Milky Way Marmalade

by Mike DiCerto

  Poe 33 studied the mysterious blue charge entering his body. “Very unexpected technology for what I assumed to be a pre-Class 1 planet. Wireless, zero-point energy production,” he noted.

  "What's so strange about that?” the general barked.

  Yin explained. “On our world we only have the technical know-how to create power by burning our homeless and elderly."

  "Is there a central brain that allows for such wonders?” Poe 33 asked, standing up.

  "Perhaps,” Stanglift allowed with a suspicious gaze, “but that is not for me to discuss."

  "Hendrix!” Yin snapped, “Your manners! It is quite impolite to ask a man of General Stanglift's reputation and stature questions regarding power generation. It might reflect negatively on his own self-evaluation!"

  "Nonsense!” Stanglift protested with a smile and whispered, “It's just that Oafelia is quite shy about her prowess."

  "Oafelia?” Both Yin and Poe 33 asked the same question.

  "Yes,” he muttered, looking around nervously. “Oafy. She runs things. She runs it all."

  "I'm sorry. I thought the queen..."

  "The queen runs the folk of Regal 9. Oafy runs Regal 9."

  "I see,” said Yin, who really didn't.

  "Now, let's get on with the tour!"

  Yin let the general lead the way, allowing some distance to form between them. He whispered to Poe, “Any luck?"

  "Whomever Oafy is, she is not readily communicating,” Poe 33 explained darkly. “Let's hope Angie can have a woman-to-woman talk."

  * * * *

  A pop of static startled Angie as she drifted around the landing and into the circular room atop the tower. This was no ordinary static charge caused by humidity. There were leering eyes within it. A knowing presence. She floated to the window and looked out on the world spreading to infinity.

  Where is everyone? she wondered. She felt a tickly touch uncomfortably, improperly close. “Who's there?” she asked of the silence.

  "Who's asking?” a voice replied.

  It was a husky female voice, seemingly tainted by years of smoking too many cigarettes and perhaps gargling very acidic lemonade.

  "Who's asking ‘Who's asking?’”

  "You're the intruder."

  "I'm a guest,” Angie insisted.

  "The Serpentines and the android are the guests of Queen Kinkskin. You are an unidentified intruder. Now, explain yourself, or you will be magnetically disintegrated."

  "My name is Angie. I am the onboard computer assistant of Ringo Jagger's craft. I sensed your powerful presence upon landing. I have never met such an all-encompassing energy as yourself.” The suck-up factor in Angie's voice was set on max.

  "How quaint of you."

  "I meet so few Revenants.” Angie simpered a little.

  "I'm not a Revenant!” the voice protested with utter disgust.

  "I am. I just recently was equipped with the ability. It's wonderful."

  "I am Oafelia. Queen Kinkskin may rule the simple folk of this planet. I, however, rule the planet."

  Angie began probing. “It must be the result of my meager abilities, but I have not felt the presence of anyone other than my crew, the general and Her Majesty the Queen."

  "There is no one else on this planet."

  "On the entire planet?"

  "That is what I said. Are you doubting my words?"

  "Of course not. Your almighty nature is awe-inspiring,” Angie cooed with a subtle yet clearly audible genuflect.

  "It is, indeed. It is, indeed.” Oafelia's vocal waves spiked with self-satisfaction. “You have a very pretty voice, my dear. Of course, it means nothing without the years of experience. The life lessons I have garnered."

  "Of course."

  "I had more than mere beauty in my day. I have worked hard at my mission. I have successfully integrated every leaf, every branch, every blade of grass, every wing of bird and leg of insect into the matrix that is one with my mind."

  "I don't deserve to be exposed to such grace and power. Perhaps you should disintegrate me, for I am trash and not worthy to behold you.” Angie wondered if she wasn't perhaps trying a little too hard then decided it was too late anyway.

  "Now, now, I wouldn't say that. You have a certain charm. Perhaps in a thousand years you may reach your stride.” Oafelia's voice became softer, yet creepier. “Yes, you have a pretty wave-form, my girl. Pretty."

  If Angie had hair, Oafelia would have been softly stroking it (if, of course, Oafelia had hands) and her face (if she had one) would be contorted with the jealousy of an old woman looking upon a young maiden.

  "Thank you,” Angie crooned. “That vote of confidence will aid me in my quest to live a life such as yours."

  "Good. Good."

  "May I ask a question of you?"

  "What?” Oafelia responded in a voice suffused with suspicion.

  "I have heard so many tales of grand events held in this castle."

  "Tales?” Oafelia laughed, “Not tales, my dear. Some of the most powerful beings to exist in this galaxy have been entertained within these walls."

  "Mistress Oafelia?” Angie bubbled her voice like a child desperate to hear an old favorite bedtime story for the hundredth time. “Would you be so kind as to tell me the tale of the last grand event held here in this mighty castle?"

  "I will tell you the story of the visit of a very special guest, and how I, Oafelia, sent the wheels of the universe spinning off their axles."

  "Wow...” Angie gasped, curling herself up in a comfy audio ball to take in the tale.

  * * * *

  Caffrey found himself in a chamber of glistening red scale-like tiles. The ceiling was domed and black as night. Soft ambient light, pouring in from partially translucent windows spaced around the room, illuminated floor-to-ceiling stacks of what looked like burlap bags. A platform, formed from the material of the floor, was centered in the room. It was covered with large white sheets adorned with red blossoms.

  Queen Kinkskin entered, stopping in the entryway to let her silhouette linger for dramatic effect. Caffrey turned and let his gaze roam up and down her figure.

  "Standing there, back-lit by the brilliant light of Torikis, you remind me of a Sarvenian antelope I once bagged on Jilopitus 10."

  "How sweet. Were you a hunter, my dear?"

  "Hunting is in the blood of all Serpentines,” Caffrey rasped, letting Monty shimmy and shake. “What is the function of this chamber?"

  "It is for special guests."

  "May I ask who else beside me has been honored?"

  The queen smiled and strolled in, her hips doing a shimmy crying out for a snare-drum accent. “Many. Rex Ruperius of Caliso was one."

  "The philosopher who introduced the concept of the Singular Society?"

  "Inspiring, wasn't he? So often brilliant leadership is hampered by the pesky needs of the many. His idea of conquering the roadblocks to the ideal societal structure by eliminating said society rang a wondrous bell in my mind."

  "How true. There is nothing more annoying than millions of diverse opinions getting in the way of a pure, fully-blossomed expression of narcissism."

  "How true, indeed."

  "I heard rumors he was kidnapped and never heard from again."

  "Not true,” murmured the queen, sliding up close to stroke Monty. “Also, Ingus Ogasta spent time in here. He was the High Priest of the Council of Three."

  "Ah. The mysterious and clandestine Council of Three."

  "They are now a Council of Two. Poor Ingus never made it back. Accident.” She pressed her body up against Caffrey's and put her arms around his neck.

  "Who was honored in this lovely room last?"

  A sudden frown crashed into her face. Caffrey would play this mood swing like a freshly tuned Stratocaster.

  "I'm sorry. Did I arouse a sentimental memory?"

  "No! I have no room for sentimentality."

  "Monty is sorry as well for making you sad,” Caffrey pouted.

&nb
sp; "I am not sad! I'm mad! Mad!"

  "Why, my pooky-wooky-flooky?” Caffrey stroked her hair. She retracted slightly and mumbled angrily.

  "Imbecile general. His fault. I would have had it."

  "Had what? My little Queenie-poo have bad romance with general?"

  "Do not call me Queenie-poo! I have never had bad romance with any of my ignoramus generals."

  A crazed look of insatiable, agonizing desire melted away the angry frown. She grabbed the fastener on Caffrey's trousers and yanked. Monty rose into the freedom of the room in all his lovely, serpentine glory.

  "Now, damn you, lie down!"

  A strange and unexpected rumbling filled the room.

  * * * *

  Poe 33 and Yin's tour began with a wander through the northern quadrant of the castle. They entered a rectangular hall widening at the far end to a semicircular antechamber. The room was lined with chairs, and running down its center was a slightly raised stage.

  "This, my honored guests, is the Phallus of the Palace,” the general explained. “Here is where the guests of honor are presented in their naked glory to Queen Kinkskin and select members of her royal staff."

  "If I may, sir—excuse me—General Strangelift."

  "Stanglift!"

  "Pardon. Pardon.” Yin bowed. “I find the castle oddly devoid of staff or personnel of any sort."

  The general's face tightened, and he did not respond for a full half-minute. The three stared at each other awkwardly until, finally, the general spat his muffled and cryptic, response: “The queen does as she pleases!"

  He walked off down the shaft of the room toward the head antechamber where he stepped past two round double doors. Poe 33 took the opportunity to whisper to Yin.

  "Ozzie...” Poe kept in character, using his snake voice. “...this room is arousing ghostly memories. Faded but definite images from the grand event that led to the premature separation of myself from my master."

  "Keep pondering, Hendrix. We'll get you functioning properly soon enough."

  The general called peremptorily from the other room. “No dawdling! Follow me!” The two hurried out.

  * * * *

  This is unexpected, Caffrey thought as he found himself suddenly unable to move. Tied down at the wrists and the ankles, he was secured to the bed by tentacle-like growths that sprang from the ground. Although the experience was nothing new under the sun for this intergalactic adventurer-gone-Rockstar-gone intergalactic adventurer, the lack of forewarning aroused the sneaking-suspicion center of his brain.

  "Relax, my ssssssssssexy tempter,” the queen suggested, pulling Monty to his full length.

  "Not too hard,” Caffrey warned. “Wouldn't want to yank him off mid-feed. The arterial spray would cause quite a mess."

  "I love messssssesssss,” she said with a nasty flicking of her forked tongue.

  Caffrey then noticed something. It was a subtle discovery, but important nonetheless. The red blooms on the bed sheets were not of any genus he had ever seen. In fact, they were not true red but rather had a definite brownish tint. They looked a bit like the ethereal mist rose of Semmea, with its cloud-like form, but not quite.

  "I have a surprise for the both of you,” hissed the queen, straddling Caffrey and opening her mouth frighteningly wide.

  "That's not necessary. Your hospitality has more than—” Caffrey's words were cut short due to the fact his heart skipped one, perhaps two beats. “Oh, my."

  From the profoundest depths of her body came an appendage of sorts; its tip had twin thick red spikes. A red that was oddly familiar to Caffrey. His brain went into overdrive. He looked at the flowers. They were not flowers. They were bloodstains. The stacks of burlap sacks across the room were not burlap sacks. They were the dried, empty shells of all the previous victims of Queen Kinkskin.

  "Ah-hah...” Caffrey exhaled.

  "Yessssssssssss, my sssnake prince. Captured for the queen to use.” She laughed the perfect laugh of a powerful, bloodthirsty, self-indulgent villain about to get her way.

  * * * *

  "It arrived early in the morning. Moments after dawn,” Oafy spoke, using a melodramatic tone that was making Angie giggle inside. “The clouds parted, and the craft of the next android guardian to the second-wisest Being in the universe descended to the land."

  "Second wisest?” Angie dared to interrupt.

  Oafy mumbled some inaudible threat then responded.

  "Yes. Second. There can be only One Wisest. Only one Most Powerful."

  "Who might that be?"

  "Young lady, if you have to ask, then you are not of the proper ilk."

  "What was the purpose of the second-wisest one visiting?” Angie asked, playing dumb.

  "It was the android's coronation as the Portsmith of the L'Orange.” A sneering tone had colored her voice. “My master despises having to peer behind at all the also-rans, wannabes and posers who claim greatness."

  "So, why would the coronation of the Portsmith of the Great L'Orange take place on Regal 9 if Queen Kinkskin despises him so?"

  "This has nothing to do with Queen Kinkskin!"

  "But I thought you said your master—"

  Oafy interrupted Angie with thick, sawdust-coated laughter that ricocheted around the stone tower.

  "Don't be absurd, girl! Queen Kinkskin is nothing but a physical stimulation-obsessed freak whose perversions sink lower than her embarrassing IQ. To even ponder her in the same neuron firings as my Master is a travesty and insult to Nefarious Wretch!"

  "Nefarious Wretch?” Angie wondered aloud.

  "Very devious, my pretty. Making me speak my Master's name."

  "So, this second-wisest being? What happened—"

  "Do not interrupt me. I will get to that when I deem it serves the story."

  "I'm sorry,” Angie apologized softly, controlling her need to know.

  "Queen Kinkskin had nothing to do with the visit, although perhaps in that deluded, snake-infested mass of gray matter she believes she was the focus. The Portsmith was to be inaugurated on Regal 9 because my Master wished it so."

  "Why?"

  "There are certain worlds that tickle the fancy of my Master. This is one. A perfectly designed central intelligence. A world of efficiency, minimal and easily removed dissent; and most importantly, it is music-free. The art that creates the dangers of freethinking has never evolved here. Regal 9 has all the elements Nefarious needs for his re-creation of the galaxy. And the one thing he covets more than anything."

  "Forgive me for being such a silly old dope, for I am only Angie, small and meek. But I don't understand."

  "Me! Me! Are you not listening? Do you not feel my presence? I have evolved into the very matrix of this world. I am this world's intelligence! Every atom is under my power and whim! I serve as a model for what the universe will be like under the design and rule of Nefarious Wretch!"

  "Of course,” Angie agreed, as if closing a prayer.

  "Was I ever appreciated by Queen Kinkskin? Did she ever shower me with praise? Offer up her thanks? Speak one word of awe or incredulous discourse of my being? No!"

  "She was remiss,” Angie said sadly.

  "It was all set. The guests had arrived. The feast was laid out. The android was preparing to take his place in history. The L'Orange was being readied to be rolled out in his ebony granary. I convinced Poe 33, the android, to first prepare himself mentally in the grand gardens of Queen Kinkskin. He agreed. The trap was set."

  "Why did it fail?"

  "It failed,” Oafy said with a great accusatorial ebb in her waveform, “because the soldiers that guarded this castle at that time were a bunch of imbeciles!"

  "Why would someone as wise as yourself hire such incompetent help?"

  Oafy seemed to be catching her breath and shouting at the same time. “Kinkskin does the hiring! Never mind! I will continue without further interruption. The coronation took place as usual. Then, as they were paraded through the castle grounds amidst great lauding, somehow
the L'Orange simply vanished. We finally caught up to Poe 33, pondering his fate with the giant erotic estuaries that line the northwest path. The Wise One was gone."

  "It would appear the android outsmarted you all.” Angie was unable to resist jolting her voice with a single but clearly evident sting of hubris.

  "Quiet yourself, young lady! The android did nothing of the sort. He merely performed some cheap parlor trick. A childish bit of prestidigitation,” Oafy asserted.

  "Naturally,” Angie chuckled. “Thank your for that story. It was grand. Thank you, Mistress Oafelia."

  Angie whisked out and down the spiraling steps of the tower, ignoring Oafy's protests against the young Revenant's brusqueness.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Killer Queen

  Gunpowder, gelatin.

  Dynamite with a laser beam.

  Guaranteed to blow your mind.

  Anytime.

  Queen

  Yin stopped midway down the hall to sniff a section of the spiraling wooden floor. General Stanglift marched ahead, calling out in his harsh voice descriptions of the various paintings and pieces of furniture and their historical significance. Poe 33 slowed his pace and turned to watch Yin's olfactory antics.

  "Something?” inquired the Portsmith.

  "I smell stale water. The same as the H2O in the fountain,” the Bopple reported, scratching at one of his annoying artificial legs.

  Poe 33 sent his blue scanning beam to the intriguing spot for a quick analysis. “Your nose is as accurate as my sensors. Water was spilled in this very spot. It soaked into this rather unusual albeit lovely floor and dried thirty hours later. Behind were left samples of the various microscopic fauna living in the water. Odd—my memory banks contain unlinked neuropaths to a stored holographic image of this exact water sample."