switched on the on-board cameras of Patrol Six.
Domen hit the glass window that looked out onto the Landing Area as Treeb pushed the chair
back with his taloned feet into him.

"What the...?" the tired Light Flayer hissed as his empty juice bottle rolled under the panel.
Treeb stood up -letting the chair spin on it's stand "Good Jevonah... what IS that?" he
snapped.
Domen stopped packing his bag and looked to where his shift-change was pointing, it was
truly horrifying.

Held between two guards was a struggling creature in a dirty-green poncho, her bare
skinny legs kicked out at the Flayers at either side and at times, Treeb and Domen could
see the animal's privates.

"This one's all yours" Domen said wearily and patted the shoulder of his friend lightly.
The blue lights flickered on as he stepped into the corridor and after untwisting his blow-
nozzle, Domen called over his shoulder "you never know... this one may know where that
contraption is... then we can get on with finding a home"

Treeb nodded to no one as he turned on the oxygen for the hanger and clicked off the image
of the horrid female Gray with the rage of a castrated Bollow. "That'll be the day" Treeb
muttered.

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Mucklebones looked at the beaded bracelet on her wrist and pondered her future,
the cell was as big as the latrine out at the back of 'The Albatross Morning' Store in
Uktena, the Witch had used it as a meeting place once.

"Squid-heads" the crone spat and fingered the object that rotated on the string...
a souvenir of Aztec -New Mexico on a faraway planet called Earth.

The tannoy called across the Galaxy Palace that somebody called Damar should prepare
a transporter and Muckles gazed up at the small holes in the wall where the sound came
from. The sounds of military hum-drum took her back to that terrible week in 1948...
1948 on Earth -that is.

The pilot was a novice, the crone-who-once-wasn't recalled, the way he struggled to
dodge the human's cursed radar gave him away as a 'Newbie' Muckles would have siezed
the controls, but her tube-partner convinced her that they would be alright.
The image of her lover's burnt body slumped over the visual-panel still haunted her in
her deepest sleep.

Then the pain came... the tests and the long nights in the hangers, Muckles pulled her
knees up tight at the memories and rocked quietly backwards and forwards.
The speaker crowed again and the Witch of the Winds sneered at the damned holes,
she hated technology.

"Vannevar Bush' Muckles muttered and the memories poured back like a flooded
ditch out in the Water-Fens, that was a name from the past -she thought.
A lot of time and a lot of space had 'gone-under-the-sands' since then -but her distrust
of 'U-mans' hadn't faded, Mucklebones shook her head at the thoughts of that time.

The door to the cell slid open and two Light Flayers in their smocks and holding their
'Burn-Bars' looked down at the rocking old Gray, the deep-lined scalp of the ancient
female seemed as if it belonged to a mummy. "Get up bitch... The Dark Lord desires
to see you" the guard on the left snapped, his tentacles twitched around his chin
and his 'doll-eyes' showed disgust.

The intense pain of the weapon from the guard on the right almost made Muckles
vomit, the room whirled as she stumbled to her feet. "Yer'll feel my foot up yer' arse
-if yer' try that again" the Muckles hissed as she leaned against the cell wall.
The guards parted and let the stale-smelling Gray shuffle out into the corridor.

The passageway seemed to be endless and the blue lighting made the Witch think
she was flying across a night sky... the thought of it made her smile inside as she recalled
the time her race came and rescued her from that blue planet -so long ago.
But her kind had lost their way now, technology is their God and searching the vast
reaches of space had lost their interest.
She was alone... and in a dangerous predicament.

Mucklebones steeled herself and straightend her poncho, she'd been in worse
situations than this.
"Yer' can tell yer' Lord and Master that he'll get no joy from this old body" she sneered
and cracked a screeching laugh at the thought, one of the gurads struck her in the
shoulder with the 'Burn-Bar' and snapped "move along Crone"

Mucklebones's mind raced for a plan of escape.

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