TILT
Prologue
We like to fashion ourselves after the outlaws of the old, their stories had a glamour in them with a favorable romantic ploy involved. But these stories, at least the ones that come to us by word of mouth, do not capture the hardships that these so called outlaws had to go through. We speak highly of those who were awarded the death sentence, be it a bullet or the gallows. People speak of a quick and easy death, but what would they know of that fraction of a second of humongous, mind bending pain that drags on to eternity at least in their cognition? What of that brief second of selfishness when all that they can think about is their loved one(s), wondering if losing your life for such a paltry cause is worth that? A cause that involved the overthrow of all those machinations that question the very security of their loved ones? What of the pain suffered by the ones that they leave behind? Having to live and relive the incident by recanting the bloody story to all those visitors who can’t have enough of the gory ending.
We live in a cruel world. Have you ever come across a person caught in the worst of an accident and mangled to death, or worse, screaming in agony inviting the death that is lurking just out of reach? The death mocking him or her, playing hide and seek, displaying its rather malicious yet childish streak? Have you seen people engaging in all sorts of gymnastics to look at the said person, caught in some cleft of the killing machine, out of reach but not out of sight? The way they gape and later puke or walk away shrugging and shaking their heads?
Everybody has at least a dab of this craving for violence and gore in their lives. What makes them human at least part of the way is their ability to hamper this dab from spreading, from smearing the mental makeup of the person with gaudy shades of red and black, thoughts of hurt and suffering, ideas of violence and it’s impending wallop. There have been many attempts at converting this piebald, chequered character of man into smoother shades of cool blue. People wanting to master the science of evolution, taking into consideration not the “survival of the fittest” motto but inventing a new one, “co-existence of the dovish”.
If we could leave the ethical implications aside, stem cell research coupled with cloning could make this possible. Do not be misled by this motto of pacifism though. Infact, great movements and even greater thoughts are not always guided by a noble mind. They are laced, and sometimes very heavily, with a selfish and egotistic urge to rule, the more peace loving the race, the lesser the number of squirmishes in the kingdom. This coupled with a limited amount of knowledge of the workings of a democratic system among the masses, an ideal realm for a conceited person(s) to rule over. They could give themselves the right to erase entire hordes of population, if they find them up in arms or if they just took a fancy! This tale is about one such conceited band of people who had both the wealth and the brains to bring about such a society. A band of people who gave themselves power to start over Creation again, right from the mythical rib that mothered the feminine to the fabled Noah’s ark that carried two of every kind, albeit with a convoluted sense of purpose.
This tale is told as not a transcript for the reader to read and dole out dictums about the doings of the characters but rather as a reminder of the depths to which the human cognition and purpose can reach in order to satiate their sense of “righteousness”.
- posted by Swetha @ 1/17/2005 11:05:00 AM 2 comments
The Stage is set!
Chapter 1
It was a bar in one of the less safe parts of Teglico, a planet of near earth like ambience but populated by the natives who were notorious for their hatred towards their earthly not-so-near neighbors. The reason for such an aversion towards the species was never known. For a person viewing it from an outsider point of view, it would look like a hereditary feeling, passed on from one generation to the next. The fact that there was not one dissenter in the whole planet to this charade was in itself unsettling.
Two teglicans seem to be discussing the course that their career would take in one corner of the bar. What they ought to do and not to do, what the government should be doing and should not be doing, what they would do and would not do if given a free reign in running the establishment.
As the conversation trickled on and at last as it started veering , steered albeit cunningly by Ojwa, towards the sensitive aspects of Baromoi’s nature of work, the latter got up saying, “I have a meeting with our commander today; remember I am scheduled for the change in role duty today? Guess this is some sort of an orientation complete with brochures to let me choose, ok, ciao!”
With that Baro ambled away making little use of his rear tentacles. Ojwa was impressed in spite of his visible failure at his prying antics; he had tried to achieve that aristocratic gait many times in the confines of his hive but it was always accompanied with disastrous results, mostly at the cost of loosing a well tentakelcured (a vice he is not able to get rid of) tentacle, which was minor, but during some unfortunate instances, he had even suffered a wrick in one of his heads for which he couldn’t even meet a tinkerer. Being one of the low rung teglican, he was lucky to be acquainted with Baro. He didn’t want to jeopardize that by trying to ape the royal gait and getting caught. He was a fool but not a dimwit exactly. He occasionally did try to gather some information from Baro, always hoping that he would let slip some aspect of his job that would help Ojwa capitalize, he had no scruples about such a living, to him it was all a trade, a trade of information that is, he was a believer in the free trade pact!
In another part of the bar:
“Tomorrow is the draw … I am scared Karamoi, I cannot go on living like this, depending on a draw. Now I wonder, ‘why didn’t I study better?’, I could have at least been a bureaucrat of Teglico than serving as a watchercrop in that Gumba forsaken place.” Sageroloi was very easily the most human looking teglican around, only 2 heads and near limb like tentacles going on to prove the fact that sometimes even mutants are prized possessions; there was no doubt why he was chosen as the watchercrop. He was dreading meeting with the commander. It’s not everyday that the commander summons a low level teglican for a meeting. Little was he aware of the irony.
Sometimes the evil that we face could be as naïve as that of a kid’s boogeyman as compared to what we don’t know. Kind of reminds you of the verse “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter!” with a bizarre twist of meaning!
Chapter 2
The commander’s concentration was broken by the knock on the door. He was finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at tentacle already, with all those worries about the trinket and the fast approaching deadline by which he ought to get it back. He does not deserve to be treated like this. He was a commander for Gumba’s sake. Also the secrecy that goes along with this trinket crippled him due to the loss of his resources.
“Trust is a sure shot way to lose the trinket”, they said. “It’s a valuable trinket” they said.
What a paradox! He knew his language to say that the sentence itself is flawed in its literal meaning. But he had seen the chief citizen’s face when he called the commander for the confession.
“The trinket is gone Grapo”, he said that fateful day when this whole bushel of grenades was dropped on his lap. Grapo was confused; he didn’t know what the chief was talking about. He has had enough meetings with the chief to know not to interrupt him when he was at the best of his moods, let alone now.
He could vaguely remember his granny talking about some jewel that apparently held the secrets about their origins and that if it fell in the wrong hands it would mean their doom. However, as he became a learned man, he began to realize that there was no such thing, that his evolution could be charted exactly. To think that his ancestors were still alive in another part of the galaxy, oblivious to the fact that they’ve already been contacted by the so called ET’s, but were too stupid in realizing the truth which is literally hobbling around in front of their eyes, was a nightmare.
Chapter 3
Elsewhere, on planet earth, Warthog was in dire straits. He was fleeing across the streets of the city. He was cursing himself for his callousness, he had no business showing his face in the bars, let alone getting drunk and babbling. He was sober now, nothing like a conned, grudging, dumb-head charging after you with bloody murder in their mind to make you feel human again. But he wasn’t to be blamed either. Being stupid and believing Warty’s word that he can get a place in the council was the poor dud’s mistake. God knows it had been tough to find a dud who would believe that he could bribe his way into the council. Ever since the anti-graft movement of that maniac Mathau Blinger - may he roast in hell - the very livelihood of Warty has been in peril. He knew only conning and that too was at peril now. He knew that he had to do something about it. He wouldn’t be able to afford Clementine anymore. Thinking about Clementine, even under these circumstances, made him feel better. Nobody like her, if he could, he would buy her off and run away to the mythical Teglico, but that was not to be and he knew he should consider himself blessed to be able to meet her once in a week.
There, an open door, he barged in. It had all the likeness of a dark tunnel with a light at the end of it. He suddenly remembered one of his favorite songs
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel,
Was just a freight train coming your way!!
He made sure that he heaved the bulky door to and started trotting down the tunnel. On reaching the end, he peered around. He felt he had walked into the sets of “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory!!” or something. He had watched the movie on the sly, you were not supposed to own anything from AGO, but somehow he had found one in an alley overgrown with wild grass (need less to say, again hiding from another of his “customers!”)
The inside of the room was like nothing he had seen before. There were many islands of cylindrical capsules with one end tapered; these reminded him of the loo’s you find in the gas stations, except that they seemed to be illuminated from within, almost to the extent of becoming translucent and he could observe some man-like shapes inside. The only word he could think of was “Psychedelic!” Just then he heard a voice from somewhere near the vicinity of his elbow, “May I help you?”
Chapter 4
Now, something needs to be said about the way things were running on earth. It was the 28 LR (l'année de renaissance). Nobody knew exactly how it translated into AD and neither would they try. The important doctrine behind the LR theme was forget the past, we’d do better without the garbage of the past. God knows it had taken an immense effort to clean up the mess. If Mathau Blinger speared the cause for anti-graft, it was Romaasha Krichtov’s movement to bring in the changes that we are living in now. She spear headed the cause of cloning for the good and stem cell research for the betterment of the human race. She didn’t have a degree in psychology but she knew too well that it is next to impossible to coax or cajole or threaten men/women into mending their disgusting ways of procreation, which was the root cause of the HIV pandemic. They shouldn’t have let the virus pass around that much and then keep inventing medicines to tackle after the infection. Sort of like locking the barn a little late! The virus predictably mutated and went on to become a major flu like epidemic leading to a lot of horrible deaths. The rate of degeneration was exponential with only a handful of people surviving, the greatest minds of the century, who had been privy of this breakout - they had been predicting such a disaster for over a decade, but their dire predictions were faced with ridicule and in the totally degenerated society they didn’t care - had made preparations for their salvage. They had an underground network and all the people with similar thoughts had assembled just before disaster stuck, their pantries were well stocked with goods and they also had a good and healthy livestock. They had all the wealth and resources on hand. Nothing could be done about the virus raging outside, but they knew that if nature was let to run its course, sooner or later she would wipe the virus out of existence, no matter how many mutations it went through.
With so many great minds stacked together, and no self righteous groups crying “bloody murder” about their experiments, the scientists conducted a lot of researches on men and animals alike. They had perfected the method of isolating the gene sequence responsible for modeling the stem cell into the amygdala, the part of our Limbic System responsible for pleasure and pain. They found that on making this part underdeveloped, they could control the human predilection to reproduce obnoxiously and also some STD’s. This was a major breakthrough and thus was born a major chapter in the history of human kind, The New Connivance (NC), as it was called.
The scientists then proceeded to cultivate human beings with altered personalities which accentuated their intellectual capabilities and downplayed their animal instincts. They were produced neutral of all the diseases that their now-dead shabby peers were prone too. The world became a better place to live in. After sending out probes to test the environmental conditions, they at last surfaced 28 years ago. Ever since, they’ve wiped out the past and have instituted a new year system LR - l'année de renaissance.
This system of LR and The New Connivance consisted of multitudes of such pockets of high scientific activities, on surfacing; they found that they were not the only techies who survived. During a common meeting, they founded The New Connivance. There were a few dissidents who did not agree to the autocratic rule. They believed in the right to live as per will and as they were outnumbered by the people who, blinded by their success at something as great as curtailing reproduction, silenced them by lures/threats. One such who was silenced was Togadierre Fralampine, the one whom Warthog bumped into!
Chapter 5
Warthog was stumped on seeing such an ugly excuse for a human being. Another thing that the NC abhorred was disfigurement, either congenital or accidental. Warthog himself was considered a freak. Owing to some bizarre incident in the lab, the computer which was sequencing and modifying his genes had run some errant sequences reserved for experimentation and not for large scale production. As a result he was born with a large wart on his left cheek, bow legs, stunted growth and gorilla like long arms. He was sort of an outcast, a Hässlich, as people call them. Clementine was also one, she was also a product of that mishap and another thing that the computer failed to alter was the amygdala growth and control. That itself should explain the camaraderie and kinship that Warthog felt for her. He was capable of emotion and was as close to what you call a normal human.
On looking down at Togadierre, he felt he himself must look like some handsome Adonis next to this stunted bonsai! “Hello there!! Who are you?” he asked.
“A bit tall don’t u think, barging into my domicile and asking me who I am? Anyways, I cannot miss a fellow Hässlich when I see him. Hello! My name is Togadierre Fralampine, how do you do, how do you do and how do you do again!” the stunted excuse of a human being said.
A sudden wave of surrealism swept over Warthog. He strangely felt love for this guy but his lengthy answer sounded rote! Having been constantly ribbed and taunted for his looks, never being accepted in the “sosayiteee”, to be welcomed into a house with such kinship was strange. Nobody but Clementine treated him as a human, for what he truly was! “Hello!” he said hesitantly, not knowing what to do, he proceeded to peer around the corner of the arch to see if the door was being opened, it would, any moment now if the NC’s watchercrops’s had gotten around to attending the dumbo’s call yet. They would appear in no time and they have the authority to break down any door or building or any head if it comes to that!!
He felt someone tug at his pants, he turned around, looked down at Togadierre and said, “Scoot fella, I’ll be outa here in no time. Just you mind your toesies and let me mind mine!” He was surprised to find that Togadierre was in fact smiling at him with just a hint of sarcasm.
“What do you think they’ll do to you buddy? You’ve been a thorn long enough and this time I think you’ll just be done away with! What is it? Your 53rd dig?”
“Well, actually 56th, but how do you know?”
“Well, I’ve been keeping a tag on you for sometime mon ami, what do you say to me helping you get away from here, with your Clementine of course” he added with a bit if a smirk, “To Teglico?”
“Teglico? The Teglico? You think I am loco senor? Forget it! Just think that I never happened ok? I’ll be leaving now!”
“No my friend, someone who enters my abode may not leave without my consent, one more step and you will never know what hit you. Being put to death by the watchercrops would seem like a lullaby to you compared to this!”
“Ha! In your dreams pal!”
With this Warty walked off towards the door, but just as he was about to set his hand on the door, he felt some huge force bind him, he felt crushed, as though he was caught between the jaws of a giant vice. Suddenly he felt the floor let go and he fell through a tube that looked like Plexiglas. He has skydived a few times and was a sucker for roller coasters, but this was too much for him. At a point almost 6G’s were acting on his body and he felt the suffocation, black dots danced in front of his eyes, his entire being was screaming for oxygen, he could feel his lungs burn, his extremities had become cold and he understood what Togadierre meant by painful alright!! “OK OK you damn it, I’ll listen to what you say, now let me go!”
“That’s talking some sense my friend, especially from someone like you!”
He heard the old man chuckle and all of a sudden he felt the pressure let up, he collapsed into a heap of clothes on the floor, floor? Now wait a minute, he was still in the place where he was standing, no floor opening, no Plexiglas. The innate curiosity in him was kindled.
“Just what in hell’s name have you got here Monsieur Frampy?”
Chapter 6
Baro ambled into Commander Grapo’s room after the cursory knock at exactly 36000 seconds from midnight as time is calculated in seconds, not in hours or minutes in Teglico. He was astounded by the commander's appearance. The teglican, usually the nattiest of all the court holders in the entire planet, had put on a disheveled look. His court livery, worn usually in an almost impeccable style, like a sheet of steel woven underneath, was sagging at places. His peremptory robes were arranged such a careless manner that the usual nine folds signifying his position in the echelon of power was not maintained. It infact numbered almost 16, not even the chief citizen had that many. It was reserved only for the great Gumba to wear folds beyond the magical number of 13. Baro himself had 5. When the commander walked around the desk to welcome Baro into his room, as is the usual teglican practice, he also noticed that he was not employing the royal gait; in fact he was staggering along, like a waif that hasn’t been weaned yet. Baro, somewhat of a head shrinker himself knew that the lapse was more due to anxiety or depression, when one would want more than ever to return to their innocent days than face the situation at tentacle, an escapist attitude that did not bode well. It reflected a deeply disturbed mind and furthermore, he also knew that the degree of lurch indicated how far gone the person really was. Commander Grapo looked almost gone!
“Hello there Baro! Thanks for stopping by. I was wondering when you would turn up coz as far as I can remember I didn’t mention any time!”
Baro who had to struggle to get himself under control, the initial shock was too much, smiled back saying, “Come on commander, being a teglican, if I don’t know the time for an official rendezvous, I am not fit enough to be in the legion!”
“Never mind the legion or official dictums Baro; if only you knew the reason why I summoned you to my office, these paltry things would hardly matter. Heck, there may not even be a Teglico to begin with, let alone the legion! OK, take a seat coz I don’t think your tentacles will support you if I tell you about your new charge!”
With such an ominous opening statement, Grapo stumbled back to his seat and Baro hesitantly took up a seat besides Grapo as is done in Teglico. It created a hell of a strain on his neck but that is how it’s done. He has often wondered as to why they can’t sit face to face and parle like the humans do, but then again, probably because the humans do it that way, it is not being done so, understandable. Nothing that the despicable humans can do should be attempted by a teglican.
Chapter 7
So, thus sitting beside Grapo did Baro with increasing but well concealed alarm hear about his charge. He, Baro, was to under all circumstances, at whatever risk, retrieve something called “the Jardine Trinket”. According to latest reports, the trinket had been smuggled to Earth, on their latest Ray Illume©. Although this was still under testing, as the initial testing with humans was over, Baro had to take the same Ray Illume© and reach planet earth. He was to leave at exactly 81000 seconds the same day. The suspect was a Hässlich. This would cover a lot of territory; nobody can forget the ghastly computer mis-sequence of a few years back which lead to the production of almost 150,000 Hässlichs before the error was corrected. Trouble always comes when you try to use something the humans had developed, even if they were improved upon by the teglicans. They should have developed it themselves from scratch.
Baro was not supposed to let anybody in on whatever is happening. Anybody who gets to know about this accidentally will either be (a) terminated, bad or (b) mutated to a human, worse. If he, Baro, himself lets someone in on this, he was to be sent to earth without disguise where the humans are not known to tolerate a teglican and were known to wrought terrible tortures if one were captured. Baro suppressed a shudder. There were a million questions welling up, too many doubts, a lot of insecurities, a tank-load of curiosity, but he knew that commander Grapo preferred asking questions and handing out commands, he wasn’t one to answer any of either, except of course if from the chief citizen, which too was under speculation. The commander is known to have communications with the great Gumba himself. The careless way in which he handles any invitation from the chief citizen, the way he can interrupt him and talk him down and the way the chief citizen almost always cows down in front of Grapo were all indications of such a connection but nothing could be proved. All that the people knew were that Grapo was someone you don’t cross paths with, whom you don’t want to displease and whom you don’t want to be remembering your name at all!
“So then Grapo, what are you waiting for? Get on; go to the armory where you’ll find your livery for this particular travel ready accompanied by a few gadgets that are actually under testing but have been proven non-fatal to humans at least when they use them. You will be accompanied on this quest by one of our first level watchercrop by name Sageroloi! My meeting with him has been scheduled right after your briefing. After I’ve spoken with him I’ll send him to the armory where you should be waiting for him. No word about this trinket should be mentioned to Sageroloi. Suffice to say that you are on a covert operation to negotiate with the humans for the release of a certain Hässlich, who you suspect is helping the humans travel to Teglico. We do believe that there is one such so it wouldn’t be entirely false and we also believe that this Hässlich should be able to help you a bit. OK, I digress, am too keyed up about this mission that I am doing the entire briefing myself, no, go over to the armory where the technicalities and the scheme shall be explained to you by my second-in-command, Krakolin. Farewell then my friend, I wish you all the best in your adventure and may the great Gumba see to your path such that it is kept illuminated all the way through”.
As though this small discourse had tired him, Grapo settled back in his chair with a heart rendering sigh. Being thus dismissed, Baro left the commander’s chambers with his mind at a greater turmoil than he had ever imagined himself capable of.
He saw an almost human like teglican cooling off his heals just outside the door. ‘That must be Sageroloi’, he thought to himself and trooped over to the armory.
Chapter 8
On seeing the 5th level watchercrop sauntering away, Sageroloi buffed up to make him self presentable to the commander. He was almost certain that he is going to Earth on a mission. Heck, he was even ready to accept it, what other choice did he have? He only hoped that it wasn’t something too dangerous. He wasn’t a coward by nature but he did draw a line when it comes to charges with a diabolical twang to them. Of what use would future expeditions be if the current one leaves you short of a limb or life? When the commander’s office entrée opened again Sageroloi entered, his left foot first, right hand behind his neck, and a bow to the waist level. On completing his official salute and straightening, he realized that the commander was not even facing him, in fact his chair was turned the other way around and he could see just the top of his head.
Sageroloi being a first level watchercrop - which meant that even nematodes and other lowly creatures would command a better welcome from the likes of the commander than him - knew that he wouldn’t be credited with the usual welcome gesture accorded to 4th levels and above. Being a first leveler was like a brief trip in hell, but any journey starts off with the first step, he had his own personal vendettas to settle against many of his higher ups. He has vowed to get even with them on reaching a better position. He was still a living being for Gumba’s sake, not some squirmer out of the gutters. Yes, he had gotten into the watchercrops for want of money. He was from a very poor family. His mum and dad must have been neutered, heck, any person below the poverty line should be. Why should you copulate and give birth to kids whom you have no hopes of rising? What gives them the right to bring such kids to Teglico, screaming their heads off in vain, perhaps aided by their own natal serendipity of their life to come. He made a mental note to himself to add the commander’s name to the ever growing list and stood waiting for the commander to let him know of his charge when he saw fit.
After perhaps about 300 seconds, by which time he had let his mind wander over to all the possible ways in which he could inflict harm over his oppressors, he heard the chair creak.
The commander rose, walked over to him and to his surprise offered his hand to be escorted to his sofa.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting Sageroloi, I was speaking with the Chief Citizen and I had to concentrate hard on the task, him being on vacation, the lines were quite bad”.
‘He is not such a gas bag after all’ thought Sageroloi, but he hadn’t heard any conversation, perhaps the Frontel© that he had heard about, linking the frontal lobes of the communicators and sort of a scary version of the everyday telephone that lets the people read each other’s thought, an enhanced EEG that translates the waves to information, was true!
He swallowed hard and said, “No problem Chief Commander Sir”.
“Well, it is a problem for me Sageroloi. The charge that I have for you is quite urgent. Of course I could have let my second in command brief you, but I wanted to see you myself so that I can impress upon you the urgency and the secrecy that should go along with this mission!”
‘Gas bag’ thought Sageroloi, but presented the commander with a sycophantic grin.
“You are to accompany a 5th level watcher crop, who you would have seen on your way to my office, to earth. You are to take the Ray Illume©, which again I must add nobody outside our establishment knows.”
Sageroloi’s jaw dropped at the mention of the Ray Illume©, he scrambled to keep up with what the commander was going on about.
“This being a moderately dangerous mission, you will be fitted with quite a few weapons, the existence of which not even the fourth level watcher crops know. On returning, which I figure you will only if you succeed in the mission, you will be directly promoted to 5th level without any appraisals and regimens.”
‘Moderately dangerous for you is suicidal for me but a promotion to 5th level is something that I cannot even imagine in this life time, you are quite handy with the carrot and the stick trick Mr. Commander’ Sageroloi ruminated, he realized that the commander was waiting for his answer, he had to scuffle a bit mentally to realize the question.
“So, are you ready for this challenge my friend? It’s like one of those games you are interested in isn’t it? Only its not your penny ante anymore, its even higher stakes, only two cards dealt, all or none, glory or a gory end, life or death. What say?”
Sageroloi didn’t want to ask as to how the commander knew about his gaming preferences, if he was selected for this particular mission out of a possible gazillion 1st levelers he must have gone through a fine sieve indeed. There wasn’t any hesitation in his decision, he knew a winner when he saw one, the stakes were high yes, but it would be worth the risk. Worse come worst, he will die, but then if he dies he needn’t put up with a life in penury isn’t it? Whatever choice he makes would lead to an end of life as he knew it; he simply nodded his head lest his voice betray the trebled beat of his heart.
“Very well then Master Watchercrop, run over to the armory where your charge will be explained to you in detail by Krakolin, there you will meet Master Baro too who will be your OIC in this mission. All the very best my friend, may the Gumba see to it that your path is illuminated till the end.”
With this greeting ringing in his ear, it had never felt as noble as it came out of the commander’s mouth, Sageroloi walked out. The commander did look a bit peaked, heck, a lot peaked, he wasn’t sure if he’d see the commander alive again, the man looked ready to cross over the river to the other shore. Another thought, this one more ominous sprang forth ‘You may not see him again if you die too old buddy, ever thought of that? Ever thought that it may be you who will be going on the river trip?’ He pushed that thought away and ambled towards the armory.
Chapter 9
Warty let out a low whistle, he needed that release! He had asked Frampy a simple question and whatever information he was hit with was too much for him to digest. He knew that there was something wrong with the establishment, but heck, don’t we all? Any person with even half a functional brain can find faults with the establishment. The opinionated of the lot would always oppose any of the brass’s decision as overtly partisan, blatantly nepotic or clearly non-favorable. Some such may be called disillusional, some may do all this just so their ego will be pacified and for people to applaud their sentiments. There is also a third kind, people belonging to this group are those that are shunned by such an establishment, those who find their entire livelihood obliterated just because they are a cause of acute embarrassment to those who run it. Needless to say, Warthog was one such. You can never get enough of the rack that the NC accords to Hässlich such as him. Nobody deems it fit to consider even for a moment that they could infact have been their brother/sister given the fact that they all are mass produced and the probability of two or more of them sharing the same batch of sperm or ova is indeed substantial.
Frampy, or Doktor Togadierre as he wished to be called - a whim that Warty had no ideas of obliging - was one of those rare breeds of Hässlichs who are identified as Noetic when kept under observation after an abnormal batch run by the machines. This observation is mandatory for two cases. One, they turn out to be Schnooks, showing signs of progressing physically alone, albeit at an exponential rate with a malfunctioning limbic system, driving only the animal instinct of survival at all costs, he or she has to be terminated. These beings are a threat to the society and a danger to themselves as well. Two, are the likes of Frampy who are intellectual but of stunted growth. Their cognition surpasses that of the ordinary human, if you can call them ordinary, but they are also similar to the ex-human that was before the NC. Some how there seems to be a trade off between the physical and mental growths, a design fault that the NC is not able to rectify. These beings are also a threat to the institution because they are born with a free thought process and can look in to the mendacity of the NC. All of the Noetics are therefore brought up under controlled environ and each is taught a particular strain of technology. The noetic is then given free reign to a related laboratory after which the surprises never stop, they keep inventing things of greater use. Trouble breeds when these Noetics escape from their confinement and start learning more about their existence. The NC handles such breakouts ruthlessly, killing the Noetic as well as the watchercrop in charge besides all the other humans that they suspect were contacted by the Noetic. There are also a third type of Hässlichs, like our Warty, who resemble a human both physically and also mentally. Such beings, after initial observation, are let lose in the city bowels. They helped in maintaining the city cleanliness and were used for most of the blue collar jobs.
It has been almost five years since Frampy escaped and he had no ideas of getting caught in the near future either. On his escape he spent a few months underground living off the city dumps, survival being the only aim, revenge could wait. After those initial months, he befriended a certain Senor Gruakach. At the mention of this name Warty gave a start, he knew Gruakach very well indeed, he was Clementine’s mentor and through her he was fairly acquainted with him. Frampy went on, through Gruakach’s aid Frampy succeeded in setting up this place which was in one of those radiation hazard areas of the city, a place that the NCs avoided like plague. They both formed a deadly combination; Gruakach had all the money and Frampy all the brains. On learning about the existence of Teglico (“Into whose history and existence I will not go into now! It is another tale for another day Warty!”) They decided to build a contraption that would take people to Teglico, they knew of a certain higher up there who was willing to ... umm … help them with their mission of overthrowing the NC and establishing a new world order like it used to be. They had come across some knowledge source that sort of gave a whiff of how the world used to be. This so called higher up had promised them some more information and manpower support if they could travel to Teglico. The contraption was ready but they were short of a traveler or two. Frampy could not travel because a person was needed on the controls here at the substation, he had built it all alone and nobody could help in that. Gruakach couldn’t because he was an ailing man and would not survive the multiple G’s that his body would be subjected to.
“So that is why my friend, we’ve had our eye on you for sometime. Gruakach was able to monitor your actions quite closely given that you just couldn’t bear to stay away from Clementine for more than a week. You are quite intelligent and thrive well under duress. Handling this contraption is quite simple if you are the traveler, only the ground controls are complicated. As an added benefit, Gruakach is ready to loan you Clementine for the entire journey.”
He failed to mention the fact that each was to serve as a backup for the other, to take over the reins if the other dies.
“Of course, you can deny this offer just so that you can irk us, you can walk off freely and toil in whatever crap you call life, your choice, but that would be a short lived one. The moment you leave my abode, you will be dead, either in the hands of the Watchercrops or worse your fellow mates. They think you are missing because you tattled to the NC about their activities and that right now you are hiding from them. What’s your choice then Warty?”
“You seem to have all the loopholes covered Mr. Frampy, what choice do I have? I guess it’s a yes.”
- posted by Swetha @ 1/17/2005 11:04:00 AM 0 comments
Bartering between the worlds?
Chapter 10
There are people who argue about coincidence. Some for and some against. This so called phenomenon of happenstance could in fact be the doings of a governing mechanism, operating on some sort of a sophisticated feedback system, a truly successful negative feedback process control indeed with a cent percent efficiency. Many things that happen in our lives; seemingly disjointed events can be tied up one day, as stray streamlets join a meandering river and go on to meet the ocean. Would you call it a coincidence that Warty happened to just wander into Frampy’s abode? Of all the places where he could have sought refuge, he had to walk into one where people were awaiting him to fall into their scheme of things? Would it be a coincidence that Baro and Sageroloi have set out to meet the very person who stands at the crux of the recent shake-up and not just an information source? Doesn’t all this have a pawnish feeling to it? That someone at the controls is adept at playing it in such a way that you seem to be in control of your life?
Warty was getting a run down of the procedure of lift off and all the ephemeral set-ups that have to be done, semi-dazed by the fact that Clementine was next to him.
Warty and Clementine were to take the Infireflecto©. This was an ingenious invention of Frampy. Warty was stumped at the prospect of such an apparatus. A hybrid variety of a concave and convex mirror combination was used. This was placed under controlled conditions with the facility where the transport is being done free of any substance that can absorb the EM waves. There were two mirrors, one a 2D rendering of the traveler, the other in the form of a suit molded to the traveler’s physique (this in order to restrict external reflection) with the radius of curvature so large that it was almost entirely flat. The source of external illumination was placed along the principal focus of the mirror, and needless to say, at the focal point of the mirror. On an experimental run, the controlled reflection reached such an increased magnitude of focused energy, that the photons were compressed (thereby negating the theory that says photons cannot be compressed, but can only annihilate and recreate themselves!) With the appropriate amount of energy on this ball of matter Frampy postulated that he could curl up the strings of the basic particles, by the belief that all particles in fact can be traced to the squiggles of a string with length of 10 raised to the power of -33. This was a theory left unfinished by the ex-humans. This curling up would lead to a space-time warp facilitating a time or space travel. The only problem for Frampy was the energy source. He needed as much as quadrillion times the energy of the Large Hadron Collider in
His informant provided Frampy with a solution to this problem, thereby cementing his claim that he was indeed the holder of a higher office in the establishment. He had also sealed his fate by this disclosure. If this thing ever got out, which it eventually would, two things could happen to him. If it failed, he would be subjected to the worst possible treatment that anybody could ever fathom at the hands of both the NC and the Teglicans. If it succeeded, he could become a life savior and a noted revolutionary who almost single handedly blew to smithereens a dictatorial government of unquantifiable reprehensibility. A devilry whose brimstony odor is just beginning to seep out of their seemingly air-tight society.
The so called energy source was infact a very novel idea that could only be dreamt of. It made use of the tectonic energy dissipated due to the heightened crust movements on earth. These movements were because of the immense amount of alteration in the earth’s displacement along its orbit. The sun was reaching its end of a main sequence star status and edging towards its red giant stage. It was expanding in size, thereby increasing the gravitational pull exerted on its planets. The temperature changes inflicted were also immense and the NC countered this by moving most of its offices to subterranean levels, this move was also hampered by the crust movement and the topmost priority of the NC right now was to relocate. The gravitational pull was not uniform anymore and it caused the earth to wobble and warble. It altered its rotation as well as revolution speeds. The tectonic plates sloshed about like lumps in a broth. The energy let out was immense and the informer had given Frampy just a clue to the source. He hadn’t spoon fed the information but let Frampy work out the details of the contraption.
Frampy had known that the houses on earth were built on a modernized suspension system that buffered them from the earthquakes that raked the earth everyday. He had expected an ordinary oil and spring suspension system. But the NC, considering the amount of strain these suspension systems underwent and the amount of energy that had to be dissipated for these suspension systems to work sans rocking, had harnessed this to-be-dissipated energy to power most of their machinery in their laboratories and used the conventional electricity for the civilian population. This tectonic energy usage was another one of those classified leaves out of the NC’s book that was kept away from the general know how. All Frampy had to do was lay an illegal tap on the main grid of the underground network of energy transmitters to power his enginery.
All this was too much for Warty to take, he concentrated only on how to operate the machine and to save both his and Clementine’s hides. He had to don the specially crafted suit and was to board his capsule; Clementine was to travel in another one. Initial set up to reach Teglico was already done. He had to practice for his return journey, which too was programmed; Warty just had to execute a sequence of steps that would invoke the return to earth sub routine. In Warty-ese, he just had to punch a series of colored buttons. He remembered them as
“Red Blue Green Yellow,
Come back and whack the shit out of this fellow!”
Chapter 11
In the seemingly far off Teglico, Baro was struggling to conceal his surprise which Sageroloi was so blatantly showing on his face. The tools arrayed in front of him and the concepts that went behind building this, coupled with the task at tentacle gave him a sense of unreality. He wanted to believe he had somehow wandered into the mind of one of those yarn-spinners when they are dreaming one of those dreams that eventually lead to their yarns. He was not much of a book reader and the depth of his imagination was pretty shallow. He tended to look down on people who could read tomes as their pass time and for some as livelihood. He respected those who wrote them even less. He didn’t care much for the contents of the book that were either extrapolation or interpolation of whatever was available on tentacle. No good comes out of these chimerical thoughts that only transported one to a make-believe place temporarily, giving them a sense of false gratification and satisfaction with their lives. The more fantastical the theory the harder the crash land of the person on return to reality. They lose touch with fact and view everything with a jaundiced eye, colored by fiction, always anticipating a mythical creature to jump out of a bush or expecting to unearth some crazy conspiracy that would somehow explain why they turned out to be such losers. But today, the day belonged to the geeks alright; mayhap these freaks who called themselves scientists drew inspiration for their gadgets from one of those no-gooders they call sci-fi.
The sequence was simple. First up was transportation, then came survival and finally once they’ve succeeded in accomplishing the first two, they would need the apparatus for whatever task they’ve been sent to accomplish. Then it was steps two and one, reversed, for their return journey.
The Ray Illume© which Baro and Sageroloi were supposed to take, was a sophisticated concept that had taken the Bernoulli’s principle to a higher level. It had to be taken to a higher level by the Teglicans, given the fact that Bernoulli was a human. It had to be built upon; no Teglican could just pick something up with even a hint of human contribution in its history and use it up, could he?
In lay-teglican’s terms, the technology was an improved method of “riding the rod”. For the more cognitive, Bernoulli had postulated that when an object is moving at a very high speed, due to the high velocity with which it is moving, the pressure about the object would fall, sucking up any thing in its kinetic envelope at its wake because the pressure on the other sides of the said thing would be greater than the side facing the moving object. But as space travel elicited transport through vacuum, this differing air pressure posed a problem. This was solved by using microbots that were capable of building a conduit for the light as well as the traveler to pass through all the way to the destination. This was done before the actual procedure of transport started which consisted of concentrating the EM waves of the sun or any nearby star into a single beam of very high intensity through the conduit. The intensity would be so much so that the waves would start having a kind of presence, giving the illusion of a train moving with the velocity of light. This beam was trained on the destination of travel via conduit and on reaching the maximum buildup of energy; the traveler was literally shot into the periphery of the beam. The aperture from which the traveler is shot should be opened only for a fraction of a second so that the pressure build up is not affected. The projectile velocity should also be carefully adjusted so that the person did not directly enter the path of the beam. On being introduced, the traveler is carried forth to the destination with the speed of light; he or she hurtles through space in a pod. On reaching the atmosphere of the planet under consideration, the on-board motors of the pod kick-in executing a series of propeller bursts that detach the traveler from the beam. The traveler would then breach the atmosphere and land on terra-firma (not always so, in some cases, they’ve lost test subjects to boiling pools of miasma that fizzle them out like candy). But as is to be expected, their pod would be beyond use on landing owing to atmospheric friction. The geeks had remedied this by inventing inflatable pods, a spare or two of which were always on board.
This Ray Illume© technology was handicapped in two respects. One, as the travel is established at the speed of light and as microbots were used to build a tunnel, it limited the scope of cross-galaxy travels in the lifetime of a single traveler. Two, the return beam had to be generated by the ground support in Teglico regardless of where the traveler is, this necessitated the requirement of a boosted up communication device with a very broad range of coverage to transmit the exact co-ordinates for beam orientation. There was nothing that could be done about problem number one; they were planning to float this scheme as an alternate method of public transport to nearby destinations. Problem number two was tackled by revamping the boosters used by humans to strengthen their RF signals.
The geeks justified this lengthy not quite required monologue to Baro and Sageroloi by telling them that this was still under testing and they would be the first teglicans to use the Ray Illume©. Next up was survival.
Chapter 12
In his career as a 5th level watchercrop; Baro has had a passing acquaintance with the kind of rudimentary self-defense as well as assault weapons of the earthlings. Most of them seemed to be based on the now obsolete ballistic propulsion, the basic primer, propellant and projectile idea and a few had gone ahead and harnessed the not so distantly obsoleted guiding systems using IR, imaging, RADAR or Satellites. The teglicans considered themselves quite well bred in their weapons arsenal front. Theirs was largely a peace loving community with little squirmishes and squabbles at times, which were nipped within a matter of seconds of their conception, going on to prove the might of their law and order. They were rather into the “forestalling of the expected” adage rather than finding a “nostrum for the ail” one. Baro was to carry his LAZECLIPR©, which was a regular government issue. It was a basic power diode bar with the ability to sear away a body part neatly as well as cauterize the wound as the watchercrops wouldn’t want the criminal to die from blood loss. For a teglican cretin, following the confrontation a trip to the local body shop to get the best fit followed by a visit to the nearby sew doctor would be enough to reverse the negation. If the injury had been something uncalled for, the establishment would take up the damages suffered and in certain severe cases of personal rivalry spilling onto the judicial practice; the shooter was made to lose a part of his body to replace the one lost by the sufferer. In case of humans, the teglicans so blinded by their prejudice towards the species, almost invariably put them to death and hence the question of a body part replacement never occurred.
Sageroloi, a first leveler was also given an unmarked LAZECLIPR© and was asked to turn in his Electrostaf©. Apart from this, between them, they were to carry a MemModfr© each in order to scramble the memories of those unfortunate enough to stray into their paths, a bushel full of regular tranquilizers that were spring loaded along the inside of their good tentacle, for Baro his right foremost and Sageroloi his left hindmost. These were accompanied by Dazzlrs© that could be tuned to emit light of certain wavelength that would momentarily blind the opponent, a phenomenon that would last for almost 10080 seconds, one human week. They were also carrying one Hootr© apiece that were tuned to emit high pitch sound waves that were known to scramble to brains of the humans thereby making them lose their cognition awhile.
Apart from his other responsibilities, Baro also had the added responsibility of reigning in the enthusiasm of Sageroloi lest he start using his Hootr© or Dazzlrs© just for the heck of it. The travelers were also told that the weapons that they were being given operated on a limitless power source, namely light. Even the bleakest of light would be enough to recharge the circuits but under night conditions the weapons would run from reserve, but this was true only for the dead night conditions, even a light from a torch would be enough for a recharge. The expected lifetime of a battery without recharge was 5040 seconds.
In all, there was nothing much to worry about except the task at tentacle itself. All these were but means to reach the destination and survival on reaching. The final task of searching for the trinket and acquiring it at all costs from the enemy would require a lot more than their weapon power. It required a lot of wit and ability to take momentary decisions, a task which Baro thought Sageroloi was totally incapable of.
Chapter 13
Just before Sageroloi came into the armory, Baro was told about the person with whom a reconnaissance has been arranged by the commander. This Hässlich was known to the commander by the name Toddy. Baro and Sageroloi were to land within a few hundred yards of the designated meeting place and walk the rest of the way. As the selected place was secluded enough they needn’t bother with camouflaging their entry. They were to undergo a simple surgery that would make them look like humans for a limited period of time. They might as well have donned the concealment robes that they usually use but the commander didn’t want any wardrobe malfunctions on such an important mission where stealth and surreptitiousness had to go hand in hand.
Sageroloi balked at the prospect of having to go under the knife but he was cajoled and threatened – both in liberal measures – to get on the table. To their collective amazement, after the operation Baro and Sageroloi felt they looked even better than the humans themselves. Sageroloi went on to add, “I believe the beauty index of the humans just went up a notch dude!” Baro who didn’t care much for being called a dude resented this move totally but now that he had gotten himself into the mercy of the commander and his trusted few, he had no other choice but to oblige.
They didn’t get much time to bid their adieus to their family and friends. Each was given a paper to put down their thoughts and seal it. It was promised that their dear ones would get these papers shortly. Krakolin added, “I believe in the better nature of the race my friends. I am exhibiting a very high sense of confidence by letting you write such a letter and seal it. I expect that after the rendezvous with the commander – who I believe has stressed to the nth power the nature of this business – you gentleteglicans, pretty much aware of the secrecy that has to go along with this mission, have not hinted anything that has any passing resemblance with any information about the mission.”
That done, they were attired in their special suit that was made of a special non-inflammable material that wouldn’t give the travelers even a hint of discomfort when they are hurtling through space and even less so when they clear the Teglican atmosphere and when they enter the earth’s atmosphere. Their weapons went into pouches on the inside of their suit and after a bit of a meditation invoking the Gumba to spare a glance for these pilgrims who could do very well with his light of love and blessings, proceeded to board their pods.
Once that done, the geeks - in Sageroloi-ese - started off the sequence to build up the beam. It took about 125 seconds for the generators to come up to maximum power and once the scientists were certain that the beam had reached maximum energy, unleashed the microbots which were preprogrammed miniature space pods that started the task of building the conduit for the beam according to pre-set co-ordinates. This took about 1020 seconds following which, on the final nod from Krakolin the pods with Baro and Sageroloi were introduced along the periphery of the beam. With this the geeks and Krakolin pass out of this tale.
The geeks never knew whether their contraption worked, whether their brain-child delivered or suffered a mis-carriage. Krakolin never got to deliver the letters that were left behind by Baro and Sageroloi. The latter two never knew of the fate that their love ones suffered. A sword was hanging above the head of every Teglican on the planet. They had no idea about the impending doom or that their existence itself was being questioned. They didn’t realize that suppressors wouldn’t always allow to be suppressed and neither would oppressors continue with their vice-like tactics for long. They hadn’t realized that it was all an elaborate joke. A joke so cruel and at the same time whimsical that no body could grasp it.
Nobody noticed commander Grapo who had come to witness the blast off from an alcove near the top of the armory. He was a wise and clever man who was never found lacking in courage. Ever since the chief citizen contacted him about the trinket, he had done a bit of digging about to get to the root of the matter. His initial scorn at the idea slowly gave way to doubt bordering on the believing and culminated in horrific realization. Time was running out on him and this trinket, as per its name, was nothing but a mirage that the Teglicans were led to believe was the axle of their existence. He knew that the trinket did contain certain explanations to a few pragmatic “why’s? And how’s?” but if the current tidings were to be believed, those answers would cease to matter as would his entire race. With such ominous thoughts thundering about his brow Grapo set off towards his hive to put to test a theory of his, which if proved right would lead to both his survival as well as buy him time to ward off the current disaster. If he were not able to do the latter, he would at least be alive to avenge for the lives his fellow teglicans.
Chapter 14
Despite his repeated requests to maintain their relative position within their pod in order to ensure a travel with minimum possible disturbances, Frampy was sure that Warty at least would wiggle about in his pod causing distortions in the string pattern. He could not have used harnesses because there was no knowing what the added material in their form would have done to the string manipulation and hence the portal co-ordinates. The Infireflecto© would home in on a special beaming signal that was to be set up by his informer in Teglico. The mole had promised as much.
Nothing acts as a better stimulant for a being to not do something more than curbing him or her from doing that. Saying “while you can, you may not!” during an arbitration more often than not incites the individual to do the particular thing. It is not enough to say fire burns; the person wouldn’t realize what burning means unless he or she actually attempts to touch that lovely but tempestuous dancer in yellow and orange and realizes that burning means that incessant irritation like a raw nerve which tingles painfully with the lightest breeze or the softest swathe, telegraphing the brain at 124 MPH, leaving behind a tender spot with the ghost of the pain and irritation days after the wound has actually healed. Interception and the succeeding temptation have long set the course for a world ruled by cause and effect. If there is a certain way in which a thing can go wrong, it certainly will.
Thus at the appointed time, when all was ready and Frampy was initiating the beam sequence, he could see Warty bopping his head to some tune in his head, as we are wont to do at times of extreme excitedness, be it due to fear or happiness. Frampy was almost of a mind to proceed as is, he has had enough of Warty’s arrogance and some extra G’s would do well to curb the hog’s contumacy a bit. There was a brief tussle between what Frampy wanted to do and what he ought to do. The latter but definitely better argument won and Frampy, making no efforts to disguise his impatience and vexation said, “Mr. Warthog sir, you have got to stop convulsing unless you want to reach Teglico as Wart‘ham’ and not Warthog.” Warty immediately seized his head bonking out of surprise. He would rather have wanted to slow down the tempo and stop it eventually giving an idea that it wasn’t Frampy’s warning that made him stop but he did it out of his own volition. He kicked himself mentally for this act which the dratted doctor would read as subordination.
On seeing that his subjects were well set, Frampy initiated the set-off sequence and waited with a guarded sense of pride to watch his best invention to date being made use of. Warty felt a queer weightlessness with a feeling that somehow his stomach had detached itself from his body and was floating somewhere about his neck. He was blindfolded in order to prevent any lasting damage to his vision. This combined with the small pod and the constricting body armor made him feel claustrophobic. He didn’t even want to think about Clementine’s situation. He had received a dose of this when he tried to flee Frampy’s house but Clementine did not even have a clue! All of a sudden Warty felt his consciousness split; he thought he had become a million Warties each constituting an individual Warty with his own ability to think but at the same time aware of the other presences. He was certain that were he to remove his blindfold, he would be able to behold himself and his pod in numerous dimensions equaling the number of splits that his being had taken. He wasn’t even sure if there would be a single tangible “he”! He began to doubt that he will be able to behold numerous small Warties perambulating the space inside the pod. His only concern was towards any cracks or fissures in the pod itself. What if a small warty or two escapes? What part of his would he lose on reassembling? He was certain that there would be a reassembly, of course!
After what felt like a tumultuous wave of sea sickness and immense pressure on his respiratory system, Warty felt the uneasiness slip bit by bit. He felt his stomach getting back to its abdominal cavity after its brief sojourn without. He became aware of a certain rushing coupled by a forward as well as a downward motion that was losing momentum step by step. After what seemed fifteen minutes he felt a small bump and felt the pressure let up. He was sure that he had reached terra firma and removed his blindfold. He released the safety catch of his pod and stumbled out onto a desert. He did a cursory check of his self and found that he didn’t miss any of his physical equipment. He wasn’t sure about his interiors, for all he knew, the Warties that came forth from a kidney or pancreas could have revolted and stayed out! Warty let this cheerful thought slip by and ambled over to Clementine’s pod which was lying on its side. Just as he reached the door the hatch opened and she hopped out. After seeing that she was safe and sound, Warty began making an assessment of the situation. He was sure the mission has failed. The landscape looked like the fabled
“Red Blue Green Yellow,
Come back and whack the shit out of this fellow!”
When he thought he heard a distant metallic rattle. It couldn’t be a car; anything that sounded that big was either a very sick giant human being with a persistent cough or a giant child’s giant rattle! But the noise was growing steadily closer. Given the fact that nobody knew how the residents of Teglico looked, the possibility that they were infact in the said planet with their lives at the feet of a giant child, the size of a barn perhaps, running towards them was beginning to look probable.
Chapter 15
Grapo breasted a dune and came down hard on his seat, cursing the dratted government that was intent only on keeping its own premises and roundabouts maintained but neglect with absolute indifference the existence of these here hinterlands. He wanted to get as far away from the hives as possible to test his theory. It would be quite painful alright. It was such an awful idea, but a horribly possible one. Grapo wouldn’t be able to rest easy till he verified it, sort of like that bloody place on the inside of one’s mouth, bloody yet suffering frequent visits from your gnashers that keep returning to get a dose of that exquisite pain. He had brought along some painkillers just in case.
He clambered up another dune in his jalopy and almost didn’t notice the two near human like creatures, one lying on its side and another gazing rather dazedly at the approaching excuse of a car. He wouldn’t have if not for the sprain in his neck after marathon sessions of meetings that he had! His head was now cocked to his left, he just couldn’t turn his head without straining that neck of his; this could also explain the bungling way he was handling his motor. If not for his finely honed reflexes he would have flattened Warty and Clementine without them having ever realized that they’ve accomplished their mission.
“Hello there handsome, how did you put together that thingy? Spit and twine? Or a stitch and a prayer??” piped one.
Grapo was not accustomed to being spoke to by humans, let alone in such mocking terms. Their other-teglicanly clothes and apparent lack of fear at his appearance were all that stopped him from neutralizing them on the spot. It was the one who could pass of as a male in the human society who addressed him. The other one who probably was a “female” lay prone on her side.
“Greetings from planet earth senor! Are you the one whom Frampy spoke of?” he caterwauled again.
To Grapo all this sounded gobbledygook, Frampy sounded like some exotic variety of fries that tastes like heaven while eating and makes you feel like hell later! But, he knew that he had stumbled upon something that would go a long way in clearing out his suspicions without indulging in any of the painful experiments that he had steeled himself to go through.
His face, ever the block of granite, gave away none of these thoughts. He replied impassively, “I could be, depending on who is talking?”
“The name is Warthog sir, Warty to the initiated. This here girl is my Clementine. Dr. Togadierre Fralampine - Frampy in short if you didn’t know – sent us here with instructions that we were to meet a Teglican here who had some information for us. Given the fact that this is inarguably a God-forsaken place that I’ve ever set sight on and considering your elaborate garb and your not so elaborate junk there which you probably call your car, I think you are it! What say?”
Grapo scrambled a bit to get all this straight. While he definitely was not the “IT” that this Warty was talking about, he knew he had to make best use of this opportunity. Heck given the fact that he was the Commander in charge of defence and security of Teglico he did know almost everything that there was to know about the workings of the government, its alliances, some not-yet-concrete hypotheses about the part that Gumba played in the same, the chief citizen’s role in the great scheme of things and last of all his latest seemingly half-baked suspicions about the trinket and the “secret” that it apparently contained. So, if he had to act as an informer or something he can play that smoothly.
He grabbed on to the opportunity that had presented itself immediately and stumbled forward – there was no other way to move about in the desert with his many tentacles – extended one of his tentacle and exclaimed, “I believe you’ve found your ‘IT’ Mr. Warty, so what’s the plan?”
Chapter 16
Well, there was no plan; they were to return to earth in their pods and let Frampy decide what was to be done. Warty was almost sure that his contribution to the journey was at an end. Frampy had mentioned only the meeting and return, nothing further. Although theoretically Clementine was traveling with him he had hardly spoken two words to her. There were no radio communications and both of them were pretty keyed up to even “think” romantic thoughts. He was looking forward to returning and bullying Gruakach into loaning her for a week more!
Now that it was decided that they ought to return to earth immediately, transportation posed a problem. Both Warty and Grapo were slightly on the bulkier side, well, not slightly, heck - call a spade a spade - both of them were regular butterballs with more tires than an eighteen wheeler truck – spares and all! And as circumstances usually guide, Warty was rather well buttered than Grapo. As they had only two pods, the event reached the much expected climax, Clementine had to travel with Grapo while Warty had to travel back grumbling and over working his extra-imaginative mind and grumbling again! Clementine could have traveled with Warty but someone had to educate Grapo about the landing sequence. Yup, the great “Red, Blue, Green Yellow!” thingy.
Grapo ran back- well, as much as he could anyway! - to his jalopy, got out the kit that he had carried to experiment and came back.
“Ready when you are chum!” he managed to say between loud gasps for air!
“Yeah, am a raring to go myself, leaving my Clementine at the mercy of your probably over eager antennae or whatever you call ‘em” Warty muttered and led the way.
With a last endearing glance they boarded their pods and set forth on their return journey.
Chapter 17
In the mean time, Baro and Sageroloi, looking like any other John Doe, albeit a bit dazed, ambled out of their capsule and tottered about. On stabilizing, they walked the said couple of hundred yards along the direction that they thought should be east. The climate was insufferably hot and they were baking inside their space suits. On walking some more, they sighted a distortion in the mirage that kept hovering just beyond their shank’s reach. As they walked nearer the distortion solidified and began to take up a more humanoid form.
‘That must be Toddy’ they thought to themselves and quickened their pace.
Well, it was indeed Toddy and to the not so astute reader it was our very own Togadierre Fralampine a.k.a Frampy.
“Welcome to earth my friends” he chimed, “How do you do, how do you do and how do you do again?”
This was greeted by a rather hesitant, “Toddy?”
“Yes indeedy! I welcome you not only to planet earth monsieurs’; I welcome you to the truth, the salvation, the disembowelment of fallacy and rebirth of rights! In short I welcome you to project ‘Jardine Trinket!’ ”
Baro who was already taken aback by such an addressing almost teetered on hearing the trinket being mentioned so openly, that too in front of Sageroloi who was not supposed to know anything regarding that.
“Well errr thanks” he managed to stammer.
Frampy led them to a cluster of what appeared to be neglected shacks. He led them inside to what appeared to be a conference room sort of setting with the ceremonial ovalish table and chairs all about. Well, the similarity ended their. The Ovalish table itself looked customized with a lot of drains, a rim of about 4 inches ran about the edge, was slanted and had quite a few faucets about. There was a faint medicinal smell about the room and the travelers had a premonition that they were soon to take part in the conference and they wouldn’t be seated around the table either!
- posted by Swetha @ 1/17/2005 11:03:00 AM 2 comments
