by Jack Challis
Blodwyn took several tentative bites from the leg passed to her, but not before checking for blue sticky stuff. She then shoved it into the Cilla’s gaping mouth – nearly choking him, and giggled. (A favourite trick of Grunwalde).
The Cilla took it in good humor and managed to swallow the whole leg, his eyes bulging. Time for some outrageous behaviour: typical of Grunwalde. Lifting her bare painted foot onto the table, she says to the Cilla. ‘Don’t you think my toes are the longest and prettiest toes you have ever seen?’ ‘Delightful,’ answers the Cilla, ‘now if only they were webbed and green!’ Then Blodwyn got a most pleasant surprise. A handsome youth appeared in the seat of the Shi-Larriss! This was the exact image of a dark eyed handsome boy she had once glimpsed; while picking flowers in a wild meadow. Their eyes met: smiles were exchanged; he then disappeared into the dappled shade! ‘Will you marry me?’ Blodwyn asked the image of the dark handsome boy. ‘And do you have lots of money? Answer the second question first.’
The Cilla roared with laughter; the image of the youth disappeared, an illusion created by the Shi-Larriss. Were these illusions an attempt to please her – or test her: Blodwyn wondered?
‘Of course,’ announces Karak standing up, ‘we will give the Queen Angharad concessions – when the Malis Afar return to Earth – to which we have a right.’
‘We agree to the Malis’s Afars return to Earth,’ says the sly Jal mar, Earth is only suitable for a particular species only for a particular time – the Terasil’s time is at an end – they have been protected for too long by the Alter Dom
‘I hope the concessions are fair?’ the large aquatic alien Cilla shouts.
Before Karak could answer, Blodwyn pipes up. ‘All of Wales, in fact the whole of the British Isles – and Europe! A twenty-mile limit of sea measured from high tide, around Britain. And no fishing in those waters you naughty boy,’ Blodwyn says to the Cilla, tapping him on his large frog-like head.
‘Are you sure that’s all you want your Majesty,’ comments Karak sarcastically, ‘what about North America?’
‘Take it,’ the Cilla urges, ‘the seafood there is excellent.’
‘No,’ replies Blodwyn, ‘I am content.’
‘The Malis Afar,’ says Karak ‘will occupy two of the hottest regions on Earth, the Sahara and Sarhell. The Na Idriss will return to the plains of Africa. The rest of Earth except the two southern and northern Ice caps which the Galid-Ice-e-Kia wish to occupy. The rest is open to license.’
‘What!’ exclaims the sly Jal Mar, ‘those Galid-Ice-e-Kia; anti-freeze blooded krill-eaters will try to return Earth to another Ice Age.’
‘Earths Ice caps have only a life-span of only twenty years before they melt,’ answers the Cold-Blood.
‘All the more water for us Aquatics to fish in,’ says the Cilla fish-head. ‘Gentlemen,’ continues Karak, ‘the seventy five thousand year window, ideal for the Terasils on Earth, is about to close – a massive eruption is now overdue – Terasils will not survive. This fact also justifies our return to Earth… Terasils will soon be extinct!’
‘I speak for all the aquatic races of the third Quadrant: the Selles-Wels, the Slimy-Slidds and the Naarish,’ says the Cilla. ‘We collectively wish to buy the sole rights, to take fish from all the major oceans: and to crop the giant mussel beds in the abysmal depths of the Mariana Trench. We are not interested in buying Terasils,’ continues the Cilla, ‘their skins wrinkle working in water – they complain and eat too much and have disgusting wind!’
The other aliens then declared their interests regarding Earth. ‘I think Her Majesty asks for too much land!’ the sly Jal Mar says.
‘We do not agree,’ says the Cilla, standing up – he is soon joined by the Shi-Larriss and Semmi Tal. All eyes were now on the Jinnd. The sparkling light rose. The evil looking Jal Mar glared at the standing aliens.
Karak looked uncomfortable; he had no intention of granting the Queen of Lings anything!
‘The Semmi Tal wishes the rights to mine Zircon and Tellium, vital to our arms industry – we will need a million Terasil slaves!’
‘Agreed – we can discuss terms later,’ answers Karak.
‘I speak only for the Indra,’ says the Mandrill-faced dandy, ‘we need all the silver mines, plus a large Terasil workforce.’
Blodwyn listened sadly as Earth and its inhabitants were being divided up.
‘And what will the Shi-Larriss and the Jinnd want?’ Karak asks.
‘We seek nothing from Earth – we are content. Besides, the Alter Dom could return – remember what he did to the Sann-Nabeed – the mud-swimmers, from Cygnus Major – when they challenged his authority!’
‘This time is different,’ argues Karak, ‘the Alter Dom entered an Event Horizon of a feeding black hole – there is no return – if he is not dead, he will be lost a billion galaxies away!’ Some aliens nodded in agreement. ‘We will need a billion Terasils,’ says the sly Jal Mar, ‘for our complex on Sirus four.’
‘Come gentlemen,’ coaxes Karak, ‘we can discuss those points after we have won the battle – there will be plenty of Terasils to go round – they breed like Tarrisean mice. My next point,’ continues the Malis-Afar, ‘is: who will join us against the Galla Qualls and the Ida Jaade?’
‘We are not as brave as the Malis Afar, to challenge the Galla Qualls,’ says the Semmi Tal.
‘There will never be a better time!’ the Cold-blood answers.
‘Or a worst time!’ the Jal Mar retorts.
‘Explain!’ the Cold-blood demands.
‘The Galla Qualls are building a new War Hawk battleship they call the Poseidon; in the depths of their lake, that is capable of travelling at warp seventeen.’ There is a groan of surprise, from the other aliens.
‘Come to the point!’ snaps Karak.
‘Warp sixteen is the speed of time!’ continues the evil looking Jal Mar. ‘The speed of time – is a hundred times faster than the speed of light.’
‘Time is indeed the ultimate speed,’ confirms the Shi-Larriss, ‘travelling at warp seventeen will make the Galla Qualls time lords!’
‘Supposition,’ answers Karak, ‘the Jinnd are time lords – so what?’ ‘That is true,’ replies the Shi-Larriss, ‘but the Jinnd do not go back in time; in a battleship, armed with Hydra-Nytron torpedoes and Orion cannons.’
The shocked Dandy-Indra responds. ‘The Galla Qualls have it in their power to change the course of present history – by going back into the past! We Indra once intended to join forces with the Malis Afar – the Ida Jaade are our traditional enemies. But now we must reconsider. Just one Hydra Nytron torpedo could wipe out our distant ancestors – and the Dandy-Indra would not exist today!’
The fat Cilla speaks next. ‘We have no quarrel with the Galla Qualls, and the Ida Jaade – we are both gill and filter breathing aquatic species. But we accept that power changes are inevitable, the Malis Afar has to win the war first – prove their superiority!’
‘Only then,’ says the Jal Mar, ‘will we help the Cold-Bloods fight the new species from Stellar space, such as the Serpentils, Yarbies and the Jed- Bela.’
‘And what opinion do the Jinnd have?’ Karak asks the Shi-Larriss.
‘The Jinnd left – some time ago!’ ‘Impossible,’ argues the Cold-blood Karak, ‘all the security doors are closed – our scanners showed nothing!’
‘The Jinnd was never here in body, only in spirit – the Jinnd will not help you in your war!’
‘Gentlemen,’ Karak concludes, ‘we the Malis Afar are confident we will not lose the coming battle. But hear this – we will not forget treachery!’
After the banquet Karak was pleased with Blodwyn’s performance. ‘I am glad that you are not the real Queen of Lings,’ Karak tells Blodwyn, ‘you drove a hard bargain.’ “Praise indeed from a Cold-blood.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
False Arcadia and Quilla Prime
Does heaven dwell somewhere in Quilla Prime?
And hell’s fire burns etern
al in Golgin Hade?
Do tormented Taarbs suffer for infinite time?
For grievous sins already made.
The following morning Blodwyn is on the bridge, aboard the captured Galla Quall armed frigate with the sabotage party, who plan to poison the lakes on Quilla Prime – killing the aquatic Galla Qualls and Ida Jaade who live in its dark depths. She made a point of memorizing the Latin codes, and take-off and landing procedures – flying the craft looked simple. She was beginning to enjoy space travel – if only circumstances were different!
‘Now hear this!’ announces commander Karak. ‘Our combined battle-fleet are massing somewhere in the Vega Triangle under cloak – the main Galla Quall war-fleet are still far away in the Alpha Centuri sector. Before our fleet can attack Quilla Prime, we have to dispose of the Galla Quall’s home fleet of seven Typhon War Hawks – deep in the lake. This will be simple – the poison will kill the Qualls first. Without Galla Quall leadership, the War Hawks battleships will be easily shot down and the resistance of the Ida Jaade on the two satellite planets guarding Quilla Prime and the lake, will collapse quickly.’ Karak holds up two phials. ‘These neurotoxins, from the Jal Mar are deadly to the gill, and filter-breathing Qualls and Ida Jaade. One phial in the lake is enough! We will reach the lake through False Arcadia.’ Captain Timasek jumps up and protests. ‘That’s the easy part Sir – first we have to get past the two armed satellite planets, manned by the Ida Jaade – they have banks of Orion cannon – and Nytron torpedoes!’
‘Bring me the two Semmi Tal,’ orders Karak. Blodwyn felt sorry for the two stick-like Semmi Tal, they looked so weak and helpless. Their large luminous eyes blinked nervously beneath their hoods.
‘You Semmi Tal are Shape-shifters. I want you to impersonate two Ida Jaade warriors – one a Centurion.’
Blodwyn moved closer – she had never seen Shape-shifters at work before. The two Semmi Tal concentrated and began to change shape! What started as two, thin, timid looking aliens then became a blur of moving shades of different colours; ending as two fierce, muscular Ida Jaade.
Karak cast a critical eye over them. ‘A crest – where’s the red crest?’
Crests appeared on the tops of the two Ida Jaades’ heads. ‘Raise them,’ orders Karak. The crests sprung upright. ‘Good – now dress them appropriately.’ Blodwyn watched intently as the two warriors were dressed as Roman soldiers. ‘Now salute,’ orders Karak. The two Shape-shifters lifted their hands in Roman salute. ‘No, fools,’ snaps Karak, ‘salute with your swords.’ The two Shape-shifters drew their swords; but the weapons were too heavy for their weak arms.
‘We may be Ida Jaade in appearance – but we are still weak Semmi Tal,’ one pleads! ‘We are not true Changelings but only Shape-shifters.’
‘Saluting with the sword is an important etiquette with the Ida Jaade,’ continues Karak, ‘any suggestions?’
‘Yes,’ pipes up Blodwyn. ‘A Centurion need not salute an Ida Jaade legionnaire with a sword – but visa versa. And secondly – let me carry the spare phial of poison!’ Karak’s cold light gray, eyes felt like they were looking straight into Blodwyn’s mind – searching for treachery!
‘I mean,’ explains Blodwyn in her most matter of fact and honest voice, ‘you may be involved in fighting and both the delicate phials could be broken – let me carry the spare – it will be much safer with me?’
‘She’s right Sir,’ says Captain Timasek the Na Idriss, ‘the Galla Qualls or the Ida Jaade would not harm a female Terasil.’ The Malis Afar Karak, reluctantly hands one of the phials from his belt to Blodwyn. ‘Guard it well,’ he orders. ‘Sir, we are coming into hailing distance of the Ida Jaade satellite planet, guarding Quilla Prime,’ Lt Sangar the Na Idriss reports.
‘Stand by,’ orders Karak, ‘open communication channels.’ The Semmi Tal posing as the Centurion, speak after receiving a sharp jab from Karak’s sword. ‘Centurion Marcus – escorting the Creator Sebus – back from patrol – of the Delphinus sector.’
An Ida Jaade warrior appears on screen and studies the two images.
‘Where is the Creator Sebus?’
‘In the re-hydration chamber,’ answers the Semmi Tal: posing as an Ida Jaade Centurion. ‘Pass centurion Marcus – hail creator Sebus,’ the Ida Jaade salutes with his Gladius. Karak smiles, ‘now destroy all Galla Quall communication channels and switch to Malis Afar code signals.’
Blodwyn looks out of a porthole. From above, False Arcadia looked like a patchwork of different colours and shades of green: a rustic paradise. “But why was it called False Arcadia?” The captured Galla Quall frigate lands in a wooded glade. Leaving Lt Sangar and a Na Idriss warrior behind to guard the captured frigate, with orders not to leave the vessel, the sabotage party set out for the placid lake in which the Galla Qualls and Ida Jaade dwell. At the bottom of the lake lay the Galla Quall home war-fleet of seven Typhon War Hawks.
The lake was situated on the other side of False Arcadia. Karak is in the lead followed by the two Semmi Tal; still disguised as Ida Jaade warriors. Blodwyn follows behind six Na Idriss. They move through the beautiful country of False Arcadia. Fruiting trees abounded; some exotic, others familiar; cherries, plums – vines grew everywhere, festooned with heavy bunches of dark cascading grapes. Game abounded. Antelope, partridge, quail; birds of paradise displayed and a host of multicoloured birds flittered and sang in a canopy chorus.
Beautiful butterflies floated on the warm flower scented air. Small neat pretty hobbit-like villages and livestock could be seen in the distance. The hungry Na Idriss licked their thin lips at the sight of so much red meat: on hoof and wing! Blodwyn caught a glimpse of a pale creature shyly watching her from a low cloud. “Is this the paradise Grunwalde talked about?” This fragile place would soon disappear under the cruel hands of the cold-blooded Malis Afar and the feline Na Idriss. Blodwyn had to think quickly if she was to stop this catastrophe! But what should she do? She would have to work on it: “Given enough thought any problem can be solved.”
The sabotage group stealthily approached a green leafy glade through which ran a gin-clear, pebbled stream! Flaxen haired and dark maidens frolicked; picking wild flowers and bathing. Their laughter and song penetrated the blooming woodland. “Were these the Angles, Saxons and other races plucked from earth by the inquisitive Galla Quall centuries ago; or were they Star children – Angels?”
Karak studied the females coldly: his thoughts a mystery. The Na Idriss sniffed at them longingly. Blodwyn could imagine them salivating at the thought of tender hairless Terasil flesh; and God only knows what else!
Unseen, the sabotage party moves on. Blodwyn starts to hang back a little; a plan had formed. She needed some kind of berry juice; dark purple, the same colour as the poison, to use as a harmless substitute. The group stops again. The sound of many hooves disturbs the tranquil scene.
‘Bolladocks!’ swears Karak… ‘Goats, but I see no shepherd!’ A large herd of goats passes by. ‘My men need red meat commander,’ Captain Timasek complains. ‘Patience Timasek,’ replies Karak, ‘your men can feast soon; you know how lethargic your species become – with full stomachs.’
Blodwyn studies the goats as they pass by. In the middle of the flock, she noticed a large strange looking goat; it seemed much taller than the rest: but was hiding this fact by stooping. Its eyes glinted - was she mistaken; did that goat actually wink at her – surely not?
This was the chance Blodwyn had been waiting for. She recognized a mulberry bush, heavy with purple fruit – just what she needed. Blodwyn had found a solution! She would empty the phial of poison and replace it with harmless mulberry juice. Blodwyn stopped, and started to eat some mulberries – they were delicious. Squatting to pick a large mulberry, Blodwyn spotted what looked like the hind legs of a large he-goat on the other side of the bush; a glinting eye winked again! Blodwyn slowly rose to her feet. She noticed curly goat hairs ended at the being’s waist and there began the olive muscular torso of a man. She met the creature’s eyes.
It winked at her again and smiled. A heavy smell of Billy goat assailed Blodwyn’s keen nostrils – she caught a glimpse of horns – a Goat-Man!
‘Well rip my reed – a fair maiden,’ exclaims the goat man. ‘Would you care to share my jug – and a jape.’ A hand passed a jug through the bush.
“An amorous Goat Man is all I need,” she thought. Blodwyn recognized the creature to be Pan. She knew of his nature and deeds; however, she must enlist his help. Declining the jug, Blodwyn handed her phial of poison to the Goat-Man. ‘Please empty this and fill it with your wine.’ ‘Empty it – I will indeed,’ says the Goat-Man, ‘with pleasure,’ placing the phial to his lips.
‘No!’ Hisses Blodwyn, ‘its poison! The aliens ahead wish to destroy Quilla Prime and False Arcadia by poisoning the lake of the Galla Qualls.’ Pan looked puzzled. ‘No lakes – no Galla Qualls – no False Arcadia,’ continues Blodwyn, spelling it out to the inebriated Goat-Man.
‘Well rip my reed!’ exclaims the Goat-Man Pan, who then empties the glass phial of poison and fills it with wine – then returns the phial to Blodwyn.
‘Well this means war,’ he says swigging from his jug; ‘I must find my companions – a Centaur and two Satyrs.’
Pan the Goat-Man, pointed ahead and says, ‘I will attack from atop that hill.’
‘Wait,’ says Blodwyn, ‘be careful – the Malis Afar and the Na Idriss are ruthless. The single Malis Afar Karak carries another phial of poison on his belt – it must also be destroyed.’
A Na Idriss warrior notices Blodwyn. ‘Stop talking to that bush, female – and close rank – have you gone mad!’ he growls.
‘Slip away – meet me back at that spinney,’ the Goat-Man whispers.
The group continues. ‘Look,’ says one of the Na Idriss warriors pointing, ‘a Goat-Man on the hillock.’ The group stops and studies Pan.
‘False Arcadia,’ says Karak, ‘is full of strange creatures collected from the past, by the Galla Qualls – they are harmless ancients.’