The Voyages of the Penelope and the Yydryl

.................................~ Letters From Abroad~.................................

"...But as you can see, the etheral plane doesn't always cooperate" Teddy said and sniffed
to show his contempt for the Otherside. Silo gave an imperceptible nod and looked back to
the ouija board.

The rain tapped the window as if wishing to join the strange meeting and though, Silo felt
that she was in a dream again, the surroundings spoke to her senses and assured the small
girl that this was real.

Teddy eyed the chocolate cake at the side of his companion and wondered if one day, he
would be able to actually taste it, dark memories of what the symbol meant forced his
button-eyes away from the deep-brown delicacy. "We can try again, if you wish?" he
offered and shunted his wooly-ass closer to the lettered-board.
Silo sighed and nodded once more.



It was the early hours of a Monday morning, daylight was still a couple of hours away
and Silo imagined that beyond the lace curtains and rain-flecked windows, the darkness
still prowled the streets and avenues of this 19th Century town. The girl with pretty sleek
lavendar hair envisioned flickering gas-lights revealing shadowed-shrouded wolves padding
softly along damp pavements.

Teddy felt the fabric of the ridiculous doll's dress and told himself that next time, his visit
would allow the confused Bi-Wraith to see him in a better light, maybe something in soft
leather, the bear smiled to himself and began the ritual.

"We are here to speak to those who know what lies ahead..." Teddy said solemnly and
placed his furry paw onto the tracer, Silo's pink finger alighted on the back of his paw and
trickles of fleeting images from the girl invaded his mind.
The flick of a horse's mane, the deep cold of a snow-ridden planet, the solitude of the
stars and the overwhelming love of a new-born... pictures fluttering like sparrow wings.

"...The great force that weaves through time and space, the power that holds the very
fabric of realities together, please help little Silo in her hour of need" Teddy asked softly.
Somewhere in the Park across the road, the screech of an owl came, Teddy knew that
once again, he didn't have much time left.

The tracer moved towards the letters with a slow pace, the single candle shuffled the
tracer's shadow in tandem. Silo sucked in a breath and watched the words being spelled
out.

'S-H-I-P N-E-E-R-S H-E-A-L...' the small smooth-edged object told the bear and the girl,
a lowing-wind outside implied that tomb-smelling ghosts were exalting the ceremony
in the child's bedroom.

"Neers?" Silo whispered and glanced at the brown toy across the ouija board and saw
Teddy's brow crease. "I think it went to the letter 'D'... it was just near the 'R'" he said
without meeting her unblinking eyes.

'O-R-E-G-O... N-E-W-M-A-N 'the tracer announced with staccato-spelling, Silo mouthed
the words as they were revealed. The final words form 'beyond-the viel' came with
rushed-jerky movements. 'A-R-R-O-N R-O-D N-E-N-O M-U-S-T'

"Who or what is 'Orego'?" she muttered to herself and Teddy saw the opportunity to
extend his plan.
"It's a small place called Oregon in a land far-far away..." the blanket-stitched mouth said
"...someone called 'Newman' must go there" he added and withdrew his paw from the
tracer.

The rain came again and tapped unknown Morse-words of it's own on the pane as Silo
thought about the information. A full minute passed before she spoke again.
"Then... what is a 'Aaron Rod and what is a Neno'?" she said with a puzzled-look at the
knee-tall Teddy Bear that always visited her in times of doubt.

Teddy, the unwanted-confidant of Silo's subconcious, the parasite that was there when
the woman who had birthed the Prince of the Rootak, the skulking invader that had
survived the painful pokings and proddings of the cursed Ship whilst Silo was in her
Repair Pod -showed a kind face and explained the reasons among the ouija-runes.

(Continued Below)

(From Above)

"I once heard that in a great book of Sages and wisemen, there is reference to a magical
staff or stick" Teddy said quietly and grunted in his standing. The daylight was almost on
the horizon and he didn't like being caught out by the starkness of day.

"They say that this staff belonged to a religeous man who could perform miracles with
this object" he added and lumbered towards the gnarled and paint-peeling toy box, he
was genuinely weary.

"The man was called Aaron and he hid the staff in a thing called an 'Ark'... a box of some
sort" Teddy muttered as he creaked open the lid. Other toys peered from container as he
struggled to clamber in.

An action-figure with a serious brow stood next to a green-alien with alarmed-eyes on
stalks, a black-haired Gonk grinned manically from under a deep fringe and a dirt-smudged-
faced doll waited near a hat-dented Wizard from the tales of yore.

Silo wondered who owned such strange toys, but before she sould ask, Teddy spoke again.
"I think this Neo-character would appreciate such a gift" were Teddy's last words and
the lid closed with a muffled thud.

Silo carefully picked up the candlestick and reached for the slice of chocolate cake, the
sponge looked dry and some of the sweet-brown coating had pooled on the small plate.
It would not make a nice breakfast -she thought and put the plate on top of the toy box.
"That's for you, Teddy... enjoy" Silo chirped and straightened her dress, the grown-ups
were moving about in the next room.

'The Ship needs to heal, a new-man must leave for Oregon and someone called 'Neno'
needs a magic wand?' she pondered as -with wavering shadows around her, she cupped
her hand to candle flame and went to meet the day.

"Neno... Teddy meant 'Neno" Silo said to herself as she passed a discarded map of some
sorts, a child's plan to a hidden-secret she guessed vaguely and focused on what to have
for breakfast.

Shiny button-eyes in the gloom of the toy-box tracked her passage.

* ~ * Healing * ~ *

‘Come away from there.’ Jeni’s hands shook changing the herbal bandages wrapped around Silo’s ribs and her sister’s hanging around the window made her even more nervous.

‘But they’re still out there.’ Moriah spied from inside the hut, ‘All three of them.’ Moriah stared on raising a corner of the rough hide flap covering the hole cut in the side of their hut a little higher.

‘They’ve got Flint out there too?’ Jeni shook her head incredulous at the way the boy was allowed to run wild.

‘Kind of.’ Moriah muttered grinning when the boy startled from the bushes and sprinted up the muddy trail into the dark.

‘What do you mean ‘kind of‘?’ Jeni asked absent mindedly. Resenting she was not allowed to care for him her thoughts were all for Adam who’d been taken away to the hut of the Tender, a healer of sorts.

‘Flint was trying to sneak up on the other two,’ Moriah reported, ’then he just kind’a split.’

‘The boy’s got more sense than the other two put together.’ Jeni sighed. She wouldn’t admit it to save her life but Argus’s constant presence made her feel safe. Both warriors presence she corrected herself wondering if the constant cascade of rain on the hut wasn’t addling her own wits.

‘They’re leaving.’ Moriah spun from the rough window robbing a fur from one of the beds and tossed it around her shoulders. Bundling up the soiled bandages Jeni cast off on the floor Moriah grimaced and stuffed them in a woven sack. They’d been replaced daily with clean ones but Moriah was looking for any excuse to leave the hut.

‘Where’re you going?’ Jeni looked up from tending Silo her eyes all suspicion.

‘Can’t you smell these things? Gawd they’re gross!‘ She snorted a breath out her nose, ‘I’m gonna take ‘em out to the washtub.’ Moriah rolled her eyes wondering when Jeni would stop treating her like she was four.

‘Do it fast and come right back with some clean water. Silo’s getting restless and needs more of this medicine.’ Jeni’s voice melted behind her and Moriah ran out into the night after the boy.

‘Jeni, she’s just having another one of her bad dreams. You know what the Tender said.‘

‘Yes, I remember what the Tender said,’ Jeni sighed, ‘The very beautiful Tender. The very female Tender. The one who’s with Adam when I should be.’ She sighed to no one. Moriah had already left the hut.

* ~ * Banshees * ~ *

‘Want some help?’ A voice asked from behind Flint. Startled Flint exploded in a shower of kindling sending the armload flying the pieces landing scattered around his feet splashing his legs with muddy water.

‘Now look what you made me do!’ Flint swore spinning round and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw who’d scared him into dropping all the fire wood. It was her. And If anything Moriah looked prettier wearing a blanket of soggy silvertip fur.

‘Oh, Hi. Sorry, I didn't know it was you.’ Blushing hotly he turned away and began loading his arms with fresh dry wood from the pile tucked under the eves of the hut.

‘Where’s your brothers?’ Moriah asked suddenly shy.

‘They'll be here any minute,’ Flint nearly whined knowing he’d lost all chance of getting the fire lit in time. Then he brightened. ‘But, you can come in and wait for them can‘t you?’ Flint knew he wouldn’t get switched with the girl around.

‘Sure why not. I’ll help.‘ She smiled reaching past the boy and began filling her own arms with wood.

Moments later when Argus and Quiet entered the hut they found Flint standing over Moriah who lay crumpled on the floor under a thin beam of moonlight illuminating a dark pool of blood leaking from her skull. Flint, shaking like in the grips of the ague clutching a piece of kindling ready to hit her again if she moved.

‘God’s bones!’ Quiet hissed grabbing Flint to restrain him. Argus quick behind him bent to check the girl’s head running red with blood a thick puddle of the stuff already congealing between her cheek and the cold dank floor.

‘Flint.’ Argus whispered in dread, ‘have ya killed the lassie?’ For once Argus sounded truly frightened.

‘She aint a...lass.’ Flint’s gut wrenched, ‘She’s a...’ Twisting out of Quiet’s grip Flint threw himself at Argus sobbing. Quiet refused to let him go wrenching him back by the scruff this time holding the boy to his chest.

‘Now lad! It was just all that foolish talk a banshees that got ya thinkin’ wild.’ Argus could have cut his own tongue out.

Flint’s terror stricken voice stopped him. ‘No! You don’t understand! I saw her!’ he gasped to catch a breath, ‘She made fire! With her hand!’

‘Why you young jackanapes!’ Argus began to boil, ’A Lucifer’s only bit of sulfur on a stick? We use them all the time instead a goin’ to the smithy fer a piece a coal when our hearths go out.’ Again Flint cut him off.

‘NO! She did it!’ The boy shook with real fear refusing to let go of the stick he clutched in his hand like a club.

‘Argus, the boy knows what a Lucifer is.’ Quiet whispered, ’And somethin’ scared him near enough ta wet himself. Do you think the girl's, that they're...?‘ Quiet’s unfinished words hung between them in the air a moment before Argus swore.

‘Lemme have a look.’ Argus’s boot made a soft scratching sounds swishing back and forth across the dirt floor. Retrieving something from the shadows Argus fumbled with the object until with a clink of metal and the whir of the thumbwheel the room glowed with light.

All the color leeched from Quiet’s face, even in the soft glow of the lighter he looked skeletal. When Flint burrowed his head in Quiets chest sobbing Argus let the metal top close over the flame with a slick snap.

‘Quiet, you know what this means.’ Argus said dully handing over the lighter. Quiet accepted it, examined it in the moonlight his whole body going taught before dropping the thing in his pocket.

‘Let’s get the girl back to her sister.’ That a long talk would follow between the brothers and Jeni went unsaid.

Sending Flint for more water and bandages Quiet and Argus wiped as much blood as they could from the girls face and neck with their hands before wrapping her in a blanket ready to carry her into the night.

* ~ * Who, what and when? * ~ *

‘Look you!’ Jeni rose up on her tiptoes but reached no higher on Argus than his chin. ‘We didn’t ask you to rescue us and we sure as hell didn’t know you were bringing us here!’ She yelled fist raised and ready to belt him if he asked once more who they were and where they came from.

‘Argus, quit baiting the girl and let her tend to her sister.’ Quiet didn’t mind their arguing as long as they kept it to a dull roar. Whatever was going on tehy needed to figure it out and keep it quiet as long as possible.

‘As for you? I don’t need your help!‘ When Jeni spun on Quiet he actually flinched, ‘And I’m NOT a GIRL!” She shrieked frustrated beyond patience.

‘That’s it lass, ye gone too far going all banshee on ma brother.‘ Grabbing Jeni from behind Argus covered her mouth with his hand pulling her up hard against his chest.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you..’ Quiet’s widened then crinkled at the corners.

‘You stay out of this!’ Argus roared and at the irony Quiet just shook his head.

Dipping his chin to whisper in Jeni’s ear Argus tried to ignore the sweet perfume of her hair. It distracted him from the fighting. ‘Yer right there lass, you’re no girl! Yer a howling she devil that needs to learn to...’ Argus sucked in his lips. His eyes crossed. Then teared up.

‘She bit you didn’t she.’ Quiet outright laughed his expression wholly I-told-you-so.

‘She bit me!’ Incredulous Argus eyeballed Quiet like it was his fault but didn’t move his hand away from Jeni’s mouth. Either she still had the fat of his thumb between her teeth or he was afraid what she’d bite next if he let her go. When Jeni’s eyes began to bug out Quiet interceded.

‘Put her down Argus or you’ll squish her.’ Quiet’s chuckle worked. Argus let the girl’s feet touch the floor - after gaining a promise she wouldn’t scream if he removed his hand.

‘Bloody monster.’ She spat stomping to the bedside where Quiet had continued bathing Moriah’s forehead with clear cool rainwater.

‘Did ya hear that brother? I detected a wee bit o’ the highlands in her voice just then didn’t you?’ Argus chuckled and sucked against the throbbing in his palm.

‘I’ll probably get the rabies!’ Jeni spat again then rolled her own eyes. She was beginning to talk like them.

‘Now lass you just sit there and take care of yer bonny sister and let me...apologize.’ Argus strutted like he’d won their argument. It made him feel magnanimous.

Eyes narrowed in disbelief Jeni did as she was told but only to hide her face, with her complexion she was she knew she looked like hell when she blushed.

‘Now Jeni-girl I do regret getting under yer hide and not explaining myself correctly,’ Argus began, ‘but ya have to understand. If yer who we think ye are? We’ve got trouble.’ Only just realizing the truth of it himself Argus’s eyes clouded. Jeni noticed.

‘Then you’d better tell me - again - who you think we are.’ Seeing the fear in his eyes leeched the steam from her temper. And Moriah? What was she doing feuding with the big oaf when her sister lay unconscious. Jeni’s shoulders began to sag.

Giving in to listening but not wanting to fight Jeni turned to Quiet. ‘Maybe you’d better tell me this time.’ Jeni’s eyes pleased with Quiet’s over Moriah‘s tiny body tucked under a mountain of furs on the cot. Quiet couldn‘t help notice she didn’t look at him the same way as she did Argus. Maybe his brother had a chance with the girl after all.

‘I’ll try.’ He promised, ‘but first we all need something to eat and drink, this is going to be a long night.’ Quiet handed the bathing rag to Jeni patting her shoulder as he rose.

‘Flint, if you’ll go to our hut,’ Quiet began instructing the boy what to bring back. Watching Flints eyes dart from Quiet to the door and back again Argus saw the boy begin to shake and lay a hand on his shoulder.

‘I’ll go with the lad. I want to...check on a few things anyway.’ Argus gave Quiet a knowing look. Quiet nodded in return.

‘What was that all about?’ Jeni wondered when they left.

‘Argus is tryin’ to save the boy’s pride a bit...‘ Quiet started.

‘You know that’s not what I mean.‘ Jeni’s eyebrow jumped up in a quirk so like his brothers Quiet would have laughed if the situation was not to grim.

‘Argus went to walk the settlement and see who’s about.’ Quiet figured it was best not to lie and added, ‘If the Elders have any idea what’s been going on in here we’ll have to leave. Fast.’ That he’d already made the discussion to take the girl and her sister to safety was a given. Argus would never allow any of them to fall under the hand of the Agency and where Argus went so did Quiet.

Jeni thought immediately of Adam her hand catching at her throat. Quiet knew what the girl was thinking and didn’t blame her.

‘Jeni listen. If anyone finds out what your sister did?’ He paused and still confused Jeni opened her mouth to question him but Quiet stopped her. Holding up a hand for patience he tried again, ‘Jeni, what Argus was trying to tell you, what I‘m trying to tell you? Your lives could vera well be in danger. Danger a the worse kind.’

‘Over my sister? And a Lighter? That’s absurd!’ Jeni’s eyes leaked the first tears he’d seen that night. ‘I mean, why?‘ She quickly backhanded the tears away before they fell. Quiet silently applauded her courage.

‘Let’s wait until Argus and Flint get back. Then I’ll explain.‘ Quiet smiled dimly handing her a fresh cold rag for Moriah’s face. When the girl stirred and moaned under his hand the pall that hung between them lightened a fraction.

‘She’ll be alright now.’ Quiet whispered but her newborn instinct made Jeni want to ask him for how long?

................................~Peace In Our Time~................................

The planet known as Khalamzadar IV turned and The Yydryl looked down on the passing
days, it seemed peace was vacationing in the area for a change.

Nenothtu took to wandering the small town of Bisley Deeps and after enduring the
praises and welcomes of it's child-sized residents, he could usually be found sitting
with Margot in the well-lit square and enjoying a strange coffee-like brew.



"A man could get used to this..." the Gunman quipped as he nodded to the 'cafe' owner
for a refill, Margot's own cup of steaming liquid sat untouched on the wicker table.
"...Maybe it's time ah' hung up my pistol and settled down" he whispered and watched for
any reaction from the woman across from him.

The android known as Margot seemed to be endowned with flushing capabilities and the
Vandal enjoyed the reddening cheeks of her embarrassment.

The quiet moment came to a halt as a small figure appeared at Neno's left "you honour me
with your presence, Sire and here is your..." a calloused hand stayed the smooth-skinned
midget holding the large mug. "No need to keep bangin' on about it, ah' thank yer' fur the
Java" the lop-sided grinning man rasped and took the coffee.

Kaston -the cafe owner bowed slightly and began to turn away when his all-black eyes
widened at another thought. "It will be quite a celebration this evening, The setting of the
legendary Caliburn is something my people have looked to for centuries" he said softly
and slipped away inside. The small 'Bislian' had other customers... paying ones, to attend
to also.

Nenothtu frowned his confusion to the statement and yet inside, he felt a weariness that
he'd rarely recognised in the past, a mid-day snooze was calling him. The Vandal had once
heard that the Vikings from Earth's past used to see the 'noon siestas' as a time when Kin
-spirits wished to speak to you, a call from the Otherside.

Neno raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips at the thought, he was too-long in the tooth
for such flights-of-fancy.
"But what of your friends...? What will become of The Yydyrl and the crew?" Margot asked
with a soft tone, she was watching four Bislians clear up the remains of a wall that had come
down when The Starwolf had fired on the infestation of zombies.
The unsightly husks had gratefully been disposed of earlier.

Nenothtu fished in his breast-pocket for a stogie he had put-by and sighed to himself, the
idea of splitting up the group that had somehow attached itself to him was a Gordian Knot
he wasn't looking forward to tackling.

That was when Tibbs came around the corner of the square's dilapidated fountain with a
smile on his fuzzy-face.

(Continued Below)

(Continued From Above)

Boy In A Dress shuffled for more comfort on the long bed and turned another page of one
of the journals that Neno had discovered in Rebo's final resting place, the cracked-covered
book was fascinating.



....Because of the evil that men do. For centuries, parts of our world struggled with
raising crops and bringing food to it's residents. And yet, on the otherside of Khalamzadar,
they enjoyed technologies that kept it's people warm and well-fed.
BIAD twisted his lips as he recalled a similair time on Old-Earth, it seems that no matter
where you go, nothing changes.

The Starwolf ticked and growled as it ran checks on it's system, Nenothtu and Margot
were enjoying the freedom of the subterranean town and Tibbs was busying himself
going through Kershner's private Chapel. BIAD knew something was irking the Vithian,
but doubted the little-old man would impart anything until he'd tracked it down.

And what of our Leaders...? which way will they turn to deal with their 'one-world'
concept? There is a book, somewhere among the many that I found on my travels to this
lofty resting-place, this book talks to the soul about moving off-world and seeking a
so-called God that roams the universe and holds all the answers.
I seriously doubt that the 'Powers That Were ever' browsed this particular tome.

Boy In A Dress smiled to himself and looked out of the large cockpit window, that doubted-
saviour DID come to Khalamzadar and brought those answers via this craft's ammuniton.
The Starwolf beeped in it's diagnostics as if to agree with the hermaphrodite.
Licking a red-nailed finger, BIAD read on.
.....................................

"The man that BIAD killed was a fool... I agree, but what he was attempting could have had
devastating effects in other areas" Tibbs said earnestly and struggled to put the heavy book
onto the ratan table. Nenothtu sighed and twisted his face, couldn't the stunted-bugger
just leave things alone? For once, couldn't the Vithian just accept the current peace?

Tibbs stared over his small spectacles at the brooding Gunslinger, he knew that he had not
told him and his red-dressed friend the whole truth and he now believed that this hadn't
been a good move. He would repair that during the Caliburn ceromony.

It was among the smoldering ruins of Kershner's mansion that he found what he and the
Committee had feared the most, a simple book that held a false title.



"That Kershner-fellow believed this..." Tibbs said slowly and pointed at the dust-smeared
relic next to Margot's untouched beverage "...was The Cuspar True, he even wrote the
words inside the cover!" the Vithian exclaimed with raised tones.

Nenothtu plucked his wide-rimmed hat from it's place at the leg of his chair and jammed
it on his head, Margot knew her man was making a statement regarding not listening to
the little man's rantings and getting up to leave, but Tibbs reacted in a way that surprised
the couple and some of the passing Bislians.

He slammed his fist on the table. He spilt Margot's coffee and sent a plume of dust into
the air from the ravaged book.

"LISTEN TO ME...!" Tibbs roared "HE WAS UNKNOWINGLY MAKING A TIME WEAVE!" and
offered a stern look to back-up his anger. For a little guy, he carried it off quite well.
The Vandal moved his cold eyes to meet the ancient ones glaring back and it took nearly
ten seconds to stare Tibbs down. A record -Margot guessed later.

"Ah' don't know what yer' talkin' about and even if what yer' say is important, the game
is over... that fat guy is dead and stone was tossed away" Nenothtu said softly and yet
menace laced every word, he didn't need Tibbs' paranoia right now.

"The Diamond has gone, this planet is safe and if yer' wanna get yer shorts-in-a-wad about
something, then start thunkin' about how we're gonna run Khalamzadar"

Tibbs sighed through his beard and nodded once, without another word to the hard-faced
Gunman, the robed Time-Mechanic dragged the book off the table and bowed towards the
female android. "Forgive my behavior" he said softly and took his leave, his small shadow
shuffled across the town square.

"They ain't gettin' the sword either!" Nenothtu shouted at the back of the pain-in-the-ass
Vithian, 'BIAD should have left him in that freakin' compound' -Neno thought to himself
and instantly felt bad for thinking it.
"Dammit!" the tall man hissed.

-------------------Brains & Buckets... And A Touch Of Scourer-------------------

Back in Earth's Twentieth century, there were some who saw reality as a mere
mathmatical equation, a set of numbers on paper that made perfect sense and yet,
had no 'physical' presence.... no touchy-feely stuff. Professor Charles Shaw wasn't
one of those people.

The eminent scholar had discussed time, space and all it's possibilities with fellow
professionals within the department at Los Alamos and discovered that the subject
tended to be 'skirted' around, it was an elephant in the room that made one look at
the floor and admire the carpet.

Boy In A Dress' potential as a prototype soldier, a being that could withstand terrible
temperatures, extreme pain and have the capabilities to despatch the enemy without
question, that was the focus.

The strange Military man with the chomped cigar and clipped moustache was back
and there'd been rumours that this brooding Major was moving the tests to Utah,
Professor Shaw wondered how approachable the man in the shiny-boots and shiny
medals was.

Theoretical-quantum physics was still in it's infancy and the the fact that the smiling
eyeless humanoid could 'phase' in-and-out of this reality -seemed unimportant to the
the young men in lab coats that ran the tests on BIAD. When General Ramey 'poo-pooed'
Shaw's request to investigate BAID's unscheduled 'jaunts' the Professor had made
a silent vow to one-day, work on the subject with more vigour.
Especially after Ramey's ignorant response what potential there could be to help the
world in it's current climate.

"Listen Doc, this thing you've discovered may help us win wars that you haven't even
dreamt about..." the growling Major had snipped "...If we can duplicate this creature,
and ship 'em out, then maybe when the Ruskies finally roll over, then we'll look at
your time-reality-thing" The cloud of cigar smoke doubled as a symbolic curtain and
Charles went back to gassing and freezing the innocent Man/Girl that looked on him
as a Father.

It was late-February of 1960 and the world had gone crazy again.
The Russians had tossed two dogs and a few mice into space, four black kids had
succeeded in getting equal rights and a decent seat at a Woolworth's lunch counter
and England's Prime Minister -Harold MacMillan had made his 'Winds Of Change'
speech in regards of freeing-up some of South Africa's territories.
This latter-piece of news came from an odd-looking new guy that cleaned the hall-floors
and swabbed the lavatories, an Englishman called Jenkins.



"Aye it's a bugger alright..." the balding Maintenance Man chuntered as he mixed his eye
-stinging bleach into a bucket of hot water. "...My mate told me that we're slowly chopping
the Commonwealth up until there'll be nothin' left! Maybe it's time that folk went there own
way"

The sound of slopping water and heavy-breathing accompanied the Janitor's view on how
the world was changing, and still the intruding voice into Charles' studying went on.
"You know Doc, in another time and place... it could be that one day, all countries will
live in a free-will society" Jenkins offered and went back to whispering sweet-words of
encouragement into the metal container.

The Professor nodded out of politeness and focused on his notes, BIAD had reported feeling
a tingling in his chest area during his time in the Freezer and Shaw pondered the idea that
the hermaphrodite was internally manufacturing an anti-freeze.
The Limey grumbled on.

"I see Elvis is comin' home from Germany, huh?" he asked as he began to soak the mop
into the dubious cleaning concoction. Jenkins had pulled a tubular container from his
dungaree side-pocket and sprinkled it's contents onto the surface, the gaudy words
proclaimed the contents were 'Vim'



Charles Shaw lifted his spectacles and rubbed the red marks on either side of his nose, a
Tuesday morning in a top-secret facility was hardly the time to debate current-affairs of
so-called Rock 'n Roll musicians.
"I don't mean to be awkward, but I am trying to work here" he said slowly without looking
up from his papers. Jenkins muttered a sorry and moved off to devour any bacteria that
dared to oppose cleanliness.

... a high reading of salts and traces of Methanol in the bloodstream suggests that the
subject can halt deterioration of blood cells during low temperatures and afterwards.
The proteins are still valid and indications of a glycerol-type solution is manufactured...

"Do you want the floor under your desk cleaning, Doc?" the voice asked from behind
Professor Shaw, a glycerol-type solution would be quite a feat to create internally -he
thought and sighed at the request to move.

(Continued Below)

(From Above)

The cardboard roll of Vim appeared next to the pile of files and papers on the long bench
and Charles moved the high wooden stool further away as Jenkins went about his work.
The smell of what some would deem disinfectant, wafted into Shaw's nostrils and as he
stood waiting for the dull-grey mop to move off away from his studying, Charles glanced
again at the Janitor's favourite 'sprinkle'

"Vim... latin for vigour or force" he said softly and immediately realised that he maybe seen
as showing-off to the man pushing the mop, Charles fumbled with his tie in nervousness.
"Yep, I heard that somewhere, Doc. I'm sure there's a Force that makes the world go around"
Jenkins replied contentedly without looking up.

Professor Shaw looked out of the window and watched three soldiers carrying a contraption
that resembled a chair from an execution room, it looked like Ramey had acquired his own
'Old Sparky'
"I know it's none of my business -Doc, but I think that bloke is up to no-good..." Jenkins said
beside him, the mop now made a grand leaning-stick. "...Major Ramey is a man that has that
stuff running through his viens" he added and pointed at the Vim container.

Charles restacked his papers and notes as the Janitor sought-out the terrible germs that
ran 'Floor City' on the far-side of the laboratory, a faint-sound of an Elvis's impersonation
of the song 'Are You Lonesome Tonight' came from where Jenkins busied himself.

A sudden vision of the poor red-dressed BIAD strapped into Ramey's new-found chair
caused Charles to peer out of the window again, but only the struggling plants on the verge
of the road that led to the warehouse -implied a normality. A small sigh left his lips.



It was 11.34am by the clock on the wall and someone had drawn two astonished eyes on it's
glass cover, Shaw wondered whether to tell the English cleaner and decided not to.
He had more important tasks ahead, he needed to know what that chair was for.

"There's never enough time in a day to get everything done" Jenkins remarked as he rubbed
the small of his back, the floor was officially cleared of the invasive Microorganisms.

Professor Shaw showed a condescending smile as he made his way to the door, he hadn't
seen Boy In A Dress since the previous evening. "Thank you for the chat, but I have to go
now, Mr...?" he said lifting his voice at the end of the sentence to indicate a question.
"Jenkins, Sir... Jenkins is the name" the grinning Janitor answered and with a quick step, he
closed on the man in the white coat with a welcoming hand.

The tannoy called for one of Charles' fellow-academics in another part of the building as they
shook hands, the sound seemed muffled to both of them -as if for one moment, they were
both in a pocket of 'still-time'
"Again, Doc... it ain't any of my business, but the best thing you could do for the kid is to get
him out of here... be a Father to him" Jenkins whispered and stared straight into the Professor's
bespectacled-eyes.

Time nudged them back into the 'now' and Charles nodded politely at the Janitor's advice.
He'd been thinking about taking the Man/Girl to the cinema at the weekend and maybe that
was what this small-round character meant.
"Maybe you're correct, I should..." he released his hand from Jenkins' and suddenly realised
that he was talking about something that was classed as Top Secret.

Turning to go, Shaw said "we shouldn't discuss things that could get you into trouble" and
made for the door, the day was getting on.
"Aye, yer' right Doc... more elbow-grease and less time-wasting...." came the response as
Charles left the laboratory "...it's a reality I should take more seriously"

Alone in the quiet room, the red-cheeked pudgy Maintenance Man began to shrivel, twist
and shrivel -to be exact and after a few seconds, an entirely different person stood with mop
and bucket in-hand.

The Splitter would begin here, before BIAD's escape from Dugway and before CindyMarrs
purchased the cabin in Oregon. Without a sound, the grey-coloured Being with the silver-
dollar eyes walked over to where Professor Shaw had been working and moved his hand
over the bare bench.



(Nearly done! Just abit below)

(El finito... for now anyway!)

It was still there. The study-notes and files etched with 'Top Secret' on their covers shimmered
into view and The Splitter knew that he had only a limited amount of time to perform his task.
'...A natural mineral that can alter gravity and the space around it. Such material has been
located in the North-West of The United States...'

The words magically appeared in the holographic-like papers that shimmered infront of
The Splitter and the Time-Mechanic knew that the exact words were also appearing in the
real documents in Professor Shaw's hands in the same instant.
Yeneth could only hope that this time, it would work and glancing around to the door, he
slipped out of the reality soundlessly.



Jenkins... the REAL Jenkins finished with the faulty shower tile ten minutes later and
decided to have lunch before tackling the laboratory floor. Damned scientists always spill
something -he thought to himself as he shambled towards the Canteen.

Oh... just a note.
It would be a whole-year before Professor Shaw discovered that Elvis Presley came back
to the States on 3rd March of 1960 and didn't release 'Are You Lonesome Tonight' until the
day after he had landed.

------------------------------The Sweet & The Sweetness----------------------------



More of the brown particles floated past the window that looked out on to Khalamzadar
IV and Drake shook his head slowly at the sight, With a puzzled-frown, he went back to
adjusting the gyro-ball of the Droid known as Call-Me-Kenneth.

"I must admit, I was surprised that I fell over at all" C-M-K chirped as he sat on the steel
table. "May I let you in on a secret?" he asked and lowered his arm as Drake The Repair
Droid finished his work.

The thin robot gave no indication that he was listening to the 'ever-so-polite' Hospitality
Droid and focused on putting his tools back in their proper place, Drake prided himself on
a tidy workstation.

"I believe my balance was effected by this..." Kenneth said and brought a small-folded
piece of paper from his chest-plate, the document looked well-thumbed and well-read.
"...I came across it whilst cleaning Mr. Dress' resting-room" he whispered -as if imparting
with something rude and embarrassing.

It was a love letter, Drake had always been the type of character that focused on serious
issues and never wasted his time on frivolous-human weaknesses, but he knew what a
love letter looked like when he saw one.
The Head-Repair Droid perused the words with one eye as he unclipped the Bio-electro
monitor strap from C-M-K and after a couple of seconds, his interest was piqued.

"This No.38 Droid... I don't recognise the title, is it a registration-number?" Drake scrutised
Call-Me-Kenneth's smiling-face for any clues, the pleasant-mannered servant's brow
lowered slightly at the dark clouds that Drake brought to the discussion.

"I have checked in the lower-decks of Ship and I even ventured into the sub-levels in
search of the writer of this letter. Sadly, my 'mystery-lady' remains just that... a mystery!"
Kenneth said quietly and clambered down from his roosting place.
Drake watched a large chunk of the brown material pass the window and pondered on
the idea that the waste-system was acting-up again, maybe it was time to notify the
Maintenance Droid Bernard V.

"It was my heart's desire..." Kenneth began, but Drake interrupted him "You don't possess
a heart" he snapped and turned back to the sad-looking features of the standing Droid.
"Your tasks here are to serve, NOT to waste your time with an emotion you cannot concieve
-never mind understand" the thin-faced Captain of the Repair Bay informed his patient.

Kenneth nodded and turned to leave, "thank you for fixing my problem and I'll not delay
you in your business" he mumbled softly. The letter lay between them.
Drake sighed and extending his arm (the one without the multi-driver heads attached)
he stopped the sad-looking robot in his leaving.

"May I say this...?" Drake kept his voice calm and polite, he knew that this particular model
thrived on decorum and manners "Your letter has me a little confused" he added.
Call-Me-Kenneth turned back to the robot with the long-neck and the wide-lips, he was
always willing to give someone a second-chance.

"There are certain prose in this note that indicate that the writer is a very old make, a Droid
from a time when humans spoke in more-insecure verse. I wouldn't be surprised if your
'gal' doesn't work in Holo-Theatre or possibly the arboretum" Drake said with optimistic
tones.

Call-Me-Kenneth raised his metal eyebrows and showed that this was an interesting
option. Picking up the letter, offering a slight bow and a thank-you, he left the Repair Bay.

Drake picked up a small screw that loitered under the metal bench and stifled the thought
that the servant had lost one, 'he certainly behaves like he has' -the rarely-comical Drake
whispered to himself.

More particles bumped on the glass and Drake took the opportunity to look closer at what
had been floating by for some time now, he was certain that there was a leak somewhere.



It was chocolate cake, a slice of deep rich-brown chocolate cake and the Head of the Repair
Bay sighed again. He had heard of the humans boasting that their moon was made of
cheese, but it seems that Nenothtu's Khalamzadar VI had orbiting objects made from
cocoa.
Drake shook his head and went back to his toil 'what's next on this crazy ship?' he thought

* ~ * Something Wicked... * ~ *

‘Never had a lad to call me own...’ The Alewife and owner of the Rose burped a bubble of ‘usky‘ leaving a bitter sweet taste like paste on the back of her tongue.

The black cat sitting just beyond kicking range at her feet turned it’s head and licked it’s shoulder feigning indifference to the drunk’s rambling.

‘Why you naughty puss-puss! If ye aint gonna pay attention jest git yerself away from here ya cursed thing!’ The hag known by the name of her pub lisped through the gaps in her teeth. Shuddering Rose pulled her shawl closer around her stooped shoulders. The night had gone spooky with the feline the only living thing sharing the dark with her now that the kegs had run dry, the hearth bled cold and the grunting from the cubbies above the taproom had fallen quiet.

‘I said get yerself away!’ Rose yanked off one roughshod shoe throwing it hard in the direction of the cat. When the shoe sailed wide the animal didn’t so much as blink.

‘Well then stay if ya have a mind to.‘ Rose gave up threatening the cat and went back to the boy. ‘But don’t ye go thinking I had any o’ them fancy feelings fer the lad!’ She slurred between pulls on her wineskin.

The cat turned contortionist rounded on itself to clean it’s bottom.

‘But...but jest between you and me?’ Rose closed one sloe eye the other gone wally, ’I did have a wee bit o’ liking fer him.’ She chuckled meanly. Anger was settling in a hard lump beneath her breastbone. She’d been sure the boy would have scuttled back like a roach days ago. He’d not. And now there was no one left to lead her to bed, scour the dregs from cups grown green with use, turn the spit, stoke the cooking fire.

‘Well there it is damn ‘is miserable hide. He’s done run off fer good like the rest of them bloody males!’ Failing to gain her feet Rose fell back on her ample bottom another hiccup escaping her throat. The usky might of warmed her innards but it sent her feet spayed as a ducks. The thought of sleeping on the porch angered her all the more.

‘Well be damned to him where ever he is I say!‘ Rose wailed. For the fist time in memory she missed something and it wasn‘t the cat who’s chosen that moment to run up the tree leaning against the tap room to perch there her tail a-bristle her eyes round as the moon.

‘Where...is...he...’ A dark shadow whispered and cut off what little light the moon spilled over the dooryard. In her stupor Rose wondered if it was the boy come home her slow motion brain registering whatever had come to call was too big for the boy. Drunk or no her inborn sense of preservation sent Rose’s skin crawling.

‘Who’s out there?’ She barked, usky and fear giving her a courage she didn’t feel.

‘Where...is...he!’ A great waft of putrid air clapped her nose shut but not soon enough. Rose nearly suffocating in the stench lurched in fear as right before her face a mouth wider than her laundry kettle appeared sprouting gnarly black teeth glowing murky and green. Hands spalyed in front of her Rose scooted back towards the door of the pub her heels making scuff marks across the dirty planks.

‘Get yerself gone from here!‘ Her teeth chattered, ’Be off with you! The pub’s closed!‘ Like knives thrown into the dark Rose spouted the litany she’d bespoke most every eve of her life. The old worn out phrases comforted her but didn’t stave off the intruder.

A mammoth fist struck through the shadows snatching her by the neck like she’d been known to snatch up old hens ready for the stew pot.

‘Where is he.’ Up close and inescapable the voice grew even more ominous with quiet. From her new height feet dangling too far from the ground Rose could make out nothing but the things huge green eyes, gleaming teeth and wide flat nose sprouting rust red hair dripping slime.

‘Who you be looking for?’ She croaked around a throat constricting under pressure from the huge thumb and forefinger holding her suspended.

‘The Nenoooooo.’ The giant hissed sending vomitous spittle spraying across her cheeks. ‘Where is he?’ The dreadful thing repeated.

‘I dunno...he done run off...a fortnight ago.’ She didn’t remember the lad’s name was Neno. A twinge of guilt squeezed at her tiny shriveled heart.

‘Where...did...he go...’ The giant dipped his head so close she cold feel the heat from his eyes radiating across her face. She tried to scream, she choked then choked again but her arms and hands hung lifeless at her sides like a kitten’s dangling from a cats mouth. There was no fighting.

‘I...don’t...know...’ She tried.

##snipped##

The cat perched high in the tree wiped its paw delicately over a feral feline grin cleaning Rose’s blood and gore from it’s slick black fur.

..........Change Your Partners and Do-Se-Do.........

Wild's face fell as she gazed on the reanimated Dorothy Goodyear. She was conflicted thusly:;

Had Dorothy stayed "dead" Wild would have had a much easier time of things (in terms of winning Alaag back now that she had successfully driven him away). Nevertheless, she'd not contemplated the possibility that he'd actually fallen in love with Dorothy. In Wild's mind it was a rebound only. She'd even fantasized about "disappearing" the lady just to get things moving forward again.

But here Alaag was, one moment in the shock of despair, and the next standing gazing at Dorothy and she was gazing back. Naturally, in Alaag's mind, it was his devoted embrace (much akin to Romeo's - or was it Juliet's? - bah, he could never remember all the players in the ancient mythologies) that had healed her.

If that was the case.....

His immediate thought - on an instantaneous gut-level in his unconscious had gone something like this:
Dorothy dead = Wild will take me back. After all, it was easiest to have backup at all times, rather than going it alone through the trials and pains of existence.

He would not have allowed himself to grieve alone - he was not strong enough, and he knew it - he was, however, handsome enough to never have to worry about that even being a possibility....., and so, just like that, he'd made up his mind that he was once again Wild's "man."

(He was as yet unaware of his spell on Gert and the ramifications of it). As it turned out, Gert and Brittle had decided to follow Wild, and now they appeared in the chapel doorway to find Wild, Alaag, and Dorothy. This presented an unpleasant conundrum for Brittle as well as Gert.

To Gert, a new rival had appeared on the scene.

To Brittle, Alaag was now distracted and Brittle could move in on Wild. He had reassurance from Gert that one of the witches would devise a clever way of un-eunuching him, and had every reason to believe it was possible.

So, the five of them stood - and no one with romance on their minds wants a fifth-wheel. (Well, at least on K-IV, men were not interested in "threesomes" - that was a relic of the past, more primitive mind of Umankind. It had proven decidedly less entertaining when put into practice than it was on paper, or in the mind.)

As the gears churned, then, in each of their heads, deciphering the best and most optimal outcome from their individual points of view, they sprang all at once into action.

Wild pulled a stiletto from her sleeve and eyed the distance between herself and Dorothy. She knew she could embed it deeply into any part of Dorothy that she chose, and its microscopic diameter would render her dead again while leaving Wild appearing innocent (and shocked). Though it weighed only fractions of a nanogram, she hefted it in her fingers and worked out the speed and trajectory required;

At the same moment, Alaag abruptly threw himself full-body hug at Dorothy.

And Brittle whispered to Gert, "Now!" He meant, of course, for the un-eunuching, but Gert interpreted it as meaning now was her chance to grab Alaag and run. She approached him from behind, and Dorothy's eyes met hers.

Gert stopped, backed up, and her mouth set itself in a thin, hard line, her lips tucked in. Her eyes narrowed as the two females exchanged thoughts. It was Pandora, and Gert ought to know, she'd been consorting with the Keeper of the Box and the rest of the trans-dimensional beings for long enough.

"Alaag," she said, in a deep, gravelly voice that sounded as though it was emanating from the rafters, "this is not Dorothy."

Everyone stopped and looked at her, and Pandora's eyes narrowed to glowing slits. "I'll have you punished," she hissed, and then Dorothy went limp and stone cold again in Alaag's arms.

Wild had lifted her arm to launch the stiletto, but Brittle grabbed it to stay her, and had her firmly round the waist as she watched Dorothy die again. Alaag was powerless to do anything but weep, and Gert made her move. She transformed once again into the lovely Lady of the Lake, as she had appeared to Adam, Dag, and Brittle that other time in the caves below Vandalia...
Brittle grinned to himself as he felt Wild's form go limp in his arms....and his lower torso change...
and from the ether, Dag watched.....and frowned....

Gert would need discipline. Again.

* ~ * S & S * ~ *

‘What is it? What’s wrong Flint?’ Moriah’s voice thick with sleep whispered under the fur blanket.

‘Sticks and stones...’ The boy moaned curling tighter into a ball beside Moriah.

‘Flint. Please stop it. My head hurts.’ Moriah tried but the boy wouldn’t still. Moriah waited for Jeni to come and help but her sister and the two brothers had stuck their heads together hours ago and hadn’t come up for air since.

‘Sticks and stones wont...’ Flint squealed in his sleep his hands searching the darkness for something to hold onto.

Moriah wanted to cry with pain but it wasn’t the kids fault. Taking Flint's hands in her own Moriah wrapped the boy’s arms around her middle and pulled him close.

‘Sticks and stones...grind my bones...to make his...bread.’ Nuzzling into Moriah for comfort Flint dozed off but his words echoed in her head until finally she too fell back to sleep.

* ~ * Run * ~ *

‘We’ve gone round and round with this and it still makes no sense!’ Jeni’s head pounded with cold, fear and the whiskey she’d swallowed against her better judgment.

‘I don’t know how else to explain it lass.’ Quiet rubbed at his eyes gritty with exhaustion.

‘We have to take them and go Quiet. Now.’ Argus grumbled. He’d given up trying to explain the situation to the girl hours ago.

‘Argus! For the last time we can’t leave with the girl hurt like she is.‘ Quiet motioned to the youngsters sleeping on a cot in the corner. Jeni hadn’t liked them bunked together but the lack of bed space and bedding had left her with no choice.

‘We can carry...‘ Argus left off abruptly his head snapping up his eyes focused on something beyond the door.

Quiet reacted in an instant. He’d seen his brother sober with alacrity before and it never meant any good.

‘I smell something.‘ Argus lifted his nose taking in great draughts of air with nostrils dilating like a hounds. ‘Jeazuz protect us. Get the girl!‘ Argus commanded reaching for his longsword hanging from a peg on the wall tossing Quiet his chest strap of throwing knives from an adjoining hook.

‘Jeni! Wake Moriah and the boy. You’re leaving. Now.‘ Quiet’s command brooked no argument but still he explained. ‘If you value the life of your sister you’ll get those two younguns up and moving and you’ll run.‘

‘Run where?’ Jeni threw her arms akimbo unable to fathom the turn of events.

‘Away Jeni. Just run away!’ Quiet shoved her hard across the room strapping on his knives.

‘No! Not without you!’ Turning to Argus Jeni threw herself in his way baring his way from exiting the hut.

‘You’ll move away now lass or I’ll be moving you.’ Argus’s eyes registered physical pain having to talk rough to the girl.

‘But Argus.’ her eyes pleaded soundlessly.

‘But nothing lass. Do as Quiet said.’

When Jeni didn’t move Argus cupped the back of her neck in his palm pulling her face close his eyes fixed on hers searching deeply. When he found what he was looking for Argus lowered his lips claiming Jeni’s sweetly.

‘Now go.’ Argus shoved her away to concentrate on his brother. ‘And lass. Don't’ look back.‘

Argus turned away as if she’d already gone. He and his brother had plans to make. For war.

* ~ * Alpha * ~ *

‘Argus wait.’ Quiet’s hand lay still and firm on his brother’s shoulder. ‘You can’t let the lass go. Not now.' Quiet finished lamely but lame or no his words still held power.

‘Woot’s ma choice? Yer the one that told her to go.’ Argus chuckled bitterly strapping a pair of thick hardened leather shin guards in place around his calves.

‘So you’re going to fight by the clan first and worry about yer lass later?’ Quiet dropped his hand from his brother’s shoulder his resolve hardening. He knew now what he had to do.

‘My lass is she now?’ He chuckled again, ’Have ye gone soft in yer head Quiet?’ Argus sighed, ’You know as well as I whoever stays fights. It’s our way. Lad or lass as soon as you can stand on two feet you fight or die - from cradle to grave. You were right to tell her to go, we can't allow the lass to do either.’ Frustrated with his gear Argus swore and gave up leaving his gauntlets aside.

‘Argus ye kissed her. She’s yers now.‘ Quiet leveled the law.

‘Dear Jeazus it was only a kiss mon.‘ Argus shot his hands out to the side in anger but the law of the clan came back to him, slower it seemed than it had his brother. Quiet was right. Argus had claimed her.

‘You can’t let ‘er go without ye Argus.’ Quiet repeated.

‘But our laws don’t apply ta them.’ Argus fought back. ‘Now enough of this! Get yerself ready for a fight.’ Thinking better of it Argus turned back to his gauntlet's.

‘Argus.’ Quiet‘s whisper came out like a roar. ‘Stand before your Alpha.’ Quiet rose up his arms crossed over his chest his eyes staring straight through Argus.

Argus bust out laughing. ‘Now woot kind of foolishness be this!’ Argus’s face actually split into a grin. He’d never head his brother take on his rightful mantle of clan leader once. Not once.

‘Argus. Stand before your Alpha.’ Quiet pulled the hood of his cloak up letting the silver wolf head of his cloak drop down to cover his features but not hide his eyes. His eyes blazed through the wolf mask like the wolf’s own.

‘Argus, warrior of the Newscot‘s and brother o’ mine. As your Alpha I command you to go.’ Quiet’s voice sounded like nothing Argus had ever heard before. The skin along his arms pimpled under their thick mat of hair rising on end.

‘Argus, take up your sword and your mace, your furs and three days rations and go. You’re banned from returning before the new moon.‘ Quiet’s command became all too clear. ‘Take with you the foundlings Jeni who you marked as yer own.’ Quiet’s arm stretched before him his finger pointing forward. ‘Take with you Flint, our brother.’ Quiet’s voice gonged like a bell. ’Take with you Moriah the White.’ Quiet finished.

‘Moriah the White?‘ Argus snorted, ‘By the God’s if I though fer a moment you were serious...’ Argus shook his head but the low growl coming from under the wolf mask stopped him.

‘Ye are serious aren't’ you boy?’ Argus’s jaw dropped.

‘Take with you my heart and keep yours well safe. Keep the foundlings safe. Promise them their brethren will remain safe here, the girl they call Silo will not be touched. The man the call Adam will be revered as a holy prophet.’ Quiet didn’t move only the silver tips of the fur cascading down his shoulders flickered in the fire light.

‘Go? Now?’ Argus still couldn’t believe it. When Quiet didn’t respond Argus’s heart nearly burst. Leave his brother? Leave him here to fight whatever that thing was? The thing he could smell coming from a mile away? With the clan at his back or no whatever was coming their way needed him to fight it!

Reading his mind Quiet added in a voice nearly his own. ‘No Argus. You'll not bear arms unless it’s to protect yer lass and her kin. Go. Now.’ The silver blue eyes behind the wolf mask glistened with moisture but didn’t blink, didn’t waver. ‘And keep yourself well.’ Quiet finished before slowly, majestically turning his back on his brother.

For a full minute Argus stood still, waiting. Quiet didn’t turn back. Finally with nothing left to do but bend to his brother’s will Argus took up his weapons, the sacks of provisions that seemed to have appeared from nowhere on the floor and left the hut to search for Jeni. The lass couldn’t have gone far.

............................*It's The Way I Tell 'Em!*...............................

"Just great!..." Pandora hissed and stared towards where Death waited, if the tall-figure
showed any indication of mocking her, she would tear-open the Box and release the thing
that the Reaper feared the most... Hope.
(We'll take it that the second-thing he detested is the cigar-smoking Vandal!)

"... She saw through the glamour, what the hell happened to decorum-among-ethereals?!"
the midnight-tressed beauty hissed and stormed towards the quiet crib. Death emulated
the lack of sound from the baby's bed and said nothing, his Lady was fuming.
"That bitch -Gert, she owes me!" came the snarl and then in the same-breath, she cooed
softly to Boy In A Dress' bastard-son.

The Library returned to it's cold silence and Death returned to perusing the ancient Book Of
Wretched, it was safer that way.

Names appeared and faded under the gaze of the Soul-Reaper and then the poisoned-tone
of Pandora came again. "Get me Craddock"


...............................

The celebration marking the setting of the fabled Caliburn Sword went off quite well
considering no sleek-bladed weapon was actually handed over and maybe to some, that
would seem as abit of bummer. Initial views on the refusal had caused some negativity, but
the outcome was seen as satisfactory for all who lived in the subterranean-town.
You'll be happy to know that the sensitive Nenothtu somehow managed to endure the
doubtful looks from his tenants.

Above, is a non-opinionated way of describing the pantomime that came to the small
courtyard in Bisley Deeps, but enough of that!

The small residents of Bisley Deeps had attempted a weak revolt at the Vandal's reluctance
to give away the deadly sword "...Do you have any idea how much time went into carving
the placement stone?" one of the dark-shuffling Beings had asked and was rewarded with a
stare from Neno that had caused the questioner to shrink back into the crowd.
It was Tibbs that saved the day. Again.



"HEAR ME BISLIANS... HEAR THE NEO'S ADVISOR!" Tibbs shouted above the furore from the
crowd in the courtyard, the ritual was located just-off from the Square and a small wooden
platform had been erected beneath the large rock with the smoothed-recess.
The Caliburn was to become the proud property of Bisley Deeps.

Nenothtu glanced over to where Margot, Boy In A Dress and Mucklebones watched the
disruption and moved his eyes towards the pistol in his hip-holster, the woman-cum-Pilot
tracked those cold orbs and shook her head to show her opinion on shooting the little-people
who had come to honour him.

"Hear me -oh wise folk of Bisley Deeps..." Tibbs went on with arms-held high "...The Blade Of
Good, The Caledfwlch, The Caliburn of The One -is here, we do not seek to rob you of your
honour" The little Vithian raised his voice near the end of the statement to indicate indiginity
of accusing Nenothtu of being selfish.

The crowd of dark-shapes settled a little and the voices lowered to murmers, Tibbs pressed on.
"For many here, the legend of the sword residing in your hamlet -has become almost as a fact.
However, I will ask one question to the Neo's trusty-followers and your response will be final,
we'll say no-more on the matter"

'Nice move' Neno thought, the little-guy has just dumped an unknown responsibility on the
poor mob, and pondered on whether to call for a coffee.

Margot focused on Tibbs' explanation with features of concern that would have earned her an
Oscar -back on Earth, BIAD focused on tapping one foot and then the other.
Neno turned his attention back to the bespectacled-bullsh*tter known as Tibbs.

"The Universe awaits a man, a man who will straddle belief-systems and bring about peace.
This man... a man who will spend a long time alone, mind..." the small robed-wizard warned
"...this man will make all of the races that are out there..." a wave of his hand towards the dark
ceiling of the cavern brought a head-movement from all of the watchers and Neno stifled a
grin by igniting a cigar.

(Continued Below)

(From Above)

"...ALL the races that wish to live in harmony, all will look to this planet as the home of the
Great Neo" Tibbs said in reverence and lowered his head to stress the importance of his words.
The crowd was silent and except for a few at the back who were still looking up into the gloom
of the ceiling, faces of awe held sway in the town of Bisley Deeps.

"I suppose, the question I have is this... To thwart those who seek to oppose the Neo, to bring-
low the Dark Forces that abound the cosmos, our hero will need a weapon. A weapon that will
cut through the shadows, will cleave a way for the good to illuminate the terrible deeds that
they plot at this very-moment..." Tibbs offered a wink -as if letting the muster into a secret,
"...Now my good-people, do you want The Neo to enter the fray bare-handed?" he asked with
a tone that brought a sexual-shiver from Mucklebones.

The murmer came reluctantly and was in the negative, Tibbs knew this wasn't enough and
moved to bring the killing-blow.

"Do you want YOUR man -here, to face-down evil with nothing but his spirit and love for
this planet?" The Vithian was on a roll now and asked the question with a heavy-sarcasm.
The 'No' was louder this time.

"Do you want the worlds -out there to see you as a selfish people that made The Knight
Of Salvation travel without his trusty-sword?" he asked with a raised-voice and this time,
he was rewarded with a unified 'NO!"

Nenothtu and Margot both focused on not giggling, the dwarf was a better-laugh than the
Man/Girl in his prime -Neno thought and pretended to find something interesting behind
him.

Bisley Deeps was united, their 'man' would be armed with the big-bad weapon of yore
and Jenovah forgive anyone who got in his way. But, Tibbs had one more surprise inside his
robe-sleeve and offered a slow nod to confuse some of the residents that had come to the
ceremony.

"But he is the Neo, and as any of the older-ones here can tell their young kin... Noboy gets
left behind" For a old guy, he was carrying this off fairly well -the Vandal mused and any
anger he had for Tibbs' behavior earlier, dissapted.

The Bislians beamed in happiness and watched with saucer-eyes as the small man with the
long beard stepped reverently to where the taller-man was waiting.
"Listen to me..." Tibbs whispered and stared with hooded-eyes over his spectacles "raise
your arms when I give you the nod?" he said but placed it as question. Nenothtu blew smoke
downwards into Tibbs' face and mockingly whispered "okey-dokey!"

Onlookers would see a caring-disciple probably talking of scared and secret things, of esoteric
views of what lay ahead for the brave Knight Of Vandalia. "You ingrate!" Tibbs coughed quietly
and turned back to the crowd he owned.

"We are in for a treat..." Tibbs said with excitement and leaned towards the front-row of
the Bislians. "...The Neo has agreed to leave The Ghost Of Avalon with us, the very spirit that
inhabits The Caliburn" he added and Nenothtu wondered if the little guy would double as a
Santa Clause aboard The Yydryl this year and stifled a snort.

He was brought back to the moment by the nodding-head of Tibbs.

The flames looked real. In fact, Neno could swear that he could feel heat from the licking-light.
Slowly, Nenothtu raised his arms and watched along with the Bislians, The Spirit Of Avalon
appear on stage.



Boy In A Dress would say later that if you pressed the green button first and then the red one
on Tibbs' handset, the ghostly-sword would appear first -THEN the flames. But, I suppose that's
not important at this point.

The people of Bisley Deeps went back to their small dwellings in rapture and the exhausted
-Tibbs went back with Muckles to the rooms that the cafe-owner was kind enough to provide.

The gig had worked and all was right with the world... the only dark-cloud on the horizon was
Boy In A Dress pondering a faded wanted-poster in the alleyway near the courtyard.



But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, heh?

............In The Eyes of the Beholders...........

The reader, being now aware that Neno will retain the Caliburn with the consent of his "people", will perhaps wonder what transpired between the scene wherein Pandora's abortive mission to trick Alaag ended and the triumphant soliloquy that Tibbs delivered began.

To wit:

When Alaag's eyes met Gert's, it was for the first time. He'd been quite too occupied and distracted with getting the Diamond Situation under wraps (i.e., ensuring that neither Redbeard NOR Kershner had it) and depositing everyone into the scene and then landing the colossal airship to even notice the old hag.

To Alaag, she was merely another passenger among this motley group that had followed Wild into his laboratory. He could not fathom how they were of any consequence whatsoever, and frankly, found the lot of them more a hindrance than anything else.

Still, they appeared to have come in the yellow shuttle they called "Cecilia", and it appeared that the other, more streamlined Transport had also some interest in the vessel that the Giant had shipjacked. Whoever was piloting it had, in any case, destroyed the Uktena about to overwhelm it. As far as Alaag knew, Redbeard was still aboard it; and it had landed.

Somehow, now, in Gert's glamour-eyes, Alaag thought he saw Hope. (This was, of course, anathema to Pandora, and she was beside herself with frustration, frothing rabidly about having her way.)

It was a rather intuitive bit of precognition -- understood in its workings only by the Sisterhood -- that had allowed Gert a heads-up at the opportunity soon to present itself. Tibbs' work with the flames and the Caliburn's image in front of the mob had followed ... and secured to her the portion of that sword's power that she had learned to use, despite having no ownership of it herself. Had he not done so, and thereby impressed upon the diminutive residents of the planet, the importance of that tool, she might have had no chance at all of ever getting Alaag's attention. But, having sensed the Caliburn was soon to be again publicized, Gert had summoned what powers she still retained as a Sister, even though she was no longer able to access the "seniors only" files .

Wild was furious to see the transformation. She absolutely loathed, despised, hated, and abhorred it when people shape-shifted!! She'd been tricked by the embodied Dorothy; and now she'd been tricked into seeing a beautiful nymph appear where once had been a hunched old hag who smelled of ointment and pee.

How was she supposed to compete with such feminine prowess? What was going on??!!!!

She had begun to rant and lunge at the Glamour-Gert, and Brittle had been obliged to remove her from the scene.

He stood with her at the back of the crowd and watched as Neo's inauguration or ceremony or pontification (or whatever it was) unfolded. Brittle took her by the elbow and pointed up to the balcony. "Those are my people," he said. "The winning team." There the flames and sword shone brightly, casting the silhouette of Neno in a long shadow behind it.

Wild wrenched away her elbow defiantly from his grasp to shift over for a better view. And then, in a bizarre and unexpected surge, the scene changed before her, and above and behind the new Landlord's figure, appeared to her a vision she had only previously seen while asleep:


A chill seeped from her womb to the ends of her hair....her knees buckled, and she grabbed for Brittle's arm to steady herself.

"No," she breathed. "No...."

She would have to attach to this rag-tag entourage now; there was no going back. There was no more time to dally with the seduction of Alaag. Too much was at stake. Somehow, she knew that her reason for being had just revealed itself. Long-ago dreams were thrust into the forefront of her mind, and the blood drained from her face.

She turned to look at Brittle. He was dazzlingly handsome, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be part of his life....

* ~ * Lost & Found * ~ *

‘But Jeni!’ Flint nearly swore. He wanted to help, really. But he had no idea what the young woman was going on about. A ‘distraction’? Flints eyes changed color reflecting the surroundings and his frustration. At the moment they swam in his face emerald and gray from where the three of them hid lying on their bellies under the bracken hoping the mist would go a long way to hide them.

‘A distraction is...well...where you try to get those people in the hut to pay attention to you so I can slip in and get Silo and Adam.’ Jeni scrunched sideways avoiding a sharp rock digging into her breastbone.

‘Yer wanting ta take him with us?’ Flint squealed in disbelief rising to his elbows. If Moriah’s head hadn’t hurt so much she’d of nodded in disbelief.

‘Yes you two we’re taking him with us! Now Flint just get out there and do something!’ Jeni poked the boy in the ribs trying to prod him into action.

‘Take him if ya want but if we try and take that lady she’s gonna die.’ Flint elbowed Jeni back hard trying to drive his point home. Flint felt real fear for the girl woman he didn’t even know. She had pretty colored hair, was hardly any bigger than he was but he’d never seen anything so broken in his life.

‘So tell me what choice we have then? Leave her here with these...barbarians?’ Jeni turned her head to the side looking away from the boys dirty face. She hadn’t wanted to insult his ‘brothers’ but there it was.

‘Barbarians are we now?’ Standing over them Argus planted a boot on either side of Jeni’s ribs and grasping her by the back of her jerkin pulled her to her feet in front of him.

‘What the hell are you doing here! And get down! You’re going to blow our cover!’ Jeni ground her heel into the top of his boot then started in kicking his shins.

‘Yer hysterical woman.’ Argus dropped her in a heap to salute Flint. ‘An there’s no one in tha’ hut other than tha’ worm you call mon.’ Argus showed his clean white teeth when Flint angled his way between them.

‘Nice work boyo keeping the lasses close.’ Argus knew Flint had done no such thing but he got such a kick out of watching the lad puff up like a game cock he couldn’t stop himself.

‘I knew you’d get here!‘ Hero worship exploded in the boy’s chest. Truth be told he was afraid Argus wouldn’t come for them and the relief at not being disappointed by his new ‘brother’ was nearly unbearable. ‘But she wants to take him.’ Flint chucked a thumb over his shoulder and with a crooked smile of disgust tattled on Jeni in manly camaraderie.

‘I heard as much.’ Argus wiggled his eyebrows and ruffled the boys hair causing Flint to giggle. ‘Now let’s get going.’

‘Hold it right there.’ Jeni tried to squeeze back in front of the warrior but Flint wouldn’t budge. ’We’re not going anywhere without Adam.’ Jeni’s lifted her chin high her eyes beginning to spark green fire.

‘Ye’ll be going when and where I say lass or you’ll rue the day ye met me...’ Argus started then held up his hand for quiet. The stench was getting closer - the others must have smelled it too, as one the three took a step closer to the big warrior.

‘Eww!’ Flint frowned his eyes gone dark with fear one hand creeping into Argus's the other into Moriah’s who took it and held on.

‘It’s...him.’ Moriah whispered her face blank and pasty white her eyes near to rolling back into her head. ‘He’s...coming.’ Moriah’s knees collapsed, Argus catching the girl before she fell full to the ground.

‘All right, tha’s it! Up you go Flint’ Argus flung the boy over his shoulders to ride horse-a-back behind his neck. Moriah he cradled close to his chest as he turned and to run back through the fens. Argus didn’t bother to look back to see if Jeni was following him. He knew the girl would do what was good for her. She might be stubborn but she wasn’t stupid.

He was wrong. Jeni had already sprinted across the clearing to dive into the hut where Adam crouched near the fire eyes blank humming to himself.

‘Adam, get up. You have to get up and come with me! Now! It’s not safe here! Get UP!’ Jeni bent down and tried to shake him by the shoulders.

‘Dag lass? Is that you?’ Adam’s eyes stared out at something Jeni couldn’t see. ‘I knew you’d come back to me love. I knew you’d come back.’ Adam crooned in a voice that made Jeni’s heart thud hard and hollow in her chest. He really was mad. Stark raving mad.

Shaking his head a little from side to side Adam pushed Jeni’s hands away with clear detachment.

‘Adam please! We have to go!’ Jeni tried again but Adam only smiled and reached out to the fire his empty eyes reflecting the wavering flame.

‘Dag...my lovely Dag...’ He went on crooning.

Pulling back her hand far behind her head Jeni let it fly slapping Adam as hard as she could. Screaming now she tried to get him to look at her, see her, hear her. Her slap left a bright red imprint across his jaw line but other than that it didn’t seem to register with Adam at all. He didn’t respond. Not to her. He was responding to something, someone he saw in the flame.

‘Dag...’ He sobbed openly now his eyes dripping tears like a lover reunited.

Shaking Jeni rose to her feet. ’I’m sorry Adam. I’m so sorry.’ She whispered and gave up. She couldn’t help him. Just like she couldn’t help her father, or Margot or Moriah or her own mother. She just couldn’t help him.

It was the stink wafting in through the door that sent Jeni running. Like a hart followed by hounds her long legs carried her from the hut and off in the direction where Argus had taken the children. Mist or no she’d find them. She had to.

........*When They Come, They Come For The Thing You Love*..........

'Nothing but heaven itself is better than a friend who is really a friend' said the Roman
playwright -Plautus and I reckon that he was right on the button, 'cos it's true.

The Yydyrl's Doctor, the crazy-loon known as Adam once actually read that quote, but in
his present-state, I'd doubt he'd recall the time.

Madness, where reality bangs and screams at the door, and where demons watch like
winter-wolves with hungry eyes.
They can't 'get' you when you're in there, did you know that? If our huddled-little Doctor
wasn't compos mentis, he would have to agree that even with modern-day technology,
that dark and gloomy hole that echoes with banshee screams and absolute silence is a
place for one and one only. You'd have to be crazy to go in there and try to fish a friend
out.



And now his best-friend and once-lover -Dag, had gone... dead and gone to be exact.
No wonder he went turnip, huh?

Frank Sinatra walked through the wattled-wall and glanced Adam's way, without a sound
-he wandered on in his search for his Rat-pack.

"Nobody gets left behind..." Adam muttered to himself and watched the sparks dance
in the flames of the hearth, he was alone and the monster was coming, he would be with
his fair-haired girl very soon and the pain in his chest would stop hounding him.

The heart -Adam mused as the tiny fairy-lights floated on the warm air of the crackling
fire, the organic-equivalent of Earth's long-ago Mail Service.
Red blood cells -all kitted-up with oxygen and a smile, set off along the highways and
byways of the body and deliver their goods. Then with leaden feet, they tramp back to the
Depot and fill-up again. Simple really.

So where does the heartache come from? why does it jerk at the tear-ducts and make the
stomach feel like you've just been kicked in the nuts?

Adam sniffed at the stench that soaked in through the hut's walls and showed a madman's
smile, all crooked and sappy.
Soon, he will be with Dag again.

The fire-glint of rhinestones pulled his grey-blue eyes away from the easy-moving flames
and there, leaning against the doorframe was a man in a one-piece white-jumpsuit.
A singer -Adam would wager -if his head hadn't been full of baked beans and a good-looking
one at that. The troupadour with the obviously-faked black hair smiled with a slight raised
lip, his eyes offered condolences for his insanity.

"Fella, yer gal needs yer' so why don't yer' check out of Heartbreak Hotel and get those
wheels a-rolling?" the stranger said with a drawl, the voice called of a memory.... another
man with a lop-sided grin. Adam shook his head and peered back at the open doorway.
He was alone again.

The heart, the word used to say where love resides, where hope and happiness play, and
where rage thunders around in it's rooms. No wonder they say the heart is the size of a fist.

"It's time" the voice came and Adam knew he was at his end, the monster that the girl-who-
wasn't-Dag and the others had talked about, that monster was here.
"Not today Adam, today is for another monster" said the tall shadow from the otherside of
the fire. With watered-eyes, the fair-haired man stumbled to his feet and held out his arms.

"Take me Death, I have ran my race and now I wish to be with my friend" he sobbed, but
held his chin high.
He had done questionable things in his life, but his heart had been true and he knew
that when he stood at the doors of heaven, he would stand proud... and she would run to
him.

Please play NOW!...

The Grim Reaper placed a hand on the under-fed shoulders of the human that had once
been a candidate for a Soul Reaper, a human that had slain one of it's own -just to get
back to his lover's side. Quite a man -Death thought to himself, a Healer and a Killer -all
in one.

The empty hut waited for the Giant and as a slight breeze weakly attempted to move
the mist away from the braken outside, nobody heard the soothing female-voice whisper
the words "thank you"