March: A Tale of Salmon and Swedes (The Glothic Tales Book 4) (5 page)

‘Well, I imagine there’s quite a lot of very old technology in use on Earth, seeing as it has been locked away and isolated from the Twelve Sun Systems for so long now. More coffee?’

‘Um, no thanks, I’m fine.’

‘It’s not very good, is it?’

‘I’ve had better, but after our launch, it has helped settle my stomach a little. Look, can I ask if you get used to launches like that?’

Clikk laughed. ‘No, never. I much prefer flying Noorlac Interceptors, Hoogs or even hulking mining shuttles. But then again, I did sign up for some adventure, so I can’t complain when it comes along every now and then.’

‘Once was more than enough for me. Is the return flight as bad?’

‘Similar, but with a little extra bumpiness for a few seconds when the shuttle goes through the exit point.’

‘And crosses the exploding ballistic missile’s path.’

‘That’s the aim,’ Clikk laughed.

‘But you’d prefer to use modern force field ports, I would imagine.’

‘No argument there. Well, we should start on getting you to your destination,’ Clikk said, looking at his watch, and then getting up from his seat to head back to the front of the shuttle.

‘Um, yes, I suppose so.’

Walking, stooped over, March followed Clikk and returned to the front seats of the shuttle. The sun was rising over the blue horizon of Earth. Clikk busied with his black book, and the occasional adjustment of a knob or button on his dashboard. ‘We will be in position to teleport you down in a little under two hours.’

‘Yes, ok,’ March replied. There was no other optional response available to him, so he busied with THE to pass the time. He searched for
Abba
yet again, and stumbled upon a new song.

Ring, ring, why don't you give me a call?

Ring, ring, the happiest sound of them all

Ring, ring, I stare at the phone on the wall

And I sit all alone impatiently

Won't you please understand the need in me

So, ring, ring, why don't you give me a call?

So, ring, ring, why don't you give me a call?

‘What’s that?’ Clikk asked.

‘A musical group I’d like to meet on Earth.’

‘Can I see?’

‘Sure,’ March said, handing his THE centre coil book to him.

Clikk watched the four group members, all dressed in white, as they sang. ‘Oh, they are marvellous! I’ve never heard anything like it.’ He watched until the end of the song, and instead of handing it back to March, asked, ‘is there more?’

‘Sure,’ March replied, somewhat surprised by Clikk’s enthusiasm. Just slide back and click a new song.’

Clikk did, and then hesitated on his choice for a moment. ‘Oh, this looks good,’ he said, as he selected a song, and turned up the volume a little.

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line

Honey I'm still free

Take a chance on me

If you need me, let me know, gonna be around

If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down

If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown

Honey I'm still free

Take a chance on me

Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie

If you put me to the test, if you let me try

Take a chance on me

(That's all I ask of you honey)

Take a chance on me.

‘They are fantastic! How did you discover them?’

‘By accident, really.’

‘Absolutely wonderful. I love the sound of their voices. Quite unique. And you say you’re going to meet them?’

‘Oh, no plans yet, but I’d very much like to.’

‘There’s just enough room on our shuttle for the four of them,’ Clikk said, with a wry smile.

‘Ah, yes, just!’ March agreed, as they both laughed.

‘This is meant to be my last flight to Earth on this mission, but if you manage to convince these four to come back with you, send me a message by Q’muniktor and I’ll apply happily for the round trip!’

‘And risk being blown up by missiles, yet again?’

‘Oh, it would be worth pressing my luck one more time to meet these people. Are you sure they’re human?’

‘No, I’m not sure about that at all. But they have something special about them, don’t they?’

‘Magical,’ Clikk said, finally and reluctantly handing THE back to March.

The nearly two hours to teleporting passed quickly after March found a few karaoke versions of Abba songs, and he and Clikk took turns in singing along with Agnetha, Björn, Benny, and Anni-Frid, as they orbited closer to Earth’s surface. If it hadn’t been for warning beeps and flashing lights from Clikk’s dashboard, in the middle of their enthusiastic duo rendition of
Fernando
, they may have missed their rendezvous coordinates completely.

*****

Clikk opened the small hatch in the floor in the aisle of the shuttle and waited, as March gathered his sack – and courage. ‘I guess it’s time then,’ he said, now standing nervously opposite Clikk, looking down at the hole in the floor.

‘Ready?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Have you turned your Q’muniktor onto geoping?’

‘Oh, ok,’ March said, and pulled it from his sack to make the adjustment.

‘Now your contact should be able to locate you when you land.’

‘Should be able to?’

‘Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.’

March gave Clikk a less than convinced look.

‘Ok. Sit on the side of the hatch, with your legs down in the teleport, then, lower yourself to support your weight on your elbows.’

March slung his sack over his shoulder and then did as Clikk said. He looked up at Clikk, and they exchanged uneasy smiles as Clikk checked his watch.

‘When I say go, relax, and let yourself fall.’

‘Relax huh? I doubt it.’

‘Ok, five, four, three, two, one … go!’

March let his elbows go, and as he fell through into the teleport, he caught Clikk’s wave goodbye above him before he was enveloped in blackness. It felt as if he was in a water slide, except for the lack of water, but his fall was a little slower than he had expected. Not that he had known what to expect though, but he was pleased to discover that when he bounced from the sides of the teleport on his way down, they weren’t solid like a water slide. It felt more like he was bouncing to and from balloons, albeit with a course sandpaper like finish. Whatever the inside of the teleport was made of, it seemed to help slow his fall considerably.

His landing came as a surprise though, as the end of teleport clearly didn’t quite reach to ground level.

‘Ouch!’ he yelped, as his legs hit the ground, hard, then slid immediately from beneath him, landing heavily on his backside, before falling painfully onto his back, and then due to his backward momentum, banged the back of his head on the turf.

‘Uurrgghh,’ was all he could manage, as he lay prone on his back, winded, in what felt like something very moist, and then realised that his ability to breathe was not working so well. He tried to move, but all he could manage was another groaning sound, before gasping for breath. Lying still and waiting for his lungs to start working again seemed to be his best option. He let a few minutes pass, gazing up at the darkness, waiting for his ability to breathe to return. Finally, he managed to catch a few half breaths.

‘It’s a little easier in daylight. At least you can see the ground coming up and you can prepare yourself for the last little drop.’

‘Uh?’

‘Welcome to Earth, March, I’m Tryskolia.’

‘Where … are …?’ March managed, still struggling to breathe, but able to focus on an elderly woman wearing a pink and white knitted beanie, standing above him.

‘Hyde Park,’ she replied, as she offered her walking stick to help him up. ‘Sorry about it being so muddy, but it’s been raining all day long. But then again, it always rains in London.

‘Thank …. you,’ March said, as he struggled to his feet, careful not to pull on her walking stick.

‘A good thing you came at night though, as Glothic fashion is very definitely not
in
on Earth, so you would really stand out here if you were seen in public,’ she said, as March looked down at his emerald green velvet body suit with big gold buttons running down the front and wondered what was wrong. There was certainly one thing wrong though. His shiny golden pixie slippers weren’t shining at all, as they were covered in thick black mud. So was the back of his head, but he hadn’t noticed that yet.

‘Come on then. I live just across the road, so it’s only a short walk. Once you get cleaned up and changed, we can have a cup of tea and a chat,’ she said, as she walked off, with March finally catching his breath, following a muddy step or two behind her.

When In Rome

In the darkness of three in the morning it was difficult for March to make out much, other than that Tryskolia had guided him along a path in the park, then across a large road and after a short walk, into a white building. He wiped his muddy slippers on the doormat as best he could before entering.

‘I’m on the top floor,’ she said, as they entered an elevator and she found her key. ‘It’s a secure floor.’

March didn’t really know what that meant, but now, with the benefit of light, he satisfied himself that she was indeed Gregorian.

‘It’s the nose, isn’t it?’ she said, sensing where his gaze was focused.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s all right. Our long Gregorian noses and grey eyes run in the family. Well, mostly grey,’ she added, noticing his green eye.’

‘I understand that you like stamp collecting.’

‘You have done your research,’ she said, as the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival at her floor. The doors opened directly into an anteroom. ‘Come along then, let’s get you cleaned up,’ she said, as March hesitated at the doors of the elevator.

‘Um, yes.’

‘This way.’

‘Do you prefer to be called Tryskolia or January?’

‘My friends here call me Trys, and my enemies, damn Madame Munchk,’ she laughed, as she opened the door from the anteroom to her sitting room, and then carried on through down a hall leading to a large bedroom. ‘Your bathroom is through there, and the wardrobe is stocked with clothes. So get cleaned up and changed, and I’ll make a cuppa and a light supper.’

‘Um, thank you … eh, Trys.’

*****

It took March some considerable amount of time to make the water work. He waved his hands over everything, but nothing happened. Standing naked in the bath, looking up at the shower nozzle, scratching his goatee and wondering what to do didn’t help at all in making the water work, but it did help in him divining what he should do next. He went back to his bedroom and grabbed his THE, and entered,
water +
bathroom
.

Water on Earth is controlled by rudimentary methods and devices, including valves, faucets, taps and stopcocks. These devices are usually operated by manually turning them either anti-clockwise for on, or clockwise for off. They are very often difficult to manipulate and require the use of hand strength to operate them. After use, they should always be turned fully in a clockwise direction to avoid flooding. References: Noah – Ark – Plumber – How to run a bath.

March clicked on the last reference and carefully watched the instructional video, before returning to the bathroom and then successfully getting hot water to run into the bath. With the assistance of THE, March solved a number of other bathroom mysteries, including how to operate the bath plug, use towels, how to flush a toilet and how to make a hairdryer work. However, a much bigger dilemma awaited him after his bath. When he opened his wardrobe, he gasped in shock.

*****

March found Trys in the kitchen, making supper.

‘Oh, you look much more presentable,’ she said, when she saw him walk in.

‘These feel like something that should contain potatoes.’

‘Jeans are fashionable casual wear here,’ she replied, and March noticed that without her beanie, her hair was long and silver, and that she looked a little younger than when he first set eyes on her in the park.

‘They are rather uncomfortable.’

‘I’m sure you’ll adapt to the little changes on Earth. Anyway, can you take this tray through to the dining room and I’ll bring the tea.’

‘Yes, of course.’

When they sat down at the dining table, Trys poured the tea. ‘Help yourself; you must be hungry after your long journey. So, how is your father?’

‘Um, he’s fine,’ March said, and took a bite of his sandwich.

‘He’s a fine man and has become a very wise Supreme Potentate, and he always sends me a kind message every time I submit my reports. He’s a stickler for detail, and politeness. You look very much like your father too.’

‘Our genes,’ he managed, with his mouth full.

‘Well, I’m looking forward to getting home to Gloth in a couple of years. I could have returned a few years ago, but I don’t know, I quite like it here and it’s a good job, so no need to rush into retirement just yet.’

‘Do you miss Gloth?’

‘Sometimes I suppose, but I have enough here to keep me busy. Perhaps I miss the colours. One can have quite enough of blue skies, seas, oceans and rivers after a while, although here in London, a blue sky is a rarity. Grey is the most common colour here, so yes, I have to admit that I do miss our lovely magenta skies on Gloth.

Anyway, enough about all that. You’re here to do some work, and I’m told that salmon and caviar are on the top of your list.’

‘Precious metals, technology and arms are on my list too. But after my experience in getting here, I think having polar gates or entry ports installed in the force field wouldn’t be a bad idea. However, my father doesn’t seem to be in a hurry, as he is still of the mind that the Erdean gene should be kept totally quarantined.’

‘Perhaps you need a little time to understand his concern, as I’m sure you will be in for a few surprises here, especially during the next couple of weeks. When I first arrived, I thought people here were absolute savages, but I have tempered my opinion, well, a little over the years.’

‘So what’s your opinion of them now?’

‘Confused mostly, because they are so easily convinced by convenient lies and manipulated history, yet awfully reluctant to be persuaded by truth. They seem much more content with fantasy than fact, and have a value system that would be totally foreign to those who live in the rest of the Twelve Sun Systems. I believe it stems from their enforced isolation by Gloth, so I can’t be too harsh on them for not understanding what they don’t know about.’

‘My father tried to explain to me about their value of pieces of paper, but I didn’t understand. I did a little research before my departure, but there was little mention of it in THE.’

‘Oh THE! Is The History of Earth still available? I used to send updates for it, but let me think now; it must be over twenty years since I sent my last one. Yes, now I recall. It was an update about a pretty little princess here, who had the misfortune to die quite young. It was such a tragedy, and the end of a lovely fairy tale story. Well, anyway, shortly after that, I received a message from the editor saying that due to a lack of readership, and any interest in Earth, that it would only be updated on a fifty-year cycle. A pity though, because I quite liked writing those little updates.’

‘These are lovely sandwiches. What are they?’

‘Cucumber.’

‘They’re nice. Um, have you ever heard of Abba?’

‘Of course I have.’

*****

Oxford Street was, as it always is on a Saturday morning – full of throngs of shoppers filling the sidewalks on either side of the road. March struggled against the oncoming, and passing crowds, while at the same time trying to guide his umbrella between, over and under the oncoming, and passing umbrellas that hindered his progress. As he had never experienced anything that resembled a crowd on Gloth, nor used such an odd tool as an umbrella, it was quite a first morning welcome to Earth reality for him. He tried to copy Trys, as she seemed to meld herself, and her umbrella, into, and between the crowds of scurrying people and hardly missed her step as she floated between the crush of never ending bodies, and brollies.

‘We can stop for a coffee and cake if you like.’

‘Um, yes, ok,’ he replied, happy to grasp the opportunity of a respite from the freezing cold rain and torrential crowds.

Even though Trys had told him, over their light breakfast of bacon, scrambled eggs, pork sausages, black pudding and baked beans that Nike runners, Levi’s 501, a Lacoste rugby shirt and a leather jacket from Milan were seen as extremely fashionable in London, March still felt very uncomfortable and underdressed, as he followed her into Starbucks. He suffered pangs for the civility of Gloth as Trys readied to order at a crowded counter after having joined a long queue. The concept of waiting in line to be served was totally foreign and insulting to him, yet he held his tongue.

He watched with intense interest though, as in turn, the people in the queue in front of them exchanged small pieces of coloured paper for their coffees and assorted cakes and treats and then very oddly, the young woman, who had taken their pieces of coloured paper from them, in exchange for the coffee he presumed, then handed them an assortment of small round shiny pieces of metal. March was very confused by this, as in his thinking, the small pieces of gold and silver metal looked extremely precious, and clearly of much greater value than either the pieces of paper or the coffee and cakes.

As he was trying to calculate the logic of this repeated process, he then noticed a man handing the young woman a thin rectangular piece of silver plastic, which she inserted into a small device, and then gave the man his coffee, and handed back his plastic card. She smiled at him, and said thank you, but she didn’t give him any gold and silver. He was about to ask Trys about this mystery, but they were now at the counter, and Trys asked the young woman for two cappuccinos.

‘Is a cappuccino ok with you?’ she asked him, almost as an afterthought.

‘Um, yes, fine,’ March replied without thinking, or knowing what a cappuccino was, as he was far more interested in watching Trys take a coloured piece of paper from her purse, and hand it to the young woman.

‘That’ll be five pounds sixty, please,’ the young woman said, and Trys handed over her piece of coloured paper. The young woman then handed Trys some pieces of shining metal and said, ‘here’s your change, now I’ll just get your cappuccinos.’

‘Can I see them?’

‘See what?’ Trys asked, a little confused by his question.

‘The pieces of precious metal.’

‘Um, ok,’ she said, as she handed them to him, and March studied them in his hand with great interest. They indeed felt very precious.

After circling for an age, carrying their cardboard coffees, and with March still intently studying the pieces of gold, silver and brass in the palm of his hand, some people finally vacated a table, and Trys shoved her way in front of a couple, who apparently weren’t as practised as she was at table snatching.

As they sat, March asked, ‘what are they called?’

‘Money, um, well they’re coins. Money consists of notes and coins.’

‘Notes?’

‘Notes are made of paper, and coins from metal.’

‘Ah, right, so the coloured pieces of paper are called notes. But these coins are more valuable, aren’t they?’ he asked, as he opened his hand, showing them to Trys.

‘No, the paper is worth more.’

‘That’s ridiculous. These are made from precious metals, so they have real value. Paper is worthless.’

‘You have a lot to learn about…..’ Trys started to say, and was going to explain the time value of Earth money, but a dispute broke out at the table next to them, as two women and a man argued over who had arrived first at the recently vacated table.

‘Is it always like this?’

‘What, fighting for a table?’

‘Well, yes, but I mean, the crowds of people. Do they always congregate in huge packs?’

‘In London, yes. There’s not enough room for everyone, so it’s always a little bit of a fight to find your place. But there are quieter places.’

‘I think I would prefer the quieter places, to be honest.’

‘I do too.’

‘So, why do you stay?’

‘Because this is where I can stay in contact with the Camera Stellata.’

‘The what?’

‘It’s complicated, but as I’m sure you know, Earth doesn’t have a leader, or even a planetary council or government.’

‘No, I didn’t know that. I did read about a body called the United Nations, and had presumed that was the planetary governing body.’

‘Oh the UN as it’s called, is a rabble. It only meets with the aim to try to stop wars, but usually ends up only starting them – so they can then proudly stop them. It’s hilarious to watch.’

‘So how can Earth possibly control itself?’

‘It does and it doesn’t. Welcome to chaos,’ she said, with a wry grin. ‘There are I think, at last count, around one hundred and sixty countries on Earth, some big, but mostly small, which each have their own independent government. They usually hate each other with a passion, both within each country and without, argue a lot and generally don’t get along at all well together. Conflicts break out, but the sides and allegiances change like the wind, so it all gets very confusing as to who is whose friend or enemy at any given point in time.’

‘That’s an impossibility.’

‘Not here, it isn’t. It’s the reality. But fortunately, there’s the Camera Stellata, which is sometimes called the Star Chamber.’

‘And that is?’

‘It’s a bit like a gathering of twelve Supreme Potentates, who meet every three months or so to try to bring some order to the chaos. They are all descendants of the Glothic royal family members, who were resettled here by Septimity because they were of mixed Erdean and Glothic genetics, and in particular, from January and her son April, who was of course, in line to become Supreme Potentate. Unfortunately for him, as we know, that was not to be. However, each member of the Camera Stellata is definitely of Glothic royal blood, as they all descend from the Glothic royal family, well, all via Pope Gregory, or December the Tenth as you may know him, and his Erdean gene that is.