Amron tossed back her hair in a show of disappointment. “Fine, have it your way. But just remember that you’ll never find anyone as smart, talented, or beautiful as I am.”
Candor stifled the impulse to laugh, watching as she assumed a more formal pose. Swinging her legs underneath her she sat up. Then folding her hands over her crossed legs, she regarded him with the most lustrous gaze that he had ever encountered.
“Amron, I have absolutely no doubt that you’re correct. And please stop looking at me like that, you’re driving me crazy.”
“What?” she shrugged in a mock display of innocence. “You know that I’m what you really want. And besides,” she cooed while licking her pouting lips. “I was hoping that I could get you to change your mind.” She said while patting the empty space beside her.
“I do sincerely appreciate the offer, and I must admit that I’m dreadfully tempted. But no, I won’t change my mind. And could you please cover yourself. Seeing you like this is, well, it’s distracting.”
Amron smiled as she rose to her feet, giving Candor one last glorious look at her perfect figure, and one last opportunity to change his mind. When he didn’t respond, the avatar shrugged. “As you wish,” she said. A moment later she was covered in a luxurious silken gown with a plunging neckline. Her arms were bare, connected to two half-moons of flowing fabric that were suspended by a set of jade bracelets at her wrists. “Is this better?”
Hell no! Candor thought. I said put on some clothes, not a sex-me evening dress for crying out loud! Was I really this one-dimensional before I died?
Amron was waiting for him to say something, seeking his approval. Candor could have stated what was on his mind, but he just didn’t see the point. Amron obviously commanded some type of interactive intelligence. And she also knew what it took to push the right buttons on the Penticorian male. What Candor needed, however, was information, not a cat-and-mouse game of continuous sexual titillation. He nodded his agreement that indeed her clothes were sufficient, even though he knew it would continue to distract him.
“I need information, Amron, and I think you should be able to help me. But first I need to know if you report what you do, or if others can monitor us?”
The avatar shook her head. “There is no surveillance on my activities. I remain the intermediary between you, and the Tulacoss City Interlink.”
Candor nodded. He was pleased that while procreation was regulated, information was not. “Can you show me a representation of Penticore Prime?”
A moment later the floor shimmered, and a massive globe appeared next to Amron, dwarfing her. Candor was amazed at the intricate detail. Swirling clouds and high snowcapped mountain ranges followed immense valleys that flowed into lush green rainforests. Amron looked bored, and a nail file appeared in her hands. She immediately set to work, buffing and polishing nails that didn’t exist in the first place. Candor, on the other hand, was transfixed. As the planet turned, he realized very quickly that Penticore Prime was vastly different from Earth.
Well, it’s comprised mostly of water. Yet there aren’t many continents, he thought. In fact, Penticore Prime was one massive continent, with only a few major lakes to break the continuity of the landscape.
“Show me the cities please, and mark Tulacoss, if you would.”
Amron didn’t even look up, as if the task was menial. However, the planet did stop rotating. Fourteen red dots appeared, and one green. Candor surmised that the green dot was Tulacoss. It stood in the southeast corner of the continent at the edge of the ocean.
Okay then. I don’t know why, but I thought there would be some similarities between my dream, and the reality. But wait… “Amron, please show me the statistics for time, relative to Penticore Prime.”
A series of numbers and words written in alien script appeared in front of the globe. Candor had no idea how, but he could understand it.
Well that is strange. Roughly twenty-four hours in a day, and size and mass are approximate. Ocean salinity is way off, and temperature, pressure, and atmospheric content are different.
“Amron, back up and show me the solar system please.”
The words faded, and Penticore Prime shrank on the massive stage, revealing a series of planets in an elliptical orbit around a single sun.
“Penticore Prime is the third planet. So, the theory of the habitable zone is applicable.”
“Are you asking me a question?”
“No, Amron, I was just thinking out loud.”
“As you wish,” she said while returning to her manicure.
Candor wished that he’d paid more attention in astronomy class. But alas, as a human he was never that interested in the geology of other planets. Yet he still got an odd feeling when he looked at the representation. As if what he recalled was a cartoonish paradox of everything that he remembered. He remembered that Mars was the fourth planet, but it was a barren dead world. Yet here, the fourth planet was covered by a vast ocean.
Wait, maybe I’ve done it to myself. Maybe when I dreamed that I was a human I superimposed this life onto that dream? That would explain why I can read and understand the Penticorian language. And it would also explain why the human numbers line up. I must have mixed them together like some Freudian nightmare as I was dying.
Candor brightened at the prospect. Because if it were true, then he really was Penticorian, and that meant that somewhere deep down his memories were still there. “Okay Amron. I’ve seen enough. Jinx said something about the governing group on Penticore Prime. How about giving me a lesson in politics?”
Amron looked up and sighed, as if politics, in any form, was the most boring thing she could ever talk about. The solar system faded away, along with her nail file. She stood gracefully, her hands clasped lightly in front of her. As she began to speak, a series of faces and graphs appeared beside her.
“The hierarchy of Penticore Prime is divided into two sets of governing bodies. As you know, there are fifteen cities on the planet. Tulacoss is the capital city. However, the lower house of each city is governed by five leaders known as the Sentak Seiss. Your father, Sador, currently holds the leading position on the Tulacoss City Council. Above the Sentak Seiss, is the governing council for all Penticore Prime. They are known as the Senedos Seiss, and they are comprised of one member from each city.”
“At least they can never have a stalemate in a vote. So, the Sentak Seiss attends to city matters, while the Senedos Seiss looks after our entire civilization.”
Amron nodded, and for a moment, Candor caught a glimmer of mischief sparkling in her eyes.
Quit it old boy, he chastised himself. You need to learn, not get your rocks off.
“I noticed the same word, Seiss,” Candor said as he tried to stay on task. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember what it means. I can only assume that it’s a title of some kind.”
“That is correct. Seiss is a proper title meaning father, or elder. While Penticorian females, who may I point out are not as gifted sexually as I am, may be referred to as Shajin, or mother, as a proper title. In addition, female positions of power in certain social settings may also include matriarch, or lady.”
Candor felt the urge to get up and see just how gifted she was, when a voice startled him.
“Ah,” said Jinx. “I see that you have become reacquainted with Amron.”
He looked over to see the simulacrum approaching. He had a tray in his hands that held a crystal decanter containing a green liquid, two glasses, and two plates that were filled with a variety of items that Candor couldn’t even begin to classify.
“And he doesn’t even want to play with me,” said Amron, pouting.
Jinx set the tray down on the couch next to Candor’s chair, and one thin eyebrow lifted in a curious gesture. “Indeed,” he said. “Quite extraordinary, if I may be so bold.”
“Don’t start with me, Jinx. Although it is good to see you wearing clothes. I’m not big on Penticorian fashion, but I have to hand it to you, you
look good.”
Jinx smiled at the compliment, even though he felt horribly out of place. As for Candor, he was telling the truth. Jinx wore a burgundy colored top, with black lapels cut in the same style as Candor’s. He opted for a pair of pants that draped loosely over his legs, like a much longer version of a Scottish kilt. In addition, he wore a thick black belt that was easily the size of Candor’s chest, and fastened by a series of gold hooks at the front.
“You don’t say.” Amron retorted, not wanting to miss her opportunity. “And I don’t look as good without clothes?”
“Zip-it, Amron,” Candor snapped.
“What is a ‘zip,’ and what am I supposed to do with it? Jinx, do you know what he’s talking about?”
Jinx shrugged, and Candor laughed.
“It means I don’t want to discuss it right now.”
He gestured for Jinx to sit next to him and said. “I’ve been doing some research while you were gone, trying to see if I can remember anything.”
“Did you have any success?”
“No, some things feel familiar, but I can’t get a firm grasp on them. Just when I think I might be onto something, it goes up in smoke,” said Candor. “But at least I can get enough information to function until I can sort it out.”
“That is sound reasoning, may I suggest that you continue. I may be able to add to your understanding in the process.”
Candor sat back in the chair. It was three sizes too big for him, and Candor grumbled in a low mutter. “It’s a throne made for a king, not a citizen of Penticore Prime.” Then turning to Jinx he said. “No, I think I’m done for the moment. Amron, can you show me the last thing that I was working on. From the beginning, please.”
Amron looked disappointed, as if nothing had gone the way she intended. “Very well,” she replied. She disappeared, and the lights over the stadium faded to black. The stage pulsed with a rhythmic amber light, followed by the appearance of a manor house.
Candor was amazed at how lifelike it was. He was certain that he could walk up on the stage and touch it, instantly becoming a part of the story. Losteruss appeared, a tall and handsome Penticorian, and began singing in lament for his lost love. In turn, Paleoss, stranded and dying in an oxygen rich jungle, sang to be rescued. All the while, both droned on about how unfair it was that her parents wouldn’t allow them to be together.
My god, thought Candor as he gripped the armrests of his chair. This is complete garbage! The most unimaginative, lackluster, superficial tripe that I’ve ever had the displeasure of witnessing!
“Amron,” Candor shouted over the pitiful singing, “shut it off! Shut it off now please!”
The stage darkened, and Jinx asked him. “Is there a problem?”
“Come on Jinx, you can’t be serious! That was horrible and you know it.”
Jinx was perplexed by the statement. “I do not find enjoyment in this form of diversionary entertainment. Yet I am loath to pass judgment on others as a result. The citizens who acclaim your work seem quite fond of it, and you are extremely popular in five cities.”
“Jinx,” said Candor as he stood up. The pomposity of the chair made his skin crawl. “Level with me. Was I really as shallow, arrogant, vain, and self-absorbed as I appear to be?”
Jinx hesitated, afraid to say what he’d thought for a very long time. Candor knew the answer from the look on Jinx’s face.
“I get the picture. Amron, what did you think of that?”
She didn’t reappear on the stage, yet her voice was all around them. “It’s not very good, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” Candor said as he waved his arms in consternation, and his mind raced with self-recriminations. After a moment he sat down beside Jinx, away from the center chair. “Bring it here.” He said, motioning for Jinx to pass the tray over to him.
Candor poured himself a glass of the green liquid. He hoped that it contained alcohol, or some other form of narcotic. If only to erase the shame of having his name connected to a piece of Penticorian popular culture that was, in his opinion, worthy of a good old fashioned public hanging.
The drink was ice cold and went down smoothly. With a delightful mix of mint and berries that was completely new to him. A moment later he felt a tingling sensation in his limbs, and even as an alien he recognized the numbing effect of alcohol.
“Is this fermented?”
“Yes, it is. It is called jenjiss, and it is made from the bark juice of the sashore tree.”
“But it tastes like fruit.”
“Yes indeed. I mix a perfected blend of seven different variations.”
Candor took another long pull from the glass, and then poured himself another. “Well,” he said after clearing his throat. “I like it a lot.”
“You always did.”
“Can you drink?”
Jinx didn’t know what Candor was getting at, but he nodded just the same.
“Good,” said Candor. Immediately he picked up another glass. And after filling both glasses to the rim he handed one to Jinx.
“Drink up, Jinxy old boy. We’ve got work to do.”
“What work? What are you going to do, Candor?”
“I’m not going to do anything alone. You and I are going to work together and fix my image problem, and raise the quality of my work a few levels in the process. There are going to be some changes around here, and I need your help. I’m not the Penticorian that made that anymore,” he said emphatically while pointing to the stage. “And I’m not going to pretend to be something that I’m not. Amron,” Candor said.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I want you to destroy that story, play, or whatever it is that we call it. I don’t ever want to see it again.”
“Done,” replied Amron, “and may I say good riddance.”
“Touché my dear,” said Candor, lifting his glass in a toast.
Jinx was confused, but after a moment he got the gist of what Candor was doing and lifted his glass in the same manner.
“To new beginnings,” he said as his glass touched Jinx’s. “And to you, Jinx, my new friend.”
The simulacrum smiled, and for some strange reason that he could not identify, he believed Candor. “So, where shall we begin?”
Candor grinned deviously. The wheels were turning, and there was nothing he could do except hold on for the ride. “If entertainment is the name of the game, then we’re going to give them something special. We’ll give them something they’ve never seen before.”
In the main parlor of Shuveen Manor, Candor’s parents sat next to each other. A small end table stood between them, with two glasses of beige liquid resting on crystal coasters. While in front of them, the wall was transparent. It allowed them to gaze at the ocean, and the brilliant sunrises that cascaded through the room in a magnificent rainbow of colors. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun had passed overhead. While in the distance, stars twinkled over the horizon. The waters near the shore were luminous, endowed with a green glow caused by the algae that thrived on the oxygen rich air.
“So, what do you think?”
Janesska picked up her glass, sipped a small portion, and then set it on the coaster. “I am not certain. Candor appears to be adjusting well.”
“I don’t mean that,” replied Sador, “I mean The Exodus.”
Janesska stared out at the sea, and for a moment she was lost in an ocean of thought that spanned hundreds of years. “I must admit. I never anticipated that this would be necessary.”
“No matter how hard we try, things continue to degenerate. Do you think that Candor has any indication? Should we attempt to question him?”
Janesska frowned at her husband. “He’s a child, little more than an adolescent. He hasn’t even had the opportunity to live to his potential. You know that without question he loves us both dearly.”
Sador picked up his glass and drank nearly all of it. After the alcohol had the opportunity to do its work, he shook his head. “We cann
ot allow our personal feelings to get in the way, my love. Something is happening to us, and we must find out what it is before we find ourselves extinct.”
“But we can’t,” Janesska protested.
“He may not be our true son,” Sador interrupted.
“You don’t know that, my husband. How can we know what Eos has done? The fadosh is eternal, and belongs to the Goddess alone. Who is to say that he is, or is not, our son?”
“We have a problem then, don’t we?” Sador replied. “I spoke with Zyphon privately. He informed me that any attempt at memory extraction could result in a psychotic break. And even then, he is not certain that the information will be coherent. Zyphon detected a quantum anomaly that cannot be identified. So, tell me, my love, what viable option remains?”
Janesska placed her hand over her husband’s as she both reasoned with, and comforted him. “We wait, my love. We wait for events to unfold, and for Candor to reveal things to us in his own way, and in his own time.”
“We cannot simply sit idle and do nothing.”
“I agree,” she replied. “However, as we exercise patience I suggest that you continue your work.” Then patting his hand affectionately, she added. “I have faith in you, my husband. After all, you are the finest mind in all Penticore Prime. If an explanation to the origin of this anomaly exists, then you shall discover it.”
Sador gazed into Janesska’s eyes. For the first time in centuries she realized that her husband was afraid. “I agree that we have time, my beloved wife. Yet what troubles me is the risk of not knowing. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I don’t know what the ultimate effect will be.”
Janesska caressed his face, knowing deep down that she was perfectly content to remain with Candor. Her maternal instincts came to life in a way that surprised her. She was going to protect him, regardless of the personal cost. He needed her love and guidance, and for as long as that remained the case she wasn’t going anywhere. “Then we must both be vigilant, and careful,” she said to him. “I have every confidence that we can do that much.”
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