Box Set #3: The Serenity Deception: [The 4 book 3rd Adventure of Egg and the Hameggattic Sisterhood]

by Robert Iannone

  That’s not what Serenity wanted. So, Syl said, “Don’t let Tee’ka’s sacrifice be in vain. Take a few minutes before we start again. Okay?”

  “Okay,” came the mumbled reply.

  Then something unexpected happened. The BreeZee avatar made a major mistake. Think of it as a glitch in Serenity’s software program. “Spirit, Egg’s knee is bleeding and I’m sure it must hurt. Why don’t you heal it for her?”

  The problem was that Serenity had no way to give the avatar the power to heal. Or to see the future, for that matter. Those were completely beyond the technology at her disposal. Just to get it to communicate by telepathy took a monumental effort.

  “That would be great,” said Egg. “It does hurt.” She looked at Spirit expectantly.

  “I . . . I . . . um . . . I’m so sorry Egg. But with the tragic loss of Tee’ka, my mind isn’t as focused as it should be. Perhaps later.”

  Click. In Egg’s mind, another piece of the puzzle seemed to fall into place.

  “Sure, I understand. No problem.” But that triggered yet another thought . . . something she had seen but didn’t have a chance to process at the time. She turned to the dragon and asked “Hey, Bl’azzz. When we saw that T. Rex, it was pretty scary wasn’t it. Pretty ferocious monster.”

  “Yeah, very. Why?”

  “You didn’t burp and burn. You always burp and burn when you’re startled. Why not this time?”

  The F’yre dragon shrugged. She couldn’t very well tell the girl it was another problem with Serenity’s software. “I just forgot, I guess.”

  Click.

  *****

  Serenity’s Ship

  Everyone had watched the scene unfold. The T. Rex attack, Egg trying to distract it, Tee’ka sacrificing herself, Egg charging and disarming Mysteria, Egg crying her heart out at the loss of her new friend . . . and the mistakes by Spirit and Bl’azzz.

  The sisters had cried along with Egg. The loss of Tee’ka – her act of selfless bravery – was terrible to watch. Awful to contemplate. Impossible to accept.

  Serenity, too, had tears in her one good eye. Her world had always been one of logic and reasoning. Of rational thought and deep intellectual analysis. There were almost no sentimental expressions. Even her mother, whom she loved to the point of worship, had seldom shown an emotional side to her daughter. It was illogical.

  But an artificial life form had willingly and voluntarily sacrificed herself to save Egg and the others. She had known them for only a few days. How was it possible that she had formed such an attachment in such a short a time? What magic had Egg used to win her over so completely?

  And, if Tee’ka was just another tool that Egg was using to achieve her own ambitions, why was she so obviously devastated by the girl’s loss?

  Unless . . . unless . . .

  Serenity turned to her captives. “Do you finally understand what I’m talking about? Did you see the blatant way your dear leader faked her sorrow at the loss of the hostess just to confuse the others into thinking she really cared? She doesn’t. She was using Tee’ka like she uses the rest of you. She manipulates each of you with this phony show of love and caring. She is the worst kind of exploiter. She preys on your innate goodness.”

  She stopped only because she was out of breath. The words had tumbled out of her mouth in a torrent. She was vindicated. She had been right all along. She had won.

  “I have had enough of this,” Spirit told her sisters. “It is time.” To the Shamie (who was on her back, gently snoring) she said, “Jynx, do not look at me. Just listen carefully to what I am about to tell you. Egg is in trouble as are the rest of us. I want you to do the following . . . but not until I say go,” and she proceeded to give her companion detailed instructions.

  When she finished, she told Sylvia, “Talk to Serenity. Give her something to think about; something that will distract her from us. From Jynxie.”

  Tap.

  “Serenity.”

  “Yes, Feminion?”

  “Your analysis was wrong as usual, but be that as it may, you made a fatal mistake. Two, actually. Spirit’s inability to heal was so obviously out of character that Egg won’t fail to notice. Heck, our exotic alien sister healed Aeri’elle and the Princess during a firestorm. Then there’s our beloved F’yre Dragon. Bl’azzz not burping when the T. Rex roared . . . not good. Major error.”

  “She’s right. They don’t call me gasbag for nothing. But . . . they do it with love and affection.”

  “Heck, if she didn’t burp and burn,” added Soo, “she’d be one dreadfully dull dragon.”

  “As always, you all give Egg too much credit. She’ll never connect the dots . . . never see the big picture of my plan. Without her Feminion’s brain, she just isn’t that clever. Watch. I expect her to miraculously recover from her grief and resume her quest for the suit.”

  But the seed of doubt had been planted and the one-eyed girl was now totally focused on the doings back on the mountain . . . her back turned to the sisters. And to Jynxie.

  *****

  Egg looked at Mysteria. “This little adventure is over. I’m going back.”

  “Then you’ll forfeit your suit.”

  “Don’t care.”

  The now unmasked girl glanced at BreeZee who was holding the staff-like weapon and nodded. She lunged and pretended to grapple it away from the unsuspecting Wind’dancer.

  “Egg,” the winged girl yelped.

  Egg turned around to see Mysteria, mask back in place, with the weapon pointing at BreeZee. “You’re going to continue or this butterfly is gone.”

  “What’s a butterfly?”

  “What?”

  “What’s a butterfly?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “But you keep calling her that. Why?”

  “Why? Because she looks like one.”

  “Really. But you just said you had no idea what one was.”

  Mysteria stood there, eyes blinking rapidly. Up on the ship, Serenity was racking her brain trying to come up with an answer.

  “Tell you what. Zap her.”

  BreeZee cried, “What?”

  “Zap her. Sorry . . . butterfly girl. You messed up and let Mysteria take back the weapon. Shame on you.”

  “Egg, what are you saying?” asked Sylvia.

  Ignoring her best friend, Egg said to Mysteria. “Zap them all.”

  That was greeted by a chorus of “WHAT’s.”

  “None of you are my sisters. No idea what you are . . . maybe the big cheese has messed with your minds. I felt it from the time I came out of that stupid dream thing. Then afterward, there was a whole bunch of stuff that was out of character. And now, Spirit can’t heal and Bl’azzz can’t burp. Oh my gosh, give me a break. So, whoever is doing all this . . . and I don’t think it’s you, Mysteria . . . you can have them. I’m not playing anymore.” She turned and started to walk away.

  “What about Tee’ka?”

  Egg turned back and stared at the masked girl. “Whoever did this to her is going to pay . . . if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  *****

  Serenity was horrified. Her whole plan was unraveling before her eyes. She started to pound away at the keyboard to send new instructions to her avatars. Absorbed as she was, she never heard or felt the Shamie.

  Jynx shifted into a snake-like creature . . . and the obedience collar fell off.

  She then shifted into a likeness of AyBee. She sent her eight arms shooting out much like she had done during the air race. One arm grabbed Serenity’s left hand, another her right, then both legs, and two encircled her head just in case she could issue commands by moving it. The two remaining hands covered her eyes and her mouth. Again, it was to insure she couldn’t give commands with either.

  She couldn’t move, talk or anything else.

  Unfortunately, the girls were still trapped in their chairs.

  Stalemate. Nobody wins.

  *****

  On the Spirit’s Ship Seven />
  When the Seven was put into a parking orbit, it wasn’t shut down like you would do for a car in a parking lot. The computer had to stay on to manage a number of functions . . . fire the engines to insure that the ship stayed in its proper orbit, protect it from meteors or unauthorized entry, repair any systems that might fail and to beam up any of the crew that wished to return.

  If anyone had been on board, they would have noticed that it sent a transmission from an archived file to a sub-system in Laff’Alott’s central computer.

  This was followed by a rapid succession of signals to and from the ship to the planet and back again.

  A minute or so later, on an island in the middle of a lake, a suit made of serpent’s crystals dematerialized.

  Seconds later, on a mountaintop outside of Fair’Giggle, Egg’s five phony sisters collapsed to the ground . . . making no sound at all. It was as if they had been turned off.

  A heartbeat later, Mysteria staggered . . . but didn’t fall. When she regained her balance, she called to Egg who was thirty or forty feet away. “Egg, wait.”

  Egg was about to say something nasty . . . but didn’t. Her mind was racing, followed by her heartbeat. It was the voice. She turned around, looked at the masked girl, and said, “Tee’ka?”

  Chapter 6 – To Fly

  In the Mountains back on Earth

  “So, what shall we talk about first?” asked Grammy.

  “Well, as an ex-navy officer, I’ve done a fair bit of traveling as you might guess. There isn’t a continent I haven’t explored, a sea I haven’t sailed and a port I’ve haven’t visited. I’ve got as many stories as you could hope for.”

  “My, my. Such a man of the world. Can I presume that there was a young lady in each of those port-of-calls?”

  Ezra laughed. “Not everyone. What about you . . . have you done much traveling?”

  Grammy startled her friend by barking a very loud laugh. She put her hand over her mouth and blushed. “Sorry.”

  “What was so funny?”

  “I . . . I’ve had opportunities to travel to some very far and unusual places.” She, of course, was thinking of Aerianna.

  “Really? Where?”

  “That’s one secret that I may not be able to reveal. At least, not for a while,” she answered mysteriously.

  “Don’t tell me you’re a spy. Clandestine missions to exotic lands . . . James Bond secret agent stuff.”

  “Do I look like a secret agent?”

  He gave her an exaggerated ‘once-over’. “Well, I’m no expert but you do have a certain air of mystery about you. It’s the eyes I think . . . very wise, all knowing. Eyes that have seen things no mere mortal on Earth has ever seen. Yup, definitely a spy.”

  “Well, I’ll give you points for being partially right.”

  “Really? Which part?”

  “Sorry. My lips are sealed. I promised the Queen I would never tell.” She was referring to Rose’Alynnia but Ezra naturally assumed it was a reference to the Queen of England – someone James Bond would defer to.

  “Now I’m intrigued. How do I get you to break your silence and tell me everything?”

  He was half-joking but Grammy answered with all seriousness. “Perhaps in time.”

  That response only served to pique his interest even more. But he wasn’t going to push her to give up her secrets before she was ready. “Well, then you leave me no choice. So, this is on you.”

  “What is on me?”

  “I have no alternative but to bore you with hours and hours of stories from my misguided youth to my wise old age. So, where shall I begin?”

  “Like all good stories, one must always begin at the beginning.”

  “Ah, very wise.” His face lit up with a mischievous smile as he began his tale. “I was born on a cold winter’s day in the wee hours of the morning . . .”

  “Stop.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not that beginning. Why don’t we jump ahead to the first time you set sail?”

  “Are you sure? I was a very precocious baby. Did you know that I was potty trained by two . . . that’s an exceptional accomplishment.”

  Grammy laughed again. “You are incorrigible. I will stipulate that you were a child prodigy and an extraordinary infant. But, I’m not getting any younger and I’d prefer to skip to the interesting part of your story. I presume there is an interesting part?”

  “Ouch. Of course, there’s an interesting part. Maybe more than one.”

  “Then get to it man. We’re losing daylight,” she teased.

  “As you command, my lady. Let’s see, where shall I begin? Okay . . . here’s a little known fact about me. After spending twenty years in the Navy, my first love is not sailing but flying.”

  “Really? Seems a bit strange.”

  “I tried to get into naval aviation but I didn’t qualify. Those guys are really extraordinary aviators. I was only good . . . well, very good. Just not good enough. So I settled for a life at sea. However, in my off hours, I earned a private pilot’s license. Then, I built a replica of 1930’s era biplane. It’s called the Bird. Here, let me show you a picture,” and he reached for his wallet.

  Grammy was going to tease him about carrying a picture of an airplane but decided not to. It was obviously something very important to him and she didn’t want to trivialize it.

  “Here she is . . .,” and he handed her the photograph. “I call her ‘My Flying Gal’.

  She stared in amazement . . . very impressed and totally shocked. “You built this?”

  “I did. I found the plans in an air museum and was able to make a copy. She took me over five years to complete. I’m pretty proud of her.”

  “Well, you should be. It’s beautiful. And the name? How did you choose Flying Gal?”

  “Is it too chauvinistic? I would have called her Flying Lady . . . but that sounds like a horse ranch,” and he chuckled at his own joke.

  “So there was no particular significance to it?”

  “Actually, it’s a take on The Flying Girl, a novel written by Frank Baum, the author of the Wizard of Oz. Have you read it?’

  “I have not . . . though heaven knows that I should.”

  Ezra didn’t pick up on Grammy’s unusual emotion. Instead, he said, “Let me give a quick summary without spoiling the plot for you. It’s the story of Orissa, the sister of Steve Kane who is building his own flying machine. When he suffers a broken leg in a crash and can’t fly, Orissa takes his place to prove the validity of his aircraft design. She ends up demonstrating her own courage and competence in the process, winning the top prize in an aerial exhibition.”

  “I will definitely read it. Well, I approve of the name . . . though, from a personal preference, Flying Girl would have been better than Gal.”

  “I didn’t want to use Baum’s title so I changed it.”

  “Very considerate. Where is the plane hangared?”

  “Actually, it’s how I got here. The airport is down in the valley. Have you ever flown before? I’m not talking about a commercial airliner; that’s not really flying. I mean in a small plane – where you really feel like you’re one with the sky.”

  “Have I ever flown? Well . . .” but she couldn’t finish. She tried mightily to keep a straight face but she just couldn’t. She started with a giggle but that only opened the floodgates and soon she was laughing so hard, tears were falling from her eyes. Her face turned red . . . though it might have been from embarrassment.

  Ezra stared at his companion. He had a smile on his lips but his eyes were scrunched in confusion. He let her go on for more than three minutes then decided enough was enough. “Okay, take a deep breath and tell me what’s so funny.”

  Grammy dabbed at her eyes, then fanned her face with her hand. “Oh, my. So sorry about that.”

  “I’m waiting. What did I say to set you off?”

  Since Grammy refused to lie, she had only two choices. Either tell him the truth about her and Egg or . . . “Forgive m
e, Ezra. I can’t. Really, if I could I would. Someday . . . maybe. Can you accept that?”

  “I’m completely baffled as to what could cause a laughing fit that you can’t share with me . . . but, since I have no choice, I’ll wait until you’re ready to share your secret.”

  “Thank you. But please, tell me more about you obsession with flying.”

  “Before I do, I have to ask . . . will you go up with me in my plane? Since it’s an open cockpit, it might be a little scary . . . at first.”

  Grammy didn’t answer right away for fear of laughing again. It took a few seconds to make sure she could control herself. “I would dearly love to go flying with you. It is also a passion of mine.”

  “Really? You like to fly?”

  This time she had to put her hand over her mouth. “Yes” she finally answered. “I love to fly.”

  Ezra stared at his friend. “You know, there is something weird going on here and I just can’t figure it out.”

  Before she could stop herself, Grammy said, “You don’t know the half of it.”

  He continued to stare but it was obvious there was no more information or clarification forthcoming. “Well, I’ll just tell you one more thing . . . then it’ll be your turn. Have you ever heard of a wing-suit?”

  “I have not. Is it a military thing?”

  “No. It’s used by the bravest, or perhaps the foolish, extreme sportsmen. It was first developed in the 1920’s but as you would expect, like all technology, it has evolved over time. In essence, it’s a . . . um . . . a flying suit.”

  Grammy had been sipping water when he said it. She began to cough as the liquid went down the wrong ‘pipe’ from the shock of the phrase ‘flying suit’. “WHAT? What did you say?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I am. Sorry. Did you say flying suit?”

  “Yes. Don’t laugh, I have a picture of that too” and he pulled it out of his wallet.

  She studied it closely and was relieved that it wasn’t made from serpent’s crystals. “Ah, fascinating. And you can actually fly . . . but how? I see no propulsion system.”