Canto Twenty-Five – Inside the Bio-dome
As Davalon, Tanith, and both of the Morrells scurried into the airlock of the Bio-dome, Brekka, Menolly, and George Jetson, already naked, were merely standing around watching them. There was a lizard girl covered in green and yellow scales, more human-looking than any Telleron, completely naked too, and only about the size of an eight-year-old human.
“Why aren’t you running?” cried Alden Morrell.
“Take off your clothes,” said the lizard girl, “and then you don’t have to worry either.”
“What? Why?”
Alden had gone all red in the face, a look that Davalon had come to know as embarrassment.
“The guardian machine-man reads anything artificial as signs of a scabby.” The lizard girl seemed no more embarrassed by her nudity than were the tadpoles. “It looks for manufactured goods like clothing or weapons to determine a target. Naked you become part of the flora and fauna that it guards.”
Davalon and Tanith quickly stripped down and the Morrells were forced to follow suit. When the machine-man came into the chamber, all clothing, skortch rays, monitors, computers, and tracking devices that the tadpole expedition had brought with them lay in a pile in a corner by the door. The artificial man wandered over to the pile, examined it, picked up a few items, and then put them down again. Davalon wondered at Alden, all red in the face, hands clamped over his genital area. Gracie, it seemed, was far more comfortable being nude and did not display the same behaviors.
“When can we get dressed again?” asked Alden immediately after the machine-man left.
“Never,” said the lizard girl. “I have a number of still-functioning machine-men guarding this place and all the bio-forms in it. You are only safe as long as you remain completely natural and bear no artificial clothing or gear.”
“We have to be naked as long as we’re here?” Poor Alden seemed distressed.
“It’s all right, Alden,” said Gracie with a huge grin. “You haven’t looked this good naked in a number of years. You need to let go and learn to love your new body. I certainly think you are handsome!”
Alden grimaced uncomfortably. Davalon agreed with Gracie. His foster father’s child-like form was not at all unpleasant to look at. In fact, he was beautiful to a Telleron tadpole who loved him for all the sacrifices he had made to be here with his foster son of another world. He had given up life in Iowa. He had given up his home and all his possessions. He had given up his former identity as Alden Morrell, Iowa farmer. And he had even given up his adult body to return to the body he had inhabited as a child so he could be the same age as his wife in her new simuloid body.
“You are Sizzahl?” Davalon asked the little naked lizard girl.
“Yes. I brought you here. Hopefully your cart is full of plants, seeds, and spores that I can use to save this world. I might need samples of your flesh and blood as well.”
“You brought us here to eat us?” squealed Brekka.
“Of course not, stupid frog-girl. I just mean I might have use for your froggy DNA.”
Davalon noticed how human-like she was. Sizzahl had no hair. She had a bony ridge on the centerline of the top of her head, and she was covered in soft-looking hexagonal scales, but otherwise she looked very human. Her body proportions were the same as an Earther primate. Her eyes had vertically-slitted pupils, but her face was human-shaped. Even her pre-pubescent breasts and genitals looked more human than Telleron-like.
“Why would you need our DNA?” asked Tanith.
“Haven’t you noticed? The biosphere of this planet is dying. The stupid politicians, warriors, and industrialists killed it by over-using and abusing all of its natural resources. And besides, boneheads like Senator Tedhkruhz poisoned what was left to bring his enemies down without realizing he would kill himself too.”
“How will you do that kind of restorative science without artificial devices?” asked George Jetson.
“There is plenty of tech built into this place that we can use without ever having to carry any of it with us and reveal ourselves to the machine-men.”
“How does that protect us from the scabbies?” Davalon asked.
“The scabbies are like the creatures in your Earther zombie movies. They carry whatever they were wearing or carrying in life. They don’t have enough brains left to get naked and put down their weapons. The few that wander in here naked are fairly easy for me to kill by myself. I assume that will be even easier now that you are all here to help me.”
“Who said we were willing to help you?” asked George Jetson.
“Will you not help me?” asked Sizzahl. Her eyes, though snake-like, seemed almost to beg. All tadpole eyes turned toward Davalon.
“I don’t see any reason not to,” Davalon said.
*****
Catch a Falling Star 
Holiday Mixed Nuts
I know what this is. This is Grandma Aldrich’s holiday nut bowl with nut-cracker and silver walnut picks. It brings back fond memories of Thanksgiving Day and Christmas reunions that were filled with nuts. And, yes, I mean that figuratively as well as literally. I tend to really love nuts.
And one of the most insidious things about Facebook is the fact that it connects you to all the nuts from your checkered past, and memories like this can come back to haunt you any day or any month… not just at holiday family gatherings.
I probably don’t have to remind you that the incredible spray-tanned intellectual-fartgas-container this country elected as its next leader is not, and will never be, my president. I reject him in his every detail. He is anathema to everything I stand for and believe in. And some of my lovely Iowegian Facebook friends are responsible for for helping him win. I have not unfriended anybody as they may have done to me. I am still constantly amused by them and their families, even though their choice offends me. But I do get tired of being bombarded with Brazil nuts of “He won, get over it! We endured 8 years of your president!” I hate Brazil nuts. They are difficult to crack open, especially with the skinny, silver nutcracker you see in the picture above. And after you go to all that effort, they don’t taste very good. Brazil nuts are always the last nuts in the nut bowl because nobody actually likes them. And besides, I don’t remember Republicans in Congress accepting defeat under Obama gracefully. They kicked and spit and shut down the government in a hissy fit. What do they have against the government trying to make healthcare affordable, anyway? Still, I get those big, hard, oddly-shaped nuts in my Facebook feed constantly this time of year.
My sister posted the meme you see above on my Facebook wall. She says it is actually quite easy to become a complete master of doing what the meme suggests, by which she means me more so than her. I like walnuts. They are hard to crack, but not impossible like Brazil nuts. And once you have split them into two haves, two separate turtle shells, you still have to pick the walnut meat out of a hard, spiky labyrinth of dastardly convoluted walls of interior shell. But you end up with something delicious if you put in the time picking things apart. I fondly remember singing goofy Christmas carols with my two sisters and half-dozen cousins at Grandma and Grandpa Aldrich’s farm this time of year. Elaborate versions of “I’m dreaming of a pink-and-purple-polka-dotted Christmas…” and “Jingle bells, Batman smells…” My sister is often critical of me and doubts my sanity, as a good sister should, but in the long run, we have some sweet memories to share, good times and incredibly goofy nonsense to look back upon.
But, of course, everybody’s favorite nut is the peanut. Those are the first to disappear from the nut bowl. Holiday gatherings are mainly about eating, but the most important second-place thing is everybody’s self-generated house apes… the next generation of little Beyers and Aldrich’s and Fimblegrubbers and Pumblechooks (yes, I know I am not actually related to Fimblegrubbers or Pumblechooks, but I like funny names, and I have to live with the funny-named people who attend our family gatherings). We all enjoy watching them play games of “infuriate your sister” or “chase Grampy’s dog till it bites you” because they are funny, adorable and cute. Sometimes they even play with mutant toy Elmo-looking things like the one in the picture, though I didn’t draw this from a family member, and I added the mutant features to avoid questions of copyright infringement.
Anyway, holidays are notoriously full of nuts, both literal and figurative. And we really have to learn to appreciate them all.
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Tagged as Brazil nuts, family reunions, making people angry, nuts, Peanuts, politics, walnuts