Through the Kisandra Prism (19 page)

The only communication he receives back is negative.

‘Kill!… Kill… we will kill you to revenge our sister.’

‘Amazing,’ says Admiral Sebus, ‘they have the power to enter our communication channels by just the power of telepathy.’

‘Shall we open fire Admiral?’ asks the Centurion.

‘No…we can return the cocoon later.’

The two infuriated sisters attack the clear Tellium observation window trying to gain access to the crew. Inside the craft, everyone watches with trepidation as the giant hornet-like creatures bite on the clear telium observation window; their meter-long stings probe for a weakness. Blodwyn watches in awe as their long stings began squirting copious amounts of yellow venom over the clear telium observation window.

‘Slowly increase speed to Demi-warp one,’ orders the Admiral.

As the warship accelerates, the two sisters are thrown off, unharmed.

‘We cannot now return Nemesis without conflict,’ says Sebus, ‘we have lingered here too long. I am aborting this quest…we must join the main fleet. We will leave the cocoon on Venus… The Lings there are of insect ancestry and will know how to tend the cocoon. Nemesis is dying!’ Admiral Sebus the wisest of the Galla Qualls was right – the Lings would know how to save Nemesis – but she would now be in another Galaxy - she would never see her two sisters again. Her two sisters in turn would never stop their search for their lost sister Queen.

Through the Kisandra Prism lies a Quadrent, dimly dark;

the eye will see no gentle, green meadows of emerald grass,

hear no sweet birdsong, of trilling wren or gay twittering lark.

No glittering dew drops hang, like twinkling drops of liquid glass.

Fleeting, quickly past all the dying sun’s fading glow of sadness;

you could be lost, but never know, what is false or what is true,

slowly sinking deeply into your own inner madness: lost in space!

Blodwyn awoke from her reality dream and felt totally refreshed but very hungry; she had slept for two months earth time. Putting on her spectacles she immediately felt dizzy, she did not need them: a miracle! It must have been the pale blue light; she could now see perfectly. She then went straight to the mirror just to make sure she had not returned to puberty, or that her milk teeth may have had reappeared; nothing had changed, she looked exactly the same.

Boochi the little Sisling was still in chrysalis.

Blodwyn headed straight for the cabinet and ate two home-made pork pies accompanied by a cheese and pickle sandwich; they were as fresh as the day they were made and were delicious. Suddenly a thought entered her mind: the short sighted Sillian had admired her spectacles.

She then quickly made her way to the bridge of the Time-ship.

‘Admiral Sebus,’ says Blodwyn greeting the Galla Quall,

‘I don’t know how to thank you… I can see perfectly now… it is a miracle.’

‘A simple technology,’ answers the Quall.

‘I would like to give my spectacles to the Sillian, where is it?’

The Admiral beckons Marcus over.

‘Escort Blodwyn to the Sillian,’ says the Admiral.

“Did the Quall not trust the Sillian alone with her?” Reaching the cabin of the Sillian, Marcus un-locks the door. The Sillian had been locked in. Why! The door slowly opens. The screwed up face of the feared Alien appears blinking in the light.

‘Ahhh Blodwyn,’ greets the Sillian… do come in.’

Blodwyn was shocked: the entire cabin was covered in sheets of thick web like a spider’s deadly parlor!

‘No!’ says Marcus bluntly, ‘the Terasil female will remain outside.’

Blodwyn now knew the Quall and the Ida Jaade did not trust this weird Alien alone with her.

‘I have brought you these glass-eyes… as a gift,’ says Blodwyn.

‘I am very touched,’ responds the deformed Sillian, ‘your gifts are the first I have ever received… in all my long years.’

The deformed Alien puts on the spectacles and looked ridicules.

‘Wonderful! I can now see you clearly Blodwyn.’

She wondered if she had done the right thing.

‘We must leave!’ Says the Centurion, you will be dropped off on Clyless minor, one of the moons of Jupiter – and make sure you clean the cabin before you leave.’

‘I will eat the web… I am rather hungry.’ Answers the Sillian.

Blodwyn knew arachnids ate their webs when live prey was not available. ‘Goodbye Tagamentaries Mengentarporus,’ says Blodwyn.

‘You remembered my name… I hope we will meet again,’ responds the Sillian, ‘and perhaps the next time you will enter my silken chamber as my guest!’ Blodwyn shuddered inwardly.

She left … “could she trust this hideous creature if they met again, if she was alone?” She reached the bridge and sat down while the Sillian was being dropped off on Clyless minor, a small rocky planet, where only small shrubs dotted the landscape. To her surprise the Time-ship did not land. The Sillian abseiled down on a wide band of silk, head first, six legs outstretched: just like a spider.

Awakening the following day she had two hot lamb pies in thick gravy; she loved her mother’s pastry. On the bridge she was just in time to watch their entrance into the Kisandra Prism: this time it was in real time and not a reality dream. A mass of different vivid shades flashed and swirled on the large screen before them. Her heart began to race. Because of its huge gravitational pull, the Kisandra Wormhole was the most dangerous entrance into the Fourth Quadrant. As the ship approached the Prism it opened up in a swirling blaze of vibrant colors.

The Galla Quall Time-ship slowed down to compensate for the immense destructive acceleration endured during entry into the Prism. The G-force pinned Blodwyn to the seat, everything whizzed past in a blur of spangled lights. She felt faint and rather queasy and now wished she had not eaten the lamb pies for breakfast…oh dear she was now feeling rather ‘Tom and Dick!’ What would they think of her if she was sick all over the intricate banks of complicated alien instruments, computers and controls! How embarrassing!

Safely on the other side of the Kisandra Wormhole, the ship had traveled one hundred light years in distance in a fraction of time; arriving exactly at the same time they had entered the Prism, the dark red and purple sky of the Fourth Quadrent looked angry and menacing. The Time-ship’s destination was the planets of the Sirus Archipelago – the lightest part of the dim, dying Fourth Quadrent.

This was indeed a dangerous place, one dotted with false and real Feeding Black Holes and Event Horizons – the most dangerous of phenomena within the entire universe. No space ship or planet could resist the pull of a feeding Black-hole. The speed at which a space ship or an entire planet might be pulled into its gaping mouth left an everlasting lifeless image: one last image before oblivion!

This Quadrant is a mysterious realm of illusions and disillusions; a case to believe or not to believe. To make a wrong judgment could be fatal, disastrous to any space ship.

On the bridge off the Time-ship commanded by the Galla Quall Admiral Sebus; the Ida Jaade Centurion, Marcus speaks – his red crest fully erect with anxiety.

‘Admiral, we are now approaching the dangerous Bodes of Sirus. Shall we past through it at full warp speed… I am sure some evil life-form dwells within.’

‘Then we should not disturb this life-form.’ answers the Admiral, ‘slow down to slow cruise speed…until we have passed the Bodes.’

‘Yes, Admiral,’ answers the Centurion, ‘once passed the Bodes do we seek permission to enter the air-space of the Shi-Larriss and the Jinnd Sir?’

‘The Jinnd already know we are here,’ answers Admiral Sebus knowingly, ‘we have good relations with Shi Larriss. Plot a direct course to the Sirus Archipelago. I would like to investigate several planets there,’ it adds delicately stroking its chin-like feature.

‘Admiral!’ exclaims an Ida Jaade sitting at the control consul; his red crest springing upright, ‘our scanners are picking up traces of anti-matter – from a feeding Black Hole – our ship will never survive the pull – should I engage thrusters to full warp Sir, to escape?’

‘If the Event Horizon is a reality… we are doomed regardless. Continue at slow cruise speed. Switch to main scanner,’ says Sebus.

Blodwyn had managed to get through a whole Hail Mary by this time. All avidly watch the screen. The mouth of the Event Horizon appears wide open and draws the ship towards the one way entrance of the feeding Black Hole – capable of swallowing everything.

Everyone is held spellbound at the terrible sight; a scrap yard of circling spacecraft, manned by silent crews, lifeless images of different known and unknown life-forms staring back blankly at them through the windows of their craft. Yet they were of no substance. Once a spaceship is pulled into a feeding Black Hole, such is the speed of entry that it leaves behind an image for eternity: an image of nothingness.

Suddenly the Black Hole disappears. High above the massive Time-ship, dwarfing it are two rather mischievous, indistinct, smiling cherubic faces looking down upon them.

‘This Event Horizon itself was an Illusion… a true reflection of a feeding Black-hole somewhere else,’ says Admiral Sebus, ‘steer a course to the Sirus Delta.’

‘But, Admiral Sebus,’ says the Centurion Marcus, ‘that course will take us into the air space of the Paranoid Ira-Brill.’

‘The ship will flash blue… the sign of goodwill… I believe I have met Iram Brill… the Admiral of their war-fleet some time ago… at a convention on Laruss-Five.’

The sleek Galla Quall Typhon Time-ship glides through the air space of the Ira-Brill, flashing blue, a signal of friendship – recognized throughout the Antares Cluster by all the advanced aliens.

‘Creator,’ announces an Ida Jaade, his red crest rising erect, ‘we are being hailed by a warship – the Paranoid Iraa-Brill!’

‘Do not even whisper… the word ‘paranoid.’ advises Admiral Sebus, ‘the Iraa-Brill have the most efficient hearing powers. Just the word
paranoid
will send the Iraa-Brill into a fit of extreme Paranoia.’

Blodwyn watches as the images of two very unusual aliens appear on screen. They are dressed exactly the same in smart yellow and green uniforms. Their small multi hooded eyes project from the sides of their anthill-shaped heads; giving them all around vision. They are able to swivel each eye, so could see forward and backward at the same time. They reminded Blodwyn of two pompous chameleons with pointed heads. Their ears are round and large and, like their eyes, constantly swiveled backwards and forwards picking up every sound; it is never wise to talk or make any rude gesture behind the back of a Paranoid Iraa-Brill!

Both of the Iraa Brill aliens look identical. Not only did all Iraa Brill look alike but even their names sound similar.

‘Greeting Admiral Iram-Brill… I am Admiral Sebus the Galla Quall. We met at the last Laruss-five conference.’

‘I am not Admiral Iram-Brill – Admiral Sebus – I am Admiral Irad-Brill – this is Admiral Irib Brill – are you saying we Iraa Brill all look alike?’ He accuses.

‘Forgive my mistake… we Galla Qualls can make simple mistakes. Your names are similar…’

‘Are you now implying we Iraa-Brill do not have the imagination to choose names that don’t sound the same?’

‘Again, forgive me,’ apologizes Admiral Sebus diplomatically, ‘we Galla Qualls do not have the fine tuned ears of the Iraa-Brill. In fact you could say we Galla Qualls have no ears at all.’

The two Iraa-Brill laugh. They are happy to laugh at others; for that is their nature. However they soon turn serious again, when another paranoid thought enters their ant-hill shaped heads.

‘Then perhaps Admiral Sebus… you are hinting that the efficient ears of the Iraa-Brill are too large … perhaps you also consider our eyes are placed too far apart,’ accuses Admiral Irib-Brill, ‘which some races like the Galid-Ice-e-Kia consider the sign of low intelligence.’

‘On the contrary,’ answers Sebus, ‘we personally consider the further apart the eyes, the larger the brain…it is simple logic.’

‘And the eyes of the Galid-Ice-e-Kia,’ answers Admiral Irib Brill, ‘are so close together they nearly touch. We Iraa Brill joke: “it would be impossible to make a laser bullet small enough to shoot a Galid-Ice-e-Kia between their eyes!” Both Iraa-Brill laugh again – till another paranoid thought enters their minds,

‘Do your species ever refer to us as the ‘
paranoid’
Iraa-Brill in conversation Admiral Sebus?’

‘We hold the Iraa-Brill in great esteem… your technology and your physical attributes are known to many.’

‘Meaning what?’ asks Admiral Irib Brill suspiciously.

‘A gust of wind will knock a Galla Quall down… but if we had suckers on our feet and hands like the Iraa Brill….’

The two Iraa-Brill bow their anthill shaped heads in acceptance of this complement and take time off to admire the suckers on their hands and their stubby bare feet.

‘That is well answered Admiral,’ says Iram Brill ‘is there anyway we can help?’

‘Perhaps you have recollections of the Mandrill-faced, Dandy Indra visiting this sector?’ Sebus asks hoping to find the missing Ida Jaade females.

‘Those baboon-faced Jack-of-apes, dandies – everyone knows they have hair between their toes – they would not dare come in range of our latest Apex torpedoes,’ answers Irib Brill.

‘Then perhaps you know where to seek the Paradise tree?’ Sebus asks. Both paranoid Iraa Brill laugh.

‘You have more chance finding an honest ‘Sand-swimmer’ with two legs than finding a Paradise tree Admiral Sebus. An intelligence tree… with feelings? titter… titter.’

‘It is written in our ancient chronicles,’ answers Admiral Sebus.

‘Then your chronicles need to be un-written!’ says Irad Brill,

Both Iraa Brill laugh at their own joke.

‘Then perhaps you can tell us where we can find the ….’ Admiral Sebus is cut short by the Paranoid Ira Brill.

‘We wish you a safe journey home Admiral Sebus, do not linger in this Quadrent over long!’

The screen goes dead abruptly.