Intragalactic Expo

by Doc Watto

  Inside the globe, Flatterfly led Infinity and Orrick to the observation deck. From this balcony located in the upper reaches of the dome, visitors could observe what appeared to be a planet in suspended animation at the centre of the vast chamber. What they were witnessing was a virtual replication of the actual planet as seen from space, known as a planetary. Every globe in the Intragalactic Expo had a planetary inside, like the yolk of an egg. The planetary at the centre of this particular globe represented Crittacea, a dullish red planet that seemed to blend into mediocrity amidst the inky black void between it and the observation deck.

  ‘Before we enter the planetary, could I ask you to please sign these?’ said Flatterfly, presenting Orrick and Infinity with ‘Acknowledgement of Risk’ forms.

  Infinity dutifully signed, but Orrick looked blankly at the form.

  ‘Just here, if you wouldn‘t mind,’ said Flatterfly to Orrick, pointing to the signature spot.

  ‘He can’t sign,’ Infinity chipped in.

  ‘Why not? It’s just a formality.’

  ‘No, he can’t sign because he can’t read.’

  ‘Well, just draw a circle, an “O” for Orrick,’ suggested Flatterfly.

  ‘Infinity, would you read it to me please?’ asked Orrick, ‘no offence Flatterfly, it’s just that the last time I did something without signing up for it, I found myself here.’

  ‘None taken,’ replied Flatterfly before enquiring, ‘you mean you are here against your will?’

  ‘Well, it’s like this ...,’

  Orrick’s reply was immediately interrupted by Infinity reading aloud the contents of the risk form;

  ‘You are about to experience a replay of reality as recorded on Closed Circuit Tele-Vacteria (CCTV). Tele-Vacteria are bacteria that infiltrate the entire planet, harmlessly and inconspicuously capturing waves that enable the sensations of sight, sound and smell to be reproduced and replayed to visitors within the globe. Visitors are advised that there are inherent risks. The Intragalactic Expo Authority (IGEA) cannot be held responsible for any consequences. Sign here.’

  On the observation deck inside the globe, the force of gravity was present. Beyond the balcony and into open space, there was no gravity. Zero gravity was colloquially called ’Zip-G’. Risk form formalities complete, Flatterfly launched himself into Zip-G and hovered without flapping his hands. He was floating instead of flying. Infinity grabbed Orrick, held him securely and leapt over the balcony. Suspended in the void, Orrick was anxious; even more so when Infinity began lifting his claws to release him. Desperately he clung to her arms, then to her legs for dear life while she tried to unhitch him. She succeeded and he broke away, terrified for a few seconds - until he began drifting. Orrick took to Zip-G like a fish to water. Gliding ahead, he quickly passed Flatterfly and charged onward toward the planetary at the centre of the globe. A sloth was slow on land but fast in Zip-G.

  ‘Try to keep up!’ Orrick shouted toward Infinity, wearing his permanently etched smile.

  Infinity was quietly impressed with his ability in Zip-G but annoyed by his confidence, rolling her eyes in disdain and remarking in irony; ‘No need to rush!’

  Three figures floated freely in Zip-G before emerging in the planetary. Still in zero gravity and now immersed in the world of Crittacea, they were witness to a replay of the recent past within a replica of the real planet. Their senses were stirred with the sights, sounds and smells of new surroundings.

  Chapter 2 - Crittacea

  The replicated world of Crittacea had a thin atmosphere that appeared crimson coloured from the surface with only a dim light from a smattering of visible stars. Two objects dominated the sky, Crittacea’s neighbouring planets of Fuglia and Pasteurise. Closest was Fuglia, the ugliest planet in the galaxy, potato shaped with stems growing out of it. It was a sickly yellowish colour with a splattering of fungal green algae - the sort of object mothers tell their children not to look at too long for fear of eye damage. The twin planet called Pasteurise was more visually appealing, at least compared to Fuglia. Home to the expo, Pasteurise was bathed in a soy milk shade of white which made it look artificial.

  The terrain of Crittacea was a series of rocky, ragged hills tinted in a mix of ashen brown and devoid of any greenery. An orange glow stood out like a campfire in the wilderness. The Warp-worm had arrived and the bright interior light beamed through the open doors onto the Crittacean landscape. Outside the Warp-worm, Benny the robot placed two cylinders on a flat piece of ground about one hundred metres apart. Standing in between them, he pressed a remote control button which activated force-fields in opposite directions. A low pitched buzzing sound was heard from each cylinder.

  ‘Stand back,’ said Benny to Yarnplodder, a local inhabitant of Crittacea who always enjoyed a friendly chat with anyone, anywhere, anytime. Yarnplodder stood on two wide feet to support its disproportionately large head and elephant-like trunk.

  ‘What are those cylinders for?’ asked Yarnplodder.

  ‘You’ll see,’ replied Benny.

  A cloud-life formation gathered and with a sudden swoosh, the cloud was sucked into one of the cylinders.

  ‘Wow, amazing spectacle!’ said Yarnplodder, ‘what is it?’

  ‘Tele-Vacteria,’ he replied, ‘bacteria that convert sensory waves into food.’

  ‘Incredible. What do you do with it?’ enquired Yarnplodder.

  ‘I return the cylinder to the Intragalactic Expo where the fully-fed bacteria relieve themselves. This output is processed into data, reformed into virtual reality and replayed within the globe a short time later.’

  While the fully-fed bacteria was captured in one cylinder, a simultaneous release had occurred from the other cylinder. Resembling smoke from a genie bottle, a cloud of concentrated, hungry Tele-Vacteria settled in the upper atmosphere before dispersion into invisibility. Immediately, they began infiltrating every nook and cranny of the planet. Any sensation experienced by anything was consumed by these miraculous micro-organisms. When evacuated, the sensations gathered from Tele-Vacteria were reassembled to reproduce the remarkable worlds on display at the Intragalactic Expo.

  Flatterfly floated over to Orrick in the omnipresent world of Crittacea. Reciting what seemed to be a carefully prepared quote from a glossy promotional brochure, he began his sales pitch;

  ‘The Yarnplodder. Evolution has embellished the Yarnplodder with two main attributes: firstly, at the end of its trunk is a huge hand primarily used for handshakes; and secondly, an extra-large larynx for talking. The Yarnplodder is everyone’s friend. It plods along all day chatting and spinning yarns with anyone it meets in return for food, water, shelter or anything else that it needs to survive. A Yarnplodder has a short memory span, so if you run out of topics to discuss with it, simply wait a while and the conversation starts all over again.’

  As Benny sealed the cylinder containing the fully fed bacteria, a task he did around two-hundred times a day on twenty different planets, the conversation began again.

  ‘What are those cylinders for?’ asked Yarnplodder.

  The ‘Benny’ class of robot was especially designed for sociability. He could deal with talkative patrons like Yarnplodder as well as sing, dance and perform stand-up comedy. Distractions from Yarnplodder had caused Benny’s predecessor Billy to malfunction and mix cylinders from different planets with catastrophic effects for tourism.

  No problems for Benny though. Cylinder intact, he had satisfied Yarnplodder’s insatiable quest for conversation and was now ready to depart in the Warp-worm when he heard a call from afar.

  ‘Wait a sec!’

  Yarnplodder heard the cry as well and somehow remembered something that had been said to him a bit earlier;

  ‘That’s Philostone,’ said Yarnplodder, ‘he wants to go to the Intragalactic Expo and asked me to stall you until he could get here.’

  ‘Philostone!’ replied a bemused Benny, ‘but Philostone is a rock entrenched in the ground! He is at least half a kilometre away
and will never get here unless we wait fifty million years for continental drift to occur.’

  ‘I’m in no hurry. What are those cylinders for?’

  ‘Well, I am in a hurry, I should be in Fuglia right now.’

  Outside the Warp-worm, Benny grabbed a quick glance at the sickly sight of his next stop and said, ‘I have a passenger waiting on board who also wants to see the Intragalactic Expo.’

  ‘Too late,’ said Yarnplodder profoundly, looking beyond Benny and inside the Warp-worm. Benny turned around apprehensively.

  Inside the Warp-worm, a large egg had just cracked revealing a creature with only a head. Through evolution, its arms, legs and entire body had disappeared. It had a wide spherical base and a narrow cylindrical forehead. Two enlarged eyes spun like psychedelic spinning wheels separated by a tubular mouth jutting out from the base of the head. Its colour was a hazy shade of green.

  ‘Look! Oh wow, a Fundie has just hatched,’ pronounced Flatterfly. On cue, he recited the sales pitch.

  ‘A Fundie is born happy. With no stress, it progresses to a state of elation. Then it feels ecstatic. Rapture takes over until it feels completely euphoric … and then it dies. The sensation is all too much. On the upside, the Fundie has a very enjoyable life. On the downside, its life-span is very short. It is all over in less than a minute. The challenge of doing anything worthwhile during that time, in particular reproduction, have made the Fundie an endangered species. Post-mortems reveal that a Fundie is comprised of ninety-five percent illicit substances.

  Exhilarated, the Fundie shrieked its first, last and only word before dying; ‘Phantasmagoria!’

  Orrick closed his eyes in respect and reflected to himself on the Fundie, ‘all it really wanted to do was see the expo before it was born.’ He decided to observe a minutes’ silence for the Fundie, but fell asleep after thirty-three seconds.

  ‘He’s not dead is he?’ asked Flatterfly, staring at Orrick and contemplating the validity of an “O” on the ‘Acknowledgement of Risk’ form.

  ‘No, probably just dozing,’ said Infinity cynically, ‘it’s a tough life being a sloth. You know I have to carry him everywhere. I’m not sure if he is apathetic or just plain pathetic!’

  Orrick awoke just in time to hear every word that Infinity had said. Now more sensitive to her comments, they really cut him deep. His anguished state of mind spurred him into action. Erratically he surged in the emptiness of Zip-G. Anywhere, everywhere in a zigzag direction, eventually landing on the observation deck. Outside Zip-G, Orrick could do nothing but crawl. Expecting to float again, he tipped himself over the edge on the wrong side of the balcony. He fell under the force of gravity. In free fall, he imagined the screams of Infinity calling his name.

  Seconds before impact, Orrick was saved by something that felt like a cushion of air. A magnetic vacuum slowed his fall, easing him gently into something that felt like a beanbag which moulded itself to the shape of his body for a snug fit. He had landed in the seat of a carpuck, a small, disc shaped object comprising electronic gadgetry to make it go fast.

  Suffering psychologically but sitting comfortably with a series of touch-pad buttons in front of him, Orrick randomly pressed all of them to make something happen. Something did. Instantaneously he was propelled forward with the force of an ejection seat in a jet fighter plane.

  Infinity and Flatterfly were in close pursuit of Orrick. Leading the way, Flatterfly shouted for Infinity to follow him as he jumped from the balcony. Hovering like a feather while she plummeted like a rock, he lamented; ‘Oops, I forgot she can’t fly.’

  Luckily Infinity, like Orrick, was saved by a magnetic vacuum and landed in a carpuck.

  ‘There he goes!’ she shouted as Orrick disappeared in the distance.

  Quickly scanning the surroundings, Infinity asked Flatterfly, ‘Where are we?’ It looks like an ice skating rink.’

  ‘This is the “magnetic underground”‘, replied Flatterfly eagerly, ‘a fantastic new transport system, still under construction but almost finished. It will transfer visitors between globes at twenty times the speed of madcabs. That’s why the cabbies are on strike. It will put those little monkeys out of business.’

  Quoting from an information flyer he had memorised about the magnetic underground, Flatterfly was back in spruiker mode; ‘Completely underground, there are there are tens of thousands of globes above us. Passengers will be relayed from globe to globe in car pucks, scores of them, powered by electromagnetic fields generated between globes. Travelling in a straight line with no obstacles in between, the carpuck is there in no time. Upon reaching the target globe, it is instantly elevated to the observation deck in a magnetic vacuum. And the system is perfectly safe. Each carpuck emits a repulsion force to deflect the beam of any approaching vehicle causing them to deviate slightly if there is any risk of collision.’

  Sitting in the seat of a carpuck Infinity demanded, ‘Right then, that’s enough hype. How do I operate this thing?’

  ‘Just do what Orrick did, but be sure to select Fuglia because that’s where it looks like he is headed,’ chuckled Flatterfly.

  Rubbing his hands together in a business-like manner, Flatterfly continued; ‘I told you I could find a quick way for you to get around. Now, about these Warm-worm tickets to Crittacea; how many do you want? I can …,’

  Suddenly the carpuck was catapulted across the smooth surface of the magnetic underground gliding like an ice-hockey puck.

  Flatterfly’s words were left hanging in mid-air. He completed the sentence in a mumble; ‘… do you a good price?’

  Chapter 3 - Fuglia

  In a matter of seconds, Infinity arrived at the Fuglia globe and was immediately sucked up in a magnetic vacuum to the observation deck, carpuck and all.

  Flobwobble appeared; ‘Infinity. Long-time no see.’

  ‘Flobwobble’, she answered, unimpressed, ‘what a pleasant … well, what a surprise.’

  Flobwobble was a spruiker for Fuglia in the same way that Flatterfly spruiked for Crittacea. He was friendly if nothing else. Standing on four fat legs immersed in a wad of blubber, Flobwobble’s small eyes and open mouth were the only features to distinguish face from body.

  Where’s your friend?’ he asked, ‘You almost always have one with you?’

  Flobwobble answered his own question with another one, ‘Or was that him? Pointing accusingly at Orrick rushing away in Zip-G, ‘If it was, he didn’t sign an “Acknowledgement of Risk” form.’

  ‘That’s him!’ she said before instinctively diving into Zip-G, ‘I just met him on the Warp-worm.’

  Flobwobble followed, pleading in desperation: ‘It’s dangerous out there Infinity. And you haven’t signed the risk form yet. Wait for me, I will guide you … has your friend ever been to Fuglia? I can sell him discounted tickets?’

  From a distance, Fuglia was an ugly, foreboding place. Close up, it was even worse. Fuglia was filthy. It looked and smelt like a rubbish dump. The surface of the planet was obscured by layers of garbage. Food scraps, faded newspapers, broken bottles, used tyres and car wrecks - you name it, it was all there.

  Flobwobble shouted to Infinity: ‘Watch out! Cycloon warning! There is a clean spot ahead!’

  A stickler for cleanliness but a catastrophic cleaner, the Cycloon approached an area it had not yet traversed. The crab-like creature covered the clean spot and went into action zealously applying its trade. Twirling into a typhoon, the Cycloon blew everything everywhere! Leaving behind a disaster area, it crab-walked away searching for somewhere else to clean and someone else to blame for the mess it had caused. Fuglia holds the title as the most untidy planet in the galaxy thanks to the cleaning efforts of the Cycloon.

  Drifting beyond the maelstrom, an ocean of dense liquid materialised beneath them called an Ejak. It resembled melted, mouldy cheese and smelt the same. There was no sign of Orrick, so Infinity and Flobwobble had no choice but to submerge themselves in the Ejak to see if he was down there.

  Imm
ersed in the abyss, Infinity began to realise that an Ejak was more than just an aerated sea of murk. The bubbles were eyes, disappearing and reappearing ubiquitously; while the waves were multiple mouths spewing a gargling drone of self-congratulation. Not only did it babble on about its own brilliance, the Ejak also whined endlessly about how awful everyone else was. Infinity found the relentless boastful moaning deafening. It seemed to perforate her ear drums and she had to get away from it.

  In contrast, Flobwobble was revelling in the quagmire. Wearing a broad, cheesy grin, he proclaimed in jubilation; ‘This is so putrid! Let’s dive deeper.’

  Infinity however was already heading in the other direction. Hands clasped over her ears, she emerged into a steamy, sulphuric atmosphere. But there was little relief on the surface. Howlers were in full cry. The torturous wail of Howlers were akin to being locked in a car with a boot full of cicadas.

  ‘That’s odd!’ said Flobwobble who had just surfaced, ‘it’s mating season.’

  Howlers were ugly bird-like reptiles that evolved with paper bags that mercifully for both parties covered their heads while mating. When not in breeding season, the paper bags would disappear and the creatures could see each other and would scream in horror at the ugliness of the other one. The howls reverberated around the planet almost all the time except in breeding season, when the paper bags would reappear.

  Flobwobble could now see why the creatures were screaming when they shouldn’t be. Benny the robot standing near a flock of Howlers had mischievously removed their paper bags.

  Recently arrived on the Warp-worm, Benny was doing his usual duties of collecting and releasing Tele-Vacteria. There were seldom any passengers to cater for on Fuglia, so one of his little pleasures to relieve boredom was to stir up Howlers during mating season.

  Benny knew it was a silly thing to do and that everything he did was being recorded through the wonders of Tele-Vacteria. However, he was secure in the knowledge that everything everyone else did in the galaxy was also recorded. ‘People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones’ was the motto underpinning law and order in the Milky Way.