by Melanie Ray
“It’s a lot of pain for nothing, they will grow back,” Muin reminded him.
“Not without the inhibitor’s power,” Yed reminded her. “You’ll stay tail-less and look like humans.”
“You too.” Scentella urged Yed again. “You’ve got to protect them, Yed. They can’t fight, what if they end up in trouble? It’ll be up to you to get them out. We’ve already lost Ezra, Iri, Io and Zaria. Please, don’t lose the others?”
Muin, Xiam and Scentella couldn't fight. If they landed in trouble, it would be up to Yed to get them out.
Yed continued to rock his twins, knowing what he had to do. "Hand me the bag," he choked.
Yed reach into the bag Xiam brought for some paper and a writing utensil. Yed tried not to let his expression surface as he held the twins and wrote. He grabbed his Chronicle from the bag and shoved the paper in.
He tossed his Chronicle on the floor in front of Scentella. "Take care of it. When they get old enough, give it to them."
Scentella nodded and picked it up. "I'll send it with the Ancients, I promise."
Xiam reached in and pulled out his Chronicle. "You better watch out for all of them then."
Scentella nodded. "When you return you'll get them back, I promise."
Muin shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't matter. Zaria was holding ours."
Scentella nodded sadly. "I'm sure the Ancients will tell them all about you. They know you so well, especially your Grammy Fornotia."
Xiam pulled out the covetall. There was no turning back now.
Muin grabbed Cooey first and watched her squirm as spray was put on her. It was easier said than done. Scentella and Xiam helped hold her and Zaria down as the spray was shellacked all over the hair on their heads and their tails. After Muin was done she handed it to Yed. She continued to hold Cooey while Xiam held Zaria so they couldn't smear the spray.
Yed meanwhile was trying to put the covetall on Tigeravich's nose but he was wriggling like a wildcat. "Come on, Tiger, I know covetall's not pleasant but you have to put it on." Finally, the spray got placed on Tiger. He wriggled and started to cry, wanting to rub it off. Scentella came over and helped hold him as the poor baby screamed.
Yed continued to hold him as Scentella had to do Carressella by herself. It was harder but the babies couldn't be allowed to move and rub the spray off until it set.
The babies all screamed, but eventually they were dry enough they couldn't rub anything off.
Yed felt sick as he saw the colors on his twins. Their magnificent tails of red and blue, were now covered in the musky black.
What a sight.
They all helped put the infants back in the crib. With time running out and the babies now taken care of, there was nothing in the way.
Xiam was the first to jump in.
Muin looked at her babies one more time before she crawled in. "I am coming back. I am definitely coming back," she said stubbornly. "I don't care how old this hunk of junk is, it's bringing me back."
Yed was the last one to get in.
"Old models have a crank inside," Scentella warned them. "Look around, there should be a place to screw it in."
"This thing runs by a crank?" Muin said in disbelief. "Oh I don't feel so good."
Xiam found the crank on the ground though and spotted the hole. As he cranked it, the transporter started to make sounds.
"The button on the left. Put in your numbers," Scentella said. "Maybe someday we could come get you? Push the button that says travel on it and good luck." Scentella waved at them.
Xiam looked at the button. This was the last thing they had to do. After that, their fate was unknown. Who knew what would happen when they left for a planet without inhibitors?
Muin looked one more time at the crib and waved at her twins. "Mommy's coming back, I promise!"
Yed stared at his twins in the crib. Just survive and somehow I will get back to you. I swear it you too. I swear it.
With that last thought, the transporter disappeared.
Ancient Happy sat in her rocker outside as she hummed and kept a close eye on her newcomers. She had ran her own Den, but with all the devastation, there were no more young ones to watch. There was only Tigeravich and Carressella now, smiling blissfully back at her.
Ancient Fornotia would watch Muinela and Zaria's children while Ancient Happy watched Ezraponia and a Protector's child. Although a strange situation at first, as long as her great great great great granddaughter accepted him, then he must have been a good warno deep down.
When the children got older she would tell them what little she knew of their parents but until then, Ancient Fornotia would hold the Chronicles.
Waryes were clearing out. It was amazing the Ancients actually made it to the babies. Scentella had somehow been caught, most likely trying to get food, but she had somehow reached Grammy Fornotia to tell her of the new arrivals that would need help.
All in a row the babies had been crying, all alone, as the Ancients picked them up. Although too old now to be considered any kind of mother, Ancient Happy would do the best she could for the babies. She had even gone the extra measure for her little ones and shaved the hair off their tails. It wasn’t easy, adults could not get away with it, but a baby’s tail was narrow enough to appear rodent like.
"Stop!"
Ancient Happy growled at the waryes passing by her house. "Kid, I’m 2013 and too old to give a damn."
"Too old to matter," one of the waryes corrected her. He pointed to Tigeravich and Carressella. "Who are they?"
"Their parents were destroyed in that great catastrophe you barbarians caused," she said bitterly. “Dumb idiot.”
The waryes looked carefully at the babies. "Look at their tails, they are waryes."
"They are what?" The other waryes asked as they looked down. "You're right." He frowned at the Ancient. "Their parents must have been closer to waryes than warno. Grab that one." He picked up Tigeravich while the other one picked up Carressella.
"Wait!" Ancient Happy yelled, "They are no good to you, what are you doing?"
"They're waryes, we're taking them back," one of them said. "They belong in the Waryes Kingdom and not this rubble."
"You-you-you!" Grammy Happy wanted to stop them, but she was too old and they'd shoot her with ease and leave anyway.
They left, a baby in each one's arms.
Grammy Happy looked sadly at the babies being taken. Soon, their fur would grow back on their tails. What would become of them? She sat back down sadly in her rocker and rocked some more.
Tigeravich and Carressela.
The very last victims of the war that would forever be known as The Great Destruction.
PART TWO: REGAINING SANITY
Chapter 19
SPLIT PERSONALITY
Step by step. Left foot, right foot. The patient, Wye Warno, had now been let out of his room. He moved his turquoise hair out of his left eye and looked around. His brother X was at the right giving the TV an evil eye. He looked to the left to try and find his sister M-Win, but it didn’t look like she was out yet. Neither of them mattered once he spotted his favorite target. His hazel eyes lit up with a devilish passion as his left lip curled up into a smirk. He tiptoed toward his target.
Good ol’ Tar—or who everybody else called Ms. Tara Stevenson. Tar fit her better, hoo boy, you never knew what her attitude would be like that day.
“I am an alien Mr. Chasm!” Tara had shouted at Chasm, the man playing chess with her. Chasm must have been making fun of her again. “You’ll see.” Tar leaned toward Chasm; her straggly white hair jittered to and fro. “One day I shall leave Earth, and you will see. You will see.” Tar crossed her fat, buttery legs. Tar told Wye one time—well the first time they met—that she had been a model on her planet. When he asked if she’d been a Ford or a Chevy that conversation ended the friendliness of their acquaintance.
Wye slid slowly behind Tar’s chair and watched her bony finger shake at Chasm. She might be in a genero
us mood today after all.
"You can't do that, that is a knight's move." Tara insisted.
“I’m taking you out on the side, it’s a move! Bull! Don’t touch!” Chasm said standing up. He sat back down in a huff and straightened his shirt’s collar. Man, couldn’t that guy ever be happy? "It's a pawn's move, it's a pawn!"
“Total pawn,” Wye finally spoke.
“See! See, it’s a—” Chasm paused and looked at Wye. “Oh great, it’s you. Go away Troll, you fell out of fashion years ago.”
Wye clicked the top of his mouth with his tongue. Since he and his family were a bit shorter and had wild hair colors, Chasm had taken to calling them the trolling trio. Wye's fun had laid in Tar today, but Chasm deserved something for his efforts. “Hey, I thought the Irish were supposed to be nice? Oh no wait, that’s right. They drink and get in fistfights, stupid me.”
“You watch your mouth.” Chasm muttered. “You’ve got more Irish in you than me, leprechaun. You’re in your twenties, aren’t you four feet yet?”
“I beg your pardon?” Tar gasped at Chasm’s comment. “I’ll have you know that my size is quite-”
Chasm muttered something incomprehensible and gestured to Wye. “I didn’t mean you ET, I meant him.”
Wye pulled up a silver metal seat. Am I four feet yet? I’m almost four feet, and that’s fair enough. Normally, revenge would be needed against Chasm, but his sister M-Win always took care of that debt. Wye set the chair against the table backward and climbed on top of it. He pointed at Tar as if he hadn’t seen her in years, although it had just been yesterday. “Tar, hey there. Haven’t beamed back yet, huh? I'll tell you what, at this rate, I don't think they are gonna getcha.”
Tar rubbed her shoulders. “It’s Ms. Tara Stevenson, not Tar, and you shouldn’t even call me that. And you stop pointing, that is childish and rude.” She crossed her arms in that ‘I’m-almighty’ manner only she could pull off. “I have no use for you, Wye.” Her lips perked up in a soft pout, and a small giggle escaped. “Come see me when you are Yeducavich.”
Wye chuckled at Tar’s weird request as Chasm picked up their chess board and left. Striking now could ruin an opportune moment in the future, her mood wasn’t quite right yet. Being stuck in Aryu wasn't easy, so a guy had to judge when to make the most fun.
He slid off his chair from the side and stood up. The Sun shone through the grated windows giving the impression that it must have been a terrific day to be outside. The blend of orange and yellow on the walls were supposed to make patients feel warm, but it was long overdue for a paint job. It looked more like cruddy, yellow cottage cheese. Wye didn't care, why should he? He never stopped living to the fullest life gave. How could all those people out there take jobs and have love and family and all that? Life was uncomplicated, it was about having to freaking run, and to get out and scream. That’s all that mattered.
He, his brother X and his sister M-Win had been bummed out when they first got caught years ago, but they had tried the real world. They found a job and a purpose, and the first step to what others called normality. They decided that freeing captive prisoners had been a fantastic job with a purpose, so they broke into people’s houses and let out dogs and cats and birds. They even dumped the imprisoned fish out of the tanks, watching them hop around in a frenzy, apparently glad to be free.
The only thing that messed up their job was that they weren’t paid for it. It was a terrific nine-to-five gig too. From nine at night ‘til five in the morning they broke in and rescued whatever they could manage to grab. People kept complaining and screaming, threatening to call the police for some odd reason. Whatever they could do to avoid paying for services. Important fact was, it sucked. Normality wasn’t for his family. X and him even tried the whole ‘family thing’ approach to get normality, but none of the strippers at any clubs wanted anything to do with them without money. With only a job that made no money, it didn’t work. Yeah, living out that real life crap bit the big one. Institutions were way better. They got to eat without scrounging around in garbage cans, and they had the chance to play without going to jail. Most of all, when reality changed for them, they had a safe place to come back to. There was never any real worry, no matter where their minds took them, they always came back. Best of all, if they pissed someone off too much, there was a guard to keep them from getting killed by others or each other.
Wye skipped in delight down the musky green floor and whistled a merry tune while looking around nonchalantly. The place was relatively mundane and quiet. Aryu Institution provided entertainment, but not much. There were a couple Tvs, but the buttons were blocked off in front, and they were drilled into the corners. Most of the furniture was downright uncomfortable and people often used chairs or lounges instead. The place was supposed to get more soon, but the term ‘bad economy’ had been used more than once as an excuse. There were a couple of ping pong tables and board games, but when it came to real fun, Wye had to make his own.
Which was why he careened down the floor as a skating rink in his blue slippers. He felt the ice beneath his feet and the roar of a crowd as he did crossovers against the ice. With the wind rushing through his hair, Wye ran forward, faster, and the crowds cheered as he spun around with his blue and green robe whirling around as he went.
“Wye!”
Wye stopped as he heard the guard. “What?” He tried to act innocent as he rubbed his head and the guard scolded him about the dangers of something or other, he wasn’t listening much. He nodded his head during every pause. It was too early to get 'da needle’ or to go to the padded room again, so he tried to be courteous. Finally, he watched the guard leave.
Always ruining the fun. He could have made an axel jump. Wye went a few more feet toward his brother, X, who had been gazing at one of the television sets. X was wearing a bulky red pullover shirt over a provided hospital gown. Looked like the place had been slipping in its laundry duties again.
“This sucks, what else is on?” Wye glanced at the TV, then at X, then back at the TV.
X tried to jump up to touch the TV, but even if he had been five feet he couldn’t have reached it. His violet hair bopped up and down in his face, his determination stronger than his grasp on reality. “I don’t want to watch this.” He marched over to a nurse’s station and knocked on the glass door. “That show is horrible; I want to watch something else!”
“Someone requested the program, the TV will not be changed.” The nurse insisted.
“I don’t want to watch it,” X slumped his shoulders forward and walked over toward Wye again. "I don't wanna watch it, Wye, I don't wanna watch it." Wye watched a generic beer commercial go off and a cooking show come back on. He went ahead and sat down in one of the old greenish Yellow couches nearby. “I hate cooking shows. I hate cooking shows!” X went over to the couch with Wye and sat down. He watched a chef chatting with the audience in a one-on-one manner as she made a typical down home cookin' meal: homemade mashed potatoes with a chicken fried steak and gravy. “I could do better.”
Wye laughed, “Who would let you near a fire to cook? Even I know better than that,” he said after he shoved him playfully and stood back up. TV would suck today, and he was in no mood for ping pong. Maybe Tar was in the right mood now? He caught a glimpse of Tar not too far away bugging Chasm who was attempting to play chess again with someone else. He knew Chasm, he never gave up in the middle of a game for long. Wye patted his brother on the back once, signaling he was leaving.
X GAVE A QUICK NOD as he watched his brother leave, and then focused his attention back on the television set. He watched as the chef, who didn’t even bother wearing an apron, cut up the chicken slices inefficiently. He felt a swelling surge on the inside as he watched the abuse of the potatoes as the chattering blonde continued to rattle on about subjects not even dealing with the art of cooking. Who cares if this broad’s kid scored a home run, look what she’s doing to the potatoes. It’s called a whisk, get it out and whisk. Those aren’t going
to be creamy at all. He heard the cliché words of the blonde on the TV as he watched her brutally smash the potatoes with a masher:
“Now this chicken fried steak, made with real chicken, is always a hit at our house.”
Always a hit at our house? She’s horrible. This is horrible, why is she moving so fast? Those potatoes aren’t even soft enough, and she’s moving on to the second course. Why can’t she even talk about the damn cooking, not how fast and easy it is to cook. She should be arrested for murdering food! He felt his breathing pick up as a fleeting vision passed his head. It was fast, like a subliminal message snuck into a movie. A memory of an old sign swaying in the breeze. It had something on it, but he couldn’t make out the writing. The thought had made no sense, but it awakened something inside.
Xiam crossed his leg on top of the other, leaned back in the chair and watched TV. He chuckled, what a funny alien this female was. Too bad she can’t show off her true cooking skills, it’s all about speed. He stood up and walked over to the nurse’s station. He calmly knocked on the glass. “Hello?”
The nurse just stared at X. “Yes, X?”
“It’s Xiam,” he said and gestured to the TV behind him. “Sorry to intrude, but I don’t believe the one who wished to watch this particular channel is even here. If it’s not much to ask, may someone change it?”
The nurse said, “the request was made, it can be changed afterward, Xiam.”
“Huh?” X was confused. “Xiam?”
“I am not changing the channel. It was requested.” The nurse repeated.
“Changing the channel?” X said as he looked at the nurse. “Yeah, change the channel. That show is awful, no one is watching it.”
“I’ve already told you twice.” The nurse repeated, her voice sounded harsh and irritated. “The show will continue its duration.” She walked away from the glass, ending the conversation.
Chasm was playing with Toby, one of the other guys in the ward. Wye grinned wide like a mad cat by the chessboard, not bothering to sit down. His focus was all on Tar. He jerked his head to the right and beamed at her. “Tar, how much does a ticket cost to your planet?”