“Elementary, my dear Watson! All is One! We’re all connected. Peace, Love and Little Doughnuts”.
“There she goes again...” murmured Pharaona.
“I don’t care what cha say! I’m gonna hit the road Jack and I ain’t comin’ back, no more no more[47] Beep, Beep! Catch me if you can Wile E. Coyote!”
“You can’t just leave! After all, if you hadn’t broken the Law...” Astellaria’s salty attitude was beginning to grate on Pharaona’s nerves. “OK, I’m taking big breaths now... I need to lower my sand pressure... D’you really think Big Bang will let you get away?”
“That’s fine, I’d rather face Big Bang up there, than burn down here! I’m going!” Astellaria announced with great resolve.
But then, Pharaona spliced Astellaria’s insolence with one cutting question: “Oh really! How?”
“I’ll find a way!” Astellaria retorted defiantly. “I couldn’t stand to be imprisoned again! It’s fine for Humans! Their gaze carries a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign! Even that hip dude Socrates said that all they do is feed and breed, and kick and butt at one another with horns and hoofs made of iron. I finally understand the ‘grant NOT’ wish! I get it!”
“Well, you should’ve thought about that before twinkling ‘Coming right up!’ What are you? A galactic drive-thru for double, double toil and trouble wishes?”
“But I was blasted before I could twinkle anything at all! Between you and me, the astrophysical fingerprint of my explosion incriminates Bang! He—”
“She!” exclaimed Pharaona in a politically correct outburst; but then when she thought of other theogenic possibilities it was, “Yikes... Them!”
“Whatever! He, She, Them... The One Infinite Dusty Mind! I bet my last speck Big Bang is behind my blast! But why such cruel and unusual punishment?”
“Cruel? Hmm... I don’t know. Maybe. The Mind is a strange thing and indeed it has been known to be capricious... and yes, even cruel. Depends on what perspective you take. I wouldn’t take it personally. It has its ups and downs just like everything else.” Ra was being unusually light-hearted about all this but of course she wasn’t the one sanded into a pile of hundreds and thousands. “Not take it personally? Holy Flying Dust! How can I possibly not take it personally?”
“It’s all about equilibrium. Remember, that all which exists is only another form of that which exists not. Everything that has being—”
“You’re doing my head in Ra. I don’t get Emerald Science! If we’re all part of the one universal, infinite, living mind, why all the zing? Why can’t the Mind be perfectly still or fuzzy-wuzzy forever and ever?”
“The Mind moves in mysterious ways,” Pharaona said offhandedly, before reverting to the hot question of ‘should I stay or should I go’. “Anyway, we have lots of spring cleaning to do!”
“Ooooh, I don’t like that look in your eye! You can’t keep breaking the Code!”
“Not me Twinkle Toes! You are not bridled by riddle. The Secret is about to unfold! They will know the truth, and the truth will set them free. Besides, you’re already in trouble!”
“We could end up in the Dust Soup again! Why would we waste our grit on them?”
“Oh I’m just feeling particularly inspired today,” Pharaona said before reaching inside her deepest crystals for her favourite Ode to Man.[48] Thankfully she didn’t have the music to this, so she simply recited bits of it: “Nothing is quite so formidable as man. Supplied with cleverness of every imaginable type, he ventures once towards evil, and then towards good. He is prepared for everything...Only against death has he at last no refuge.”
“Right! And it ain’t over till the fat lady sings! Not that you’re fat Raaaa... I mean you do have some extra sand around the hips but it’s hardly noticeable.” Astellaria’s humour did not tickle. Ra scrunched her nose and mouth but decided to ignore the gratuitous slight. She had other sands to sift. “You’re right about the cyber hacking,” Ra said adopting a very grave tone, “but we don’t want to be old hat superheroes, dear; we must be razzle-dazzle different!”
Astellaria sparkled like the Steinmitz Pink. “Yeah! Talk to me Harry Winston tell me all about it! Love, laughter and ‘happy after’!” Pharaona just stared. Astellaria cringed. Her cousin’s sand-brained ideas had exalted many, albeit, mostly posthumously. “Now, when you say ‘we’ have lots of spring cleaning to do,” said Astellaria pointing to herself, “you mean yours truly! OK Ra, let me be clear. I’m happy to cypherhack but nothing more... I’m not risking my specks again!” But, at that moment, her sandy cousin was the roughest, toughest rock in the world. A rock that wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
“Ferrett was right! You are off your granite! I don’t know if you’ve forgotten a little detail, but Olfus has them clustered at the border, ready to shoot first ask questions later. This Blondie is splitting! Toodle-oo! Here’s a song for you! Picture this, a sky full of thunder/ Picture this, my galactic number/ One and one is what I'm telling you, oh yeah!”
However, Astellaria didn’t get far. Pharaona threw her sticky dreamcatcher over the tiny glittery ball stopping her dead in her tracks. “All is Mind, Twinkles. No one can resist Dreamtime goo. What is real? What is but a dream?” Astellaria kicked and screamed. She managed to slip through some of the webbing, only to get caught by other layers of stickier thread. In the end, she got away in the same way she escaped from Victor. Invisible, she echoed, “All is Mind, and if you don’t mind, this starry mind, will mind its own business! Ta-ta! I’ll sprinkle some stardust on my way out.”
“You can run, but you can’t hide!” thundered Ra. Astellaria froze. “Oh boy! I won’t say keep your hat on, coz clearly you have a bee in your bonnet! But you know, not all Amarants dream. How will you control the non-dreamers?” she said timidly.
“Everybody dreams cousin...”
“Even ΩHM?”
“Most of all ΩHM! ΩHM broke free! Anyway, let me worry about the dreamers; you deal with all others!”
Realising her great escape was impossible, Astellaria resigned herself to her stellar fate. “A Dream! Of course! Why, that’s the way to fool Olfus’ preparation, and to conquer his most absurd intents,”[49] she mused, “but on one condition. I’m not getting hoovered again. If the dust falls, I want us to be immortalised in a Thunderbird convertible scene like Thelma & Louise.[50] And on that note, Astellaria spontaneously disintegrated and sprightly slammed down all Amaranthine systems, programmes, codes and glows.
SkEyeClops was permanently blinded.
All was pitch black, and Amarantis resembled the sleeping kingdom of an ancient fairy tale.
CHAPTER 15 - Dream A Little Dream
A humongous egg-shaped Amarantis, embraced by an equally humongous golden viper, set the opening scene of the reel rolling from the Aquarium. Pharaona put her heart, body and soul into this Dream as well as all techniques she had developed for Hitchcock’s ‘Vertigo’.
Her cameo as half bird, half woman occurred within the first two minutes. She spent hours trying to morph into an avant-garde Emergent Aphrodite. Believe it or not, she had the bright idea of merging Aphro with the Winged Victory, but ended up more like a stuffed dodo with Aphro’s face. However, all was not lost; she was ready to beguile with breath-taking stunts, together with her entrancing song. She ascended soprano through foaming clouds and jumped through gigantic Ouroboros fiery hoops. As she screeched, multi-coloured wishing lanterns floated up to the sky, distracting audiences from her killer notes.
The camera Dolly-zoomed Victor, stalking him as he darted nervously around his bunker. Blackout or no blackout, he had to cover up his blunder. If Olfus discovered his role in the escape of the dusty terrorists, his fate would be sealed on the recycling belt. Luckily, as a true Ferrett, he always had at least one card up his sleeve.
Prior to the hack, Olfus had summoned him for operation Brainstorm. This was not a drill; it was the real thing. Victor sculled a shot of his secretly stashed Johnny Walker, put on his Superman T-shi
rt and scooted off to the ARC. “Who’s going to be Olfus’ live corpse, I wonder? Surely it can’t be me,” he thought. After all, who would perform the brain-to-brain transfer?
As he approached the main gate of the ARC, Victor remarked that the ‘Work sets you free’ neon sign was replaced with ‘Dante’s circus is in town’. Swarms of happy-go-lucky Amarants were chatting and giggling, sinking their eyes and teeth into this unexpected tutti frutti fiesta. “Maybe it’s the Johnny,” he thought. “Maybe those glittery guerrillas—or even somebody else—slipped something into my bottle!” He jerkily stopped some passers-by to see if they saw what he saw. They did; although, interrogating one’s own imaginary figments, is probably not the best way to test ‘Reality’. He thought of turning back and sleeping it off, but then he also thought, “If Olfus’ summons is real, I better get there now”.
Whatever this was—the Johnny, or some unknown psycodic-related side-effect—it gripped him tight. Victor rubbed his eyes, opened and closed them a few times, then rubbed them again. Nothing changed. He eventually stopped fighting this Reality, and like Checherov, entered his own strange Sarcophagus. He started to record as much as he could, for later dissection. He noted down: “Chinese wishing lanterns invading skies; possible spying. White clouds showing ‘L'inferno’ of 1911.[51] Mari Silje Samuelsen playing Vivaldi’s ‘Summer’ at the top of the Staircase of the Giants. Temperature? A scorching record high for the month of April—5°C, 41°F. Arsenic scent in the air—sweet almonds everywhere. Lucy’s Carousel buzzing; surrounded by fire-throwers, jugglers and clowns. Huge posters showing Olfus as armless knife thrower—Darkstorm spinning on a ‘wheel of death’ surrounded by knives. Posters of Belladonna, as star of Disappearing Girl Trick”.
There was so much more to jot down but his watch announced that he was running dangerously late; he didn’t want the fate of Zippo—the spaghetti con le polpette guy. He got to the ARC pronto and into the disinfection chamber. Locked inside, suddenly his entire body froze and all he could feel was a tsunami of pins and needles. A white blinding light pierced his eyes, and his lungs were so squeezed he couldn’t pump enough air to scream. He was certain his head would split. “Oh my God,” he thought, “It’s not ozone, it’s halothane! My goose is cooked!”
Curled up like a dumpling, he sobbed hysterically as he rummaged through the crevices in his mind for the nuts and bolts of a perfect crime. “Should I blame it all on Dorion? Olfus hates him already,” he thought. Then he blurted, “Spare me Boss, you need me! Haven’t I always been steadfast and true, haven’t I always come to your emotional rescue?” The disinfection chamber opened and Victor rolled out and sprawled himself at Olfus’ feet.
“What the blazes are you’re dribbling about, you numbskull? What is this, a Rolling Stones karaoke? Pull yourself together. You’re an embarrassment.” Victor obeyed his Master’s voice. “Are you coming down with something man?” asked Olfus. “You were delirious a few seconds ago. It might be best for Darkstorm to take over,” he announced, eyeballing Victor from head to toe, as Victor replied, “If you want to be turned into a rococo toad, go ahead, replace me with that witch. She’s already written your obituary,” he trumpeted, whilst his trembling fingers scrolled his phone for the incriminating evidence. “Here it is, in her own handwriting. As you can see, it’s pinned onto a torn photo, and it’s your torn face in that other half.” Olfus grabbed Victor’s phone, and marbled-faced he quietly read the ‘obituary’.
Death of a Lone Wolf
I wasn’t there
When you threw your blades.
Not because I flinched;
Your aim was off.
You didn’t hurt me.
I watched through my tears,
As you girded with barbed wire
Your broken heart.
“Women who love can only lose,” you said.
So I let you win.
That person you slashed
Wasn’t mine.
I wasn’t there.
It wasn’t me.
The phone slipped from Olfus’ hands and he collapsed, burying his face in his hands. “Wipe that smugness off your face Sherlock. You know nothing. Get out!” he hurled, and banged his fist into a large screen that stole his grey reflection. Victor was stunned. He didn’t expect that reaction. He ferreted out of the sombre room, counting his blessings. After all, he was more or less intact; he left with his own brain inside his own skull attached to his very own jittery carcass—minus his amputated tailing pride.
In the skinny corridor, he caught a glimpse of Darkstorm and hid double-quick to avoid the eye of that whirl. She smelt his feared up sweat as she fired past him. He was sure she hadn’t seen him. He felt relieved. That hot dust devil had a very firm direction; straight towards the hell he just barely escaped. Olfus’ door banged like a starter gun and on the count of 3, duelling ‘pistols’ were cocked and aiming. Victor’s adrenaline never pumped faster. His legs ran faster than the Roadrunner with triple horsepower.
“Is there a Plan B here, Wolfie? ‘Cause baby, I can’t hang upon no lover’s cross for you.[52] I told you not to fib about D-Day, but no, you had to have your own way!”
“I got it Janie. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“What if they start questioning their Reality? What if they start cutting their ropes? Our throats will be next!”
“You’re overreacting,” Olfus said dismissively. “Most Humans are happy to be house pets. Same goes for GROMS!” His eyes had that curious blue glare of a nocturnal predator. Then, out of the blue he growled, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about this?” Victor’s Exhibit A was shoved in her face.
Darkstorm was stunned for a split second and then broke into raucous laughter. “You’ve got a ferret spying on me now? Pathetic!” Olfus’ spite gathered momentum and his head looked like a cauliflower cloud about to explode. Janie almost felt sorry for him. “It’s something I scribbled after Lucy’s... final curtain. She and I realised something about someone... at about the same time. She dealt with it her way, and I with mine.”
“What’s Mother got to do with this?”
“Nothing. I felt the need to scratch out some nonsense about the death of... um... our ‘relationship’. I guess it counts as an obituary. It’s a good thing you got that slimy rat to go through my trash draw; such amazing literature would’ve otherwise gone unnoticed.”
Olfus’ tone mellowed. “Were you that unhappy with me Janie?” he asked dolefully.
Janie couldn’t tell him the truth. She just couldn’t. Can the soulless be alive? How do you tell someone that he no longer exists, that he hasn’t existed for a long time? What was she to do? Olfus was commanding an answer. She wavered for a moment and made a brave attempt at diplomacy. “Wolfie, happiness is impossible for people like us,” she said, as the ARC blew its top off. Unperturbed, Darkstorm gazed into the midnight sky adorned by thousands of golden puffballs and wishing lanterns. Olfus didn’t seem to notice anything. “Strange,” she thought. Literally, the entire croquembouche roof burst and floated away and he wasn’t aware of it. She didn’t mind. She just said, “Things got out of whack, that’s all. Lucy warned you about the risks of... um... burying yourself in your work.”
“I dedicated myself to science. What’s wrong with that? All my life, Mother pressed me like a lemon”. He slouched, feeling once again the greatest weight in the world. “She always had such great expectations. I just wanted her to see me!” he said, gazing upon the Wakeful Tree logo shining from his watch dial.
“Wolfie, you can’t blame mummy for everything. You’re a grown man, an old man. Anyway, she did see you. You know what they say about the eyes being the mirrors of the soul,” Janie said hauntingly, her own gaze wandering off again towards the confetti sky. “It’s all in the eyes.”
Olfus’ right eye started to twitch and he suddenly had difficulty breathing.
“What a pity Lucy never told you to watch your mouth,” Olfus snarled, showing his fangs.
Just as things were getting interesting and reaching an unprecedented climax, Belladonna stumbled in with updates from the battlefront. “Boss there’s no one there... The O-Gates cracked open and—”
“What?” Olfus nearly fainted. “The O-Gates cracked open?”
“Yes Sir, the O-Gates cracked open, night has fallen and still the barbarians have not come. And the GROMs who have just returned from the border say there are no barbarians any longer... Nada, zilcho!”
“And now, Wolfie, what’s going to happen to us without barbarians?” said Jane, pointing out that, “They were, those people, a kind of solution.”[53]
“Oh thunderbolts and lightning! What is this, a Mothers’ Club meeting?” Olfus got huffy and ordered everybody out—everybody except Dorion. The tiny rebel group stood in front of him, arms crossed, eyes glaring. Nobody budged. “What now?” Olfus sniggered, “Shall we wait for Superman to zoom in and save the day?” And shazam, speak of the devil! Victor flew in faster than a speeding bullet, bearing unbearable news: “Holy kryptonite! Practically the whole of Amarantis is outside. They’re armed with torches, rocks and loud voices!”
“I’m getting outta here!” said Dorion as he turned his back on Olfus and his flunkeys. “I’ll let you Big Shots take care of your BS”. Olfus screeched madly, “Don’t make a move! That’s an order!” Dorion ignored him. Olfus continued screaming, “How dare you? I’m a genius! I’ll have you recycled before you can say twinkle twinkle little star!” Dorion walked without faltering. He turned his head back only for an instant; long enough to say, “Your genius nearly sent us back to the caves. Get a life Olfus. We’re taking ours back.”
Amaranthine Historica Page 9
