“Beans,” Idola said. “Not peas.”
“My apology. My translation of your dialect is imperfect. Beans it is. The Pod is changing course, and will pass your solar system by.”
“'Ray!” Tillo said, clapping. What could the others do but join in?
“So we have indeed saved the world,” Levi said. “And the world doesn't even know it.”
“And we won't tell them,” Quiti snapped.
“Now that that business had been concluded, and we know that your troupe will survive, along with your planet,” Jones said, “I am free to present the offer made by the WormWeb authority. Your Magi Nation presentation was very well received; it seems that this was a new tilt on fantasy adventure, with an almost juvenile novelty.”
“Unsurprising,” Gena said. “The designers are juveniles.” Tillo and Idola smiled.
“They are interested in seeing more of it, and in instructing others to emulate it. The actors in your role playing exhibition, such as the one who played the part of the sorceress, are already being conscripted as supervisory personnel because of their experience with you; it's a distinct promotion for them. It's already becoming a new galactic craze. But the actors protest that only you can do it properly; they merely followed your lead.” He smiled. “And I rather think the sorceress likes you, Roque; she spoke of dancing with you again, perhaps more closely.”
“The hell!” Quiti snapped, remembering the dirty dancing, which couldn't get closer while clothes remained on. But then she had to join the laughter of the others.
“You spoke of an offer,” Roque said.
“Apart from your dawning fame as fantasy celebrities,” Jones said. “As you know, the chief galactic currencies are entertainment, which you provide, and information, which galactics can provide. They can give you the technology for instant communication via mini wormholes, making your intelligent phones become genius phones. Or anti-gravity via shielding, which is not the way Hairs or Chips do it, but may be more efficient. Or perhaps the secret of virtual perpetual motion, useful for your transport devices like outomobiles.” He glanced at Idola.
“Automobiles,” she said.
“Thank you. At any rate, it should be well worth your while to accede. I can arrange a fair contract.”
“We could become trillionaires,” Roque breathed.
“Top world celebrities,” Desiree said.
The others looked at Quiti. She frowned as if in doubt. “We'll think about it,” she promised.
They laughed again.
Author's Note
The original Hair Power novella was written right after my dental surgery, partly to verify that I had not lost my mind because of the general anesthesia. I had just turned 81, and we old codgers can have such side effects. This sequel was written the month before my 82nd birthday, and I do seem to be holding on to my mind, this news for those who may be concerned. I now have my new upper dentures and am contemplating whether to get similar lower ones, a process much easier because my lower jaw is virtually all dental implants already. I have an imaginary trio of busty young women who find my mention of getting implants to be hilarious; I assure you mine are not at all similar to theirs. Aside from my teeth, I remain in good health for someone my age.
One thing about writing is that sometimes the characters develop wills of their own. Thus Quiti decided to make new alien-powered people, resulting in Gena, with her doubled powers and ability to dream the future. There's obviously a lot more story coming up, which wasn't what I had planned on. Sigh.
So what was happening in my dull life during the month I wrote this novella? I'm a workaholic and I love writing, which is why I'll never retire. I do break up my writing sessions with computer games such as FreeCell or Mahjongg to fill the interstices, generally winning the first and losing the second; once I lost with only two of 144 tiles remaining, one set atop the other. Sigh. I also read novels and nonfiction books, and news and science magazines, as I have a keen interest in science despite earning my living with fantasy. And I watch DVD or Blu-Ray videos, preferring the ones with subtitles because I can't always distinguish the audio dialogue. Did I mention getting old? I try to keep up with correspondence and family matters. My wife and I had our 60th wedding anniversary just before this novella. During it the American political parties selected their nominees, Hillary and Donald; that promises to be an interesting contest.
About my wife: she contributed to this novella, inadvertently, because I used her illness for the character Levi: CIDP. Fortunately we can manage the treatments, which put her back on her feet. Otherwise I might have lost her a decade ago. So I have a fair familiarity with this rare ailment. She's not spry, and I do chores like meals and dishes, but her mind is all there, which I think is what counts most.
How mundane is my real life? Here's an example of what happened while I wrote the novella. We have a three quarter mile long drive, because we live on our small tree farm. Interesting things happen along it. A few years back I discovered a pretty flowering plant; when I touched it, I got stung. Oh, a stinging nettle! Then it got eaten off, to my frustration. So this year I put some small fencing around it and its offspring. They were flowering nicely when we drove by and discovered a big gopher tortoise inside the fence, having barged its way in; they are like little bulldozers. We value our tortoises, but we don't want them eating our flowers. So I helped it out and focused on driving the little stakes further into the ground. One nettle was lost, but three others survived. Then I returned to the car and we drove on. Bump! I had assumed the tortoise had fled into the pine trees. Instead it had hidden under the car, and we had run over it, killing it. Sigh. Had I but watched it I would have known, and saved its life. Then a week later there was another bump; another tortoise was hidden in the center behind tufts of tall grass, and the bottom of the car had dented its shell. It crawled away, and I hoped it would recover, but it didn't; a few days later it was dead, and I had to bury it also. I am a vegetarian because I don't like hurting animals, and here we had killed two. Damn!
Three days a week I run along our drive to pick up the morning newspapers, getting in my exercise. The other days I use an adult scooter, that is, the kind you push with your foot, with 26 inch wheels. But in this month my front tire went flat. I dismounted it and patched it, and after a couple of tries it held and I used it again. One day. Then the rear tire went flat. It took me a couple more tries, but finally that too, held and I was back in business. I'm a better writer than I am a tire patcher. Except that a rear nut holding the axle in place was missing; it must have come off while I was using the scooter. So I still couldn't use it yet.
Thus my life, in its petty pace. No wonder I like my fantasy worlds!
This novella was proofread by Scott M Ryan and Anne White. My website is www.hipiers.com/, where I have a monthly personal column, information on my novels, and maintain an ongoing survey of electronic publishers with candid feedback from authors who use them. Welcome to visit if you're curious.
About the Author
Piers Anthony is one of the world’s most prolific and popular authors. His fantasy Xanth novels have been read and loved by millions of readers around the world, and have been on the New York Times Best Seller list many times. Although Piers is mostly known for fantasy and science fiction, he has written several novels in other genres as well, including historical fiction, martial arts, and horror. Piers lives with his wife of 60 years in a secluded woods hidden deep in Central Florida.
Piers Anthony’s official website is HI PIERS at www.hipiers.com, where he publishes his monthly online newsletter. HI PIERS also has a section reviewing many of the online publishers and self-publishing companies for your reference if you are looking for a non-traditional solution to publish your book.
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