Canto Forty – In the Bio-Dome Command Center
Davalon and Tanith found themselves naked and alone in the command center, looking at monitors and trying to figure out what was actually going on in the Bio-Dome.
“Do you think we can really trust Sizzahl, Dav?” Tanith asked. Her large and beautiful eyes looked into the heart of Davalon, Son of Xiar… at least he felt that they did.
“I wonder… She is not hiding the fact that she plans on exploiting us for her own reasons. In fact, she has exploited us in bringing us here with those plants she tried to rescue.”
“That’s true.” Those amazing eyes turned downward towards the floor. “I was wondering after Brekka was almost eaten by that alien plant why she didn’t tell us that it was there… you know, warn Brekka and the others away from the flower garden?”
“Yeah, I was wondering that too. She doesn’t seem to care very much if we live or die.”
The two Telleron tadpoles looked at the monitors. The black-and-white picture screens showed no movement except that of the Morrells and Sizzahl in the cloning facility and the others in the crew quarters. Everywhere throughout the facility the plants and the animals of the Bio-Dome lay mostly brown and dead. Only the lone zhar-doe continued to wander and look for food as if it were still trying to survive.
“Do you think this planet deserves to be dying like it is?” Davalon asked.
Tanith looked him directly in the eyes. “Planets never deserve anything that happens to them. Comets strike the surface… species go extinct… all life comes to an end… none of that happens because a planet did something wrong.”
“What about the Galtorrian people?”
“I actually like Sizzahl. She’s so smart and she works so hard… But these lizard people… ugh!”
“They’ve poisoned the whole biosphere. They eat each other… like our people used to do… and they don’t even have to. They don’t need to recycle protein and flesh in order to maintain their population and food supply.”
Tanith nodded her agreement. “These Galtorrian lizard people are creatures from a nightmare.”
“Yeah,” said Davalon. He realized how much he and Tanith always agreed on things. She was more than his nest-mate. She was his friend, his best friend. If he was ever going to be old enough to be allowed to breed offspring, a rare privilege for space-faring Tellerons, he would want to do it with Tanith. He actually felt he understood the love between Alden and Gracie when he looked at Tanith. Davalon loved Tanith.
“What do we do next?” Tanith looked to Dav for leadership. He really wasn’t sure what the best course of action was. They were committed to the present course of action. Their space ship was wrecked and quite some distance from the Bio-Dome. If they were to have any hope of living through this adventure, they had to find some way to make this place livable, at least until Xiar’s rescue party found them. Would Xiar send a rescue party? Dav didn’t know.
“We have to help Sizzahl for now. We don’t have any other choices. At least, not yet.”
“Davalon, I would die to protect you and keep you from harm.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
“But you feel that way about all the tadpoles. You’re a hero. But I mean just you. You are the one Telleron that I couldn’t live without.”
Davalon looked at beautiful, naked, green Tanith standing there in front of him, not only without a single stitch of clothing on her, but more personally naked than he had ever seen her before. Her soul was bare. “And I repeat… I feel the same way about you. You are that one Telleron for me.”
She put both her arms around his neck and hugged him breathless. She was crying softly. And all he could think to do was hug her in return.
*****
The Be-Bop Beat of Mickey’s Brain
Truthfully, when I look back at the string of posts in the picket fence of this daily blog, I fail to see the overall map of it in any semblance of pattern or order. Honestly, I did not set out to be purposefully wacky.
I did, however, set out to be purposefully surreal. I mean it, I consciously put bizarrely dissimilar things together in an attempt to find parallels and connections in unlike things because, not only is it funny and surprising, but is a comic act that serves to keep the mind nimble and never numb. I do think quite a lot. And I try to see connections between things where others wouldn’t. For instance, the Coppertone girl with her bare butt and Bullwinkle with his unicycle are both being threatened in a way that is both comic, and taking advantage of their inherent image of innocence. Neither will lose anything by it. The girl stands to brown her pale white behind in the sun, while Bullwinkle will probably land on his head and it will make a decent cushion to preserve him because of it’s empty and rubbery qualities.
I must also admit to a bit of the old telling of stretchers, the misrepresentation of the truth, the loquacious layer-onner of lies. Not Trumpian lies that land on you like elephants dropped like bombs out of B-52’s. Instead, fictions that entertain and elucidate. It is the most likely reason I keep saying connecting words and phrases like “truthfully” and “honestly” and “I mean it”. Those are words that liars love.
Yes fiction writers like me tell little white lies.
I have now published my novel Recipes for Gingerbread Children. It is a novel based on real people I have known and loved and listened to. It is about an old German woman, a survivor of WWII concentration camps, who loves to tell stories to children and bake gingerbread cookies, especially gingerbread men. It features a pair of teenage nudist girls who believe in going completely naked whenever you are indoors, even if you are in someone else’s house. It features Nazis, both in flashback and ghostly forms. It also features fairies from the Hidden Kingdom of Tellosia, a fairy kingdom filled with little three-inch tall magical people living under our very noses. And it has a werewolf in it, though admittedly a very young one. It is a comedy with its requisite sad parts, and it is definitely an example of surrealism. It is also full of lies… err, I mean fiction.
But the real purpose of this supposedly be-bop brain fart in blog-post form is not so much to explain my blog (because how do you explain a blog that goes from Flashbacks and Foobah to telling about Madman Trump to Another novel part… #37 to Centaurs to a book and movie review, to this eccentric and eclectic thing, which probably exists more to make alliteration jokes than anything else in the most musical beat I can bang out?) but to prove that I do often think about thinking and how things fit together and what it all means… and how to write a run-on sentence that adds to the effect rather than simply annoys. And, yeah, I’m doing that. And it feels like a good thing to do.
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