by Mike DiCerto
"What happened?” Angie asked, her voice stiff with concern.
"Humprorians are renowned for their need for physical contact, whether it be the act of love or murder. His bride's lack of form wore heavily on his natural desires."
"How sad."
"Yes. I have learned through my travels that romance can be both tragic and wondrous. Mostly tragic."
"Tell me, Poe...” Angie lowered her voice. “...what do you think of Caffrey?"
"Are you asking if I hold any romantic feelings for Quark Caffrey?"
Angie chuckled. “No."
"Because in some ways I do. I feel drawn to him. It may very well be in my programming. He is rather nifty."
"I agree. Thank you, Poe. I appreciate your help."
"If I may, Angie...” Poe 33 spoke softly. “One day, when I convey your tale to others, the adjective beautiful will be very appropriate in describing you."
"Thanks,” Angie sighed with a hint of auditory blush, “I think your voice is quite handsome as well."
"It's not really my voice. I sampled it from a wonderful Earth radio storyteller named..."
"Goodnight, Poe,” Angie interrupted, with a longer, deeper sigh.
* * * *
The western hemisphere of Regal 9 was illuminated in the brilliant daylight of its mother star. The Moby Dick sat like a cherry in a gelatin mold. Yin was up and checking the coordinates, trying to manipulate the extra limbs granted him by Lindboola. Poe 33 sat where he had been through the entire trip.
Angie crackled her voice. “We are within communications distance of Regal 9, my Captain Jack of stars."
"Very good, my girl. When you can, please set up a visual link with Queen Kinkskin or whatever entourage does her dirty deeds for her."
"Aye-aye."
"And music. I need some music."
AC/DC's “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” began.
"Obvious, but good choice,” Caffrey approved, stepping up to the controls, “'Morning, snake arms. Good morning, snake dog."
"'Morning,” Yin snapped. “I hate these damn legs."
"You look terrific. And with my little forked-tongued surprise we're going to make quite an impression on our inbred little tripe.” Caffrey's nose twitched, as if a waft of perfume had passed his nose, “Do you smell that?"
It's me, Caffrey, said a voice in his head.
"Smell what?” asked Yin.
"I don't know."
It's me, Caffrey, the voice said again. They cannot hear me via their noses. Nor can they smell me via their eyes. I am addressing you and you alone.
Caffrey's face went pale.
"I'm not sure if...” He spoke aloud but was interrupted by the olfactory voice of the Great One.
Do not reply verbally.
"You're not sure of what?” a confused Angie asked.
"Nothing, Angie."
Communicate via scent, the Great One instructed.
Caffrey had never communicated with scent and wasn't sure what to do. He toyed with the idea of ripping a good fart but figured that might offend such a wise being.
"Maybe a clue?” he said softly.
Control the words in your mind and release them through the scent memories you have stored, the Wise One explained.
"Are you okay, my master?” Yin asked, baffled at Quark's behavior.
"I'm fine, Yin.” Caffrey waved off the Bopple and closed his eyes. He knew what he wanted to ask. He had the words lined up in his mind's eye like polite school children. Where can I find my friends? The trick was in the peculiar translation. Words to scents. His brow tightened as he pondered a solution, cursing under his breath for a frigging simple answer.
Take it a word at a time, prodded the L'Orange.
Where. Werewolf. Dog. Wet dog. The scent of wet dog filled Caffrey's mind.
Good, the Wise One encouraged. Continue.
Can. Beer. Okay. I. Eye. Eyesnot. Find. Jelly beans under the loveseat pillow. My. Malaysian food—admittedly a stretch—Friends. Humbolt County Skunk.
There, he thought with a certain satisfaction.
So, the Wise One surmised, you would like to know, after you pick your eyeball and clean your sofa, where you can find good Asian food, a beer and some high-grade weed?
Caffrey slammed his foot down. He heard a definite chuckle.
Just kidding, the L'Orange snickered. Here...
The scent of violet, cigar smoke and paraffin came to Caffrey's nose, and somehow his brain interpreted it.
Your friends are not there, Caffrey. But your visiting of Queen Kinkskin will keep you on the road to your destiny. Or it might get you killed.
Caffrey closed his eyes and formed his response. Thoughts of the essence of shoe polish, cockroaches and chamomile sprouted in his head.
Very good, Caffrey, the Great L'Orange replied, understanding the response, I cannot tell of the events. Just continue trusting your instincts. Goodbye, Caffrey. I'll put the essence of a bookmark in this conversation. Later.
"Caffrey? Quark-keee!” Yin was shouting, inches from Caffrey's face. Finally, Caffrey snapped from his daze.
"What?"
"You were tripping again."
Angie reentered the conversation. “Love serpent, I have the First General of the First Order of the First Knights of Queen Kinkskin on the horn."
"Fine."
Caffrey turned to face the com-screen, flickering and flashing at him. A large, ruddy face stared back. Angie thoughtfully superimposed the general's name on the screen: General Yooqert Stanglift. An annoyed grimace peered out from behind the thick bear-ass of a beard.
"Greetings, Sir Stanglift,” Caffrey articulated with a forced bow.
"It is not ‘Sir!’ I am to be referred to either as ‘General Yooqert Stanglift’ or, more preferably, ‘His One of the Bloodstained Fist.’”
"Absolutely, Your Honor."
"Identify yourself, your crew and your purpose for rudely disturbing my day!"
"I am Ringo Jagger, a Serpentine from Vanchilli 7. I am traveling with Ozzie, my second cousin, who is dying from a rare scale disease and has wanted nothing but to see the grand gardens of Regal 9, lauded in many a song and tale. I also have with me my inter-cosmic sexual expert, the Cobradroid, Hendrix 2. His vast knowledge of Serpent-humanoid love has served me well."
The general seemed to blush and cleared the lump in his throat.
"Suppose the queen'll like that,” he mumbled. The general fumbled with his words a moment then stood up in a huff. “Hold on a second,” he tossed over his shoulder, walking off.
After a moment, he returned.
"Queen Kinkskin will have you.” Then he quickly qualified, “As her guests. Land your craft at coordinates 32.7 degrees west and 19.48 degrees north. Docking pad number two."
"Very good, Sir Blood Fist.” Caffrey bowed again.
"And if you so much as ruffle a leaf of one of the basingee nut trees you will be drawn, quartered and sent on your way in four separate ships."
The Moby Dick streaked downward into the thick Regal 9 atmosphere, causing a glow of ionizing gasses to surround the craft. It would take twenty minutes for the ship to reach the designated target and come to a gentle landing on pad two of the castle of Queen Kinkskin.
* * * *
"Beautiful landing,” Angie complimented.
"And not a bruised basingee nut leaf to be found,” Caffrey bragged.
General Stanglift poked his face onto the com-view.
"You will meet the queen in her Royal Majesty's Garden Courtyard. Take the red cobblestone path through the quincyberry trees and sit beside the Fountain of Dimenatries,” he ordered.
Caffrey nodded and turned off the communication center.
"Yin, I want you and Poe to get to work immediately on finding out the whos, whats, wheres and whens of the chip-scrambler debacle. Angie, use your vast repertoire of charms on whatever systems they may have installed. I'll work on the queen. Okay, all?"
"Fine,” Angie agreed with a s
pike of jealousy in her voice. “But I'll be watching you work."
Caffrey smiled and opened the port to experience a wash of warm, humid air.
"And remember, we've dreamed of this visit our entire destitute lives.” He conjured up a few tears of joy as he spoke.
The party descended the ship's ramp. The red cobblestone path awaited them at the foot of the staircase down from the landing platforms. Winding like an asp, it led them on an amiable walk through lovely scented yamus and the tall and twisted twincyberry orchard. The songs of various flying creatures added harmony to a wind whistling its own tune. Soon, the distinct sound of gently splashing water was heard as the party stepped into a clearing. A large ornate fountain was the centerpiece in an octagonal courtyard. The rather homely Dimenatries, rendered in bronze, stood above the dancing water in a rather compromising position with a selection of whips, three small dog-like creatures and a large, rubber-suited dragon.
Caffrey took a seat on one of the two wooden benches and was soon joined by Yin. Poe 33 stood beside the fountain trying desperately to understand the meaning of the statue.
"Does any of this recall any memories, Poe?” Caffrey asked.
"With each splish and splash of the water in this fountain I get a brief but distinct memory flash of smiling moons,” Poe 33 mused, with a certain enigmatic lilt to his voice.
"Smiling moons?"
"I know it sounds odd. But I cannot stop the memories from appearing on my neuro-visual matrix. A moon, behind a liquid sky. Smiling with angry eyes."
Caffrey and Yin exchanged curious glances. The voice of General Stanglift accompanied his heavy footsteps into the courtyard.
"Welcome, guests of Queen Kinkskin."
Caffrey and Yin jumped to their feet as the general entered. He was shorter than Caffrey was expecting but quite stocky, and an imposing figure just the same. He studied each visitor curiously a moment then nodded.
"Please rise,” the general commanded just before he realized all were already risen. “I present to you her Royal Majesty, Queen Pettikorn Kinkskin!"
The general bowed low and backed out of the courtyard. A moment later, a tall, robust woman entered. She wore an emerald gown that looked like jeweled snakeskin. Her face was pale and was contrasted by a mop of black hair. A slithering mass of redback Gad asps hissed from her black leather crown. Her mouth held a gentle smile filled with calm, but her eyes were wide and seemed to reflect a constant state of shock. She smiled at each of her faux reptilian guests.
Caffrey stepped forward and bowed.
"It is our honor. I am Ringo Jagger. This is my favorite albeit soon-to-be deceased cousin Ozzie."
Yin bowed with a pathetic whimper.
"And this is Hendrix 2, my friend and inter-cosmic sexual advisor. A poet and master of all the joys of Human-Serpentine relations. He has taught me and my Monty well."
The queen coughed, and a tiny drip of drool slipped from her lips. She nodded, her eyes never leaving the slithering bulge beneath Caffrey's pants.
"I am honored to have you as my guests,” she oozed, with a wet, raspy voice. “I understand it has been your lifelong dream to visit my kingdom?"
"Regal 9 is a joy to behold,” Yin offered. “I have dreamed of scampering across your fields and romping through your orchards."
"You may,” the queen agreed. “You may even tinkle upon my trees, should the need arise. It would be my pleasure to grant you that freedom."
Yin bowed.
"And you, Hendrix 2? Where did you acquire your vast knowledge of...” She cleared the lump from her throat and closed her eyes. “...serpentine-humanoid love?"
"I traveled extensively across the vast nations of Vanchilli 7,” Poe 33 explained with a new voice that hissed just enough to imply a snake-like charm. “I spent several years studying with all of the masters. I was acquired by Ringo Jagger three years ago and have passed on all of my knowledge. He is a quick learner and has developed numerous techniques that have astounded, nay, shocked even myself."
Poe 33 was a heck of a good liar.
"I see.” The queen smiled. “May I give you a tour of my gardens? My castle?"
"We would be honored,” Caffrey said, adjusting the slithering cobra that seemed to want to escape from his pant leg prison.
The queen's gaze locked on the rippling bulge. Caffrey noted her absorption and felt obliged to explain.
"It's Monty. My trouser snake. Like aphids and ants, egrets and black rhinos, remoras and sharks, Vanchillian Serpentines and trouser snakes live in perfect harmony. A symbiosis of mutual need. A perfect balance of give and take. May I whip him out so you can meet him?"
"In a moment, perhaps,” was her meek reply. She looked as if she was about to explode. She turned towards the castle. “General! General!” she cried.
General Stanglift rushed back into the courtyard and came to stiff attention before the queen.
"Please,” she instructed, swallowing, “take Ozzie and this good android on a private tour of the castle. I'll wander the garden with Mr. Jagger and Monty. Is that okay with the two of you?” She turned to Poe and Yin.
Poe 33 nodded affirmatively as Yin looked up pathetically.
"I would be honored. Would it be possible to plead for some moisture to wet my parched throat? A small lick of some window condensation will more than generously suit my needs,” he whined in his most pitiful voice.
"Nonsense! You will feast on my finest delicacies!” the queen admonished, pointing to the general to hasten his exit.
"If I may,” interrupted Poe 33, “I am feeling a bit low on charge. Is there a technical area in the castle where I might partake of some electrical current?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!” The queen waved them off impatiently.
"Will you be okay, Your Highness?” the general asked with concern.
"Yes! Now, dammit, leave me alone!"
"Yes. Of course.” General Stanglift nodded, bowed, genuflected for some reason known only to himself and led Yin and Poe 33 into the castle through the rear garden entrance.
"Now,” gasped the queen, “come with me. The both of you."
Caffrey adjusted Monty and followed her down the garden path.
* * * *
The ghostly Angie glided down a long stone passage on the third story of the castle of Queen Kinkskin. She searched for any source of energy that had the signature of intelligence. Oddly, her sensors were going haywire, as if she were amidst a mob of sentient devices.
"Hello?” she called softly in three of the most popular appliance languages used in the Plethorian Sector.
There was no reply, but she felt certain she was being watched. Traced. She ascended a spiraling staircase that wound its way up the southwest tower of the castle.
* * * *
Caffrey strutted through the orchard of ancient-looking trees that were loaded with bright purple fruit. Queen Kinkskin strolled beside him, eyeing him with a famished gaze.
"These are very pretty trees. Fulini apples?"
"Technically, these are not trees,” she corrected, to Caffrey's surprise. He stopped and examined one more closely.
"What are they?"
"This is the pinnacle of Regal Novinian technology. They are Fulini apple factories."
"Factories?” He wondered.
"The evolution of technology begins with nature and ends with nature. Everything in the middle is just a noisy, smelly waste of time. Billions of glid were spent perfecting this technology. They are engineered from organic materials. Their genetic code was scripted by our greatest minds. The fruit is produced as if they were real trees. In fact, it would take one of the aforementioned great minds to differentiate one of these from a real tree."
"Why not simply spend a couple of glid on some seed and plant the real thing?” Caffrey posed an unfortunate choice of question.
"Because, you idiot!” the queen exploded, “This costs billions! It's better! It was created by us, not some arrogant and ethereal divine oaf! The same g
oes for every bush. Every blade of grass. Every creature that swims, crawls or flies on Regal 9. All the results of engineering miracles!"
"I see.” Caffrey nodded. “These greatest minds you mentioned—where are they?"
"Why?"
"I would be honored to meet such wise and imaginative folk."
"You honor too easily! You were honored to meet Stanglift. Honored to meet me. Honored to see my gardens..."
Caffrey eyed the queen disingenuously. “Everything is simply so honorable on Regal 9. I am honored to be here, your honorableness."
A stiff expression of anger was quickly lubricated by a smile.
"You are sweet, Ringo. But never mind the wise ones. They are gone."
"Vacation? Religious retreat, perhaps?"
"Perhaps,” teased Queen Kinkskin as she slipped her hand up Caffrey's thigh. “I must thank you for agreeing to spend your valuable time with a simple Serpentine as myself.” Her hand was smooth, white and supple. “You have a curious charm. A charm I find quite alluring,” she said, casually petting Monty.
"Thank you,” Caffrey said, forcing a blush and letting Monty wriggle enough to further torture the queen's insanity.
Shuddering slightly, she asked, “Would you like to see a very special, secret part of my garden?"
"I hardly seem important enough to be privy to royal secrets."
"That is for me and me alone to decide, Ringo. There have been heads of state, kings, grand Beings who have killed millions whom I did not bring to my special place."
"I feel special."
"You are. Follow me.” The queen stepped off the manicured path and made her way through the thick branches. He followed.
* * * *
Yin lapped up a quart of ice-cold water from a golden bowl that refilled as it was emptied. The trio was in one of the castle's five dining halls. The lush room was lined with stained glass lancet arch windows illuminated by pink interior lights that seemed to shine from everywhere yet from nowhere in particular. Poe 33 sat on a bench of lapis lazuli, an arc of electricity pouring out of thin air and into his reserve battery charging port on his left shin. General Stanglift stood by, arms folded, rolling his eyes in annoyance with each noisy gulp of Yin's little tongue.