In Search of the Alter Dom (26 page)

Sebus sits calmly at the controls of the Typhon War Hawk, expertly handling the craft and weaponry: he reminded Blodwyn of a child genius, in front of a video game. Another two Na Idriss battleships are hit and destroyed. Blodwyn watches in terror as the Malis Afar battleships, led by their reptilian Queen, head straight for them on collision course! Another Malis Afar battleship is destroyed ahead. The warship Blodwyn is in flies straight through the explosion – amid sounds of debris striking the Tellium hull. Having closed the range, the Alliance fleet opens up a mass bombardment together. Three Galla Quall Warships are hit and explode!

The battle commences: battleships weave in and out of the melee. Queen Raa skillfully handles the flagship – shooting down another Galla Quall Typhon War Hawk, which explodes. ‘Close in – close in,’ screams the Queen, ‘don’t allow them range.’ Another two Galla Quall Interceptor warships are hit by the Alliance’s overwhelming firepower – turning into fiery balls – falling, disappearing into the depths of bottomless space.

The Galla Qualls are greatly outnumbered. They are soon reduced to one battleship; the flag-ship commanded by Sebus. It breaks away from the battle at full warp and disappears into space: Blodwyn grips the seat with white knuckles and holds her breath; desperately trying to keep her head upright as it is pulled backwards by the G-force!

The reptilian Queen of the Malis Afar watches the fleeing Galla Quall warship. ‘Let it go – we can’t catch it anyway – we have done well my sons!’ ‘We have lost eighteen class one, battleships, Mother Queen!’ protests the Admiral.

‘We have won a great victory my son,’ replies the Queen picking up her son the Admiral with one arm, and placing him on her lap – stroking his head with her talloned claws. ‘You see, we have destroyed six Galla Quall War Hawks; each led by a single Galla Quall! I happened to know that is nearly a quarter of the total Galla Quall population – a great loss – never to be replaced! They have no beautiful, egg-laying Queen like me. Now,’ continues the reptile Queen; throwing the Admiral off her lap, ‘order all our battleships to re-group, adopt bombardment formations – prepare to attack Quilla Prime!’

After the Malis Afar and the Na Idriss had won the battle and were heading for Quilla Prime, the main Galla Quall War-fleet fleet flash through the Sirius Wormhole travelling thousands of millions of miles in seconds. They were too late to help the Galla Quall home fleet of warships led by Sebus – that was an hour earlier. But they were now in present time. Just time enough to set up their ambush ahead of the Alliance battle fleet on their way to bombard Quilla Prime! The Galla Quall Typhon War Hawks take up ambush positions and cloak – completely disappearing. They had lost two Typhon War Hawks traveling through the Sirius Wormhole at speed; their hulls collapsing. More lives lost: bringing the Galla Qualls, and the Ida Jaade another step nearer to extinction!

The Alliance battle fleet approach Quilla Prime, in bombardment order; unaware of the waiting danger. The Galla Quall Typhon War Hawk battleships of the grand fleet open a devastating fire. Hydra torpedoes and Orion cannon tore into the flanks of the Malis Afar and Na Idriss battleships.

Caught off guard and suffering heavy losses, the Na Idriss were first to break and flee leaving the Malis Afar vulnerable.

‘Cowards!’ screams the reptilian Queen. ‘You feline pussycats – stay and fight.’

‘We have lost half our fleet,’ reports the Admiral, ‘we are no match for their weapons.’ Even the warlike reptile Queen knew all was lost! ‘Break off formation – make for the home Planets – we will be back!’ she screams over the intercom.

The Galla Quall War Hawks pursues, the Alliance battleships – shooting down stragglers till their air space was cleared.

Join your hands: then join mine; let two wild woodbines entwine.

With Venus the fairy star behind; let Lingly law two lovers bind!

Blodwyn and Sebus the Galla Quall stood by the blue tranquil lake back on Quilla Prime, beneath a white streaked apricot sky. They looked skywards as the returning Galla Quall War-fleet circle the lake. Then like giant gannets, each warship dived with great speed vertically into the lake, with hardly a splash. ‘How deep is your lake?’ asks Blodwyn, amazed.

‘Over eight Earth miles!’ answers the Galla Quall: his large dark sad eyes gazing over the blue silky water.

‘Do you really have a spaceship called the Poseidon that is faster than the speed of time; that can travel into the past and the future? Can you change present history, or the future – is it dangerous going back in time?’ Blodwyn continues.

‘Yes we do have a Time-ship capable of speeds over warp sixteen that will take us into the past – but we cannot change present history. What has happened in the past is written in stone – we can only observe the past. The only danger will be to the observers – ourselves! You see each event in the past is written in indelible ink on indestructible paper; you can go back in time and see the written words – but cannot change time – for the events have already happened! We have travelled to the near future and were disappointed to observe that there is nothing to see – the future is a void – a blank piece of paper still to be written on – there is nothing to change!’

‘It would be wonderful to visit the past,’ says Blodwyn. ‘I would love to see everything as it once was and see Terasils in their everyday life and the dangers they faced to survive.’

‘Well…. one day maybe,’ Sebus answers.

‘Don’t leave it too long,’ replies Blodwyn, ‘I don’t want to be in my rocking chair – when you call!’

A faint smile appeared on the Galla Qualls’s sad liquid face.

Blodwyn could hear medieval music floating on the warm scented breeze, from the direction of False Arcadia. ‘What’s going on?’ she asks.

‘On Earth’s its pagan May Day, always celebrated in False Arcadia,’ replies Sebus.

‘What!’ exclaims Blodwyn, ‘a whole year has past already – and it’s mid-summer’s eve again? My parents will think I have run away. They will be worried sick – I always said I would run away – or kill myself; but never meant it!’

‘Do not worry,’ smiles Sebus, ‘distance and space distorts time. The first day of May they are celebrating, is not in your present Earth time. You will be old and your parents long in their graves when this May day occurs!’

Sadness fell over Blodwyn. But that was still in the distant future. She knew the Galla Quall’s sadness was in the present; he had lost eight of his kind – never to be replaced. ‘I am truly sorry for the loss your race has suffered,’ she says sadly.

The Galla Quall nods solemnly. ‘Now go and join the merriment,’ says Sebus, ‘your friend Queen Angharad will be there – I must leave you now.’ Blodwyn kissed the Quall on the cheek; his flesh felt damp and cool, just like jelly. She watched him gracefully glide into the lake and disappear! Would she ever see a Galla Quall again?

Blodwyn then thought of Grunwalde and her blood boiled. “You scheming, lying little cow – tricking me into this dangerous odyssey – you could have told me the truth.”

Suddenly she felt all alone standing by the lake, and hurried towards the distant music: just to find company. Some sections of the woods were in dying winter; trees with bare branches, some in swollen bud, their dark trunks standing amid splashes of white snowdrops. Other woods were in young summer dress, showing pale glinting green leaves, canopying a bluebell carpet haze. Another wood she passed was in the full glory of autumn, it’s foliage ablaze with gold, russet and yellowing browns and siennas. Blodwyn noticed delicate beings of all races, and creatures she had never seen before capering around the trees; picking wild flowers or dancing on the carpet of fallen leaves.

A sound of un-shod hooves made her turn and look behind her. She saw a fat baldheaded old man astride a donkey. He had a beer-gut and skinny legs; he carried a jug in his hand and wore a garland on his shiny pate. He was as drunk as Bryn Jones the Wino on pension day or, “as pissed as a rat’s arse,” as Grunwalde would say. He looked like a fat Mr. Burns. Blodwyn recognized the two cowardly Satyrs who were stopping the old lush falling off his donkey. Around this trio danced lovely young laughing nymphs, who skipped around the old man – exposing their shapely small breasts at the old letch! As this merry group passed her, one of the Satyrs exclaims, ‘Look! It is the Gorgon eyed female wine guzzler, with the humpty back!’

Blodwyn gave the pair of cowardly Satyrs her best dirty look: then ignored the two prancing Satyrs nervous backward glances.

Blodwyn knew the fat old lush on the donkey was the Greek God Dionysus (Bacchus to the Romans). What a world of fantasy she found herself in, but she knew fantasy could also be dangerous! Blodwyn was puzzled. The Galla Quall says they were celebrating Pagan May day, so how could this be Heaven? Or, maybe it did not matter what a person believed in – as long as they led good lives. Blodwyn believed in Heaven and Hell but sometimes she became unsure and just hoped they existed. She could not bear the terrible thought that humans did not have souls; making them no different from animals when they died!

She reasoned that a conscience was in fact a soul – when we were alive. But when we lost our bodies in death; our conscience became our infinite thinking, living soul! But like all young people – she was always seeking confirmation!

Blodwyn once again noticed a pale blue creature peeping at her from behind a low cloud, and smiling. She smiled back. Suddenly a shaft of pastel light fell across the path; a Prism Window, she hesitated for a moment! She looked up at the pale blue winged being for confirmation – it smiled; she walked through. Blodwyn found herself in a lovely wildflower meadow, full of celebrating people. A gin-clear stream meandered through the meadow. Everyone was dressed in medieval costumes out of the Grimm Brothers’ Tales. Some were humans of different ages, others elfin-like and small with pointed ears. Some of the beings were at play, others were happily at work.

Blodwyn stopped and watched a swineherd watching his pigs in an autumn wood grazing acorns. Skinny beings, dressed in shamrock green, with large purple noses of drinkers; red spiky hair, and glazed eyes, played lively Celtic folk music. “Typical musicians – drunk as lords,” thought Blodwyn.

Young men and girls sang and danced around maypoles. Some naked couples freely cavorted in the grass Tables were laid out with delicious food and fruits. Blodwyn was famished. She sat at the nearest table and ate some fruit – then a loud familiar voice caught her attention! ‘Ouch! Ouch! You sniveling, sapp-sucking, little, bug-eyed bugger – you did that on purpose again – you little beast – I will bite you and lampoon your lugs!’ The voice could only belong to Grunwalde Angharad, Queen of the Lings. Blodwyn forgot her hunger; she had a bone to pick with the lying cow Grunwalde!

Blodwyn soon located Grunwalde in the company of the Goat-Man: sitting at a table. Grunwalde was being attended by her Lings. Lovely Maylings were braiding her golden hair. Two beautiful Narlings painted her fingernails while two button-eyed Sisling clung on to her feet giving her a pedicure; nibbling their Queen’s toenails. All the while beautiful Grunwalde was eating like a pig! The three bristling, brutish Tartarus Hobs – Bulrus Khan, Belbinder and Bunderhund, were jostling; cackling like hyenas baring their large yellow teeth, waiting for scraps.

Grunwalde giggled, and aimed kicks at their fat behinds. ‘Isn’t it fun,’ she declares to the Goat-Man, ‘kicking greedy groveling, grubby goblins; while they gobble greasy gobbets?’

‘Indeed,’ answers the Goat-Man, ‘as much fun as teasing and tickling tiny tinted trouts’ throats, with a teal’s, tail feather. Now let’s dance.’

‘Not likely – you stink like my Hobs,’ comments Grunwalde.

‘Well rip my reed!’ exclaims the Goat-Man: looking hurt. ‘But your Hobs smell of rotten – scabby dog!’

‘I give you fair warning Pan,’ says Grunwalde. ‘Wash him!’ she orders.

Laughing naked water Nymphs – Narlings, a wild-eyed Silky and a beautiful Mayling, pulled the Goat-Man towards the giggling stream. The Goat-Man clung on to the table; until Grunwalde bit his hand, forcing him to let go!

‘Ouch!’ exclaims the Goat-Man – that really hurt!’ Pan the Goat-Man was pulled towards the stream and his first bath in years.

This was Blodwyn’s chance. ‘Look here Myfanwy Jenkins,’ says Blodwyn, hands on hips. ‘You lying little cow – you tricked me – I was nearly killed! You forgot to mention the danger I would face from the Rills: Blind Tamasic – the Oga Koya, and a Sillian – to mention a few.’ Grunwalde ignored this outburst.

‘Ahh – Blodwyn cariad – lovely to see you.’ Blodwyn opened her mouth to continue her grievances – but before she could utter a word, Grunwalde quickly stuffed a drumstick down Blodwyn’s throat, nearly choking her, and giggled. Blodwyn had been caught out again.

‘Now Cariad,’ says Grunwalde, ‘you look like a bag-lady see. Wash and change her,’ orders Grunwalde. Blodwyn managed to grab another drumstick before being pulled away by giggling Nymphs, Narlings and Silkies towards the gin-clear gurgling stream. Hands pulled at Blodwyn’s clothes: undressing her; the calming warm water faded Blodwyn’s anger. The Lings bathed her; Blodwyn’s hair was braided with wild flowers. Narlings, Maylings, Sislings, and Silkies experimented with her make-up box. Soon Blodwyn was dressed in Ling finery of blue, yellow and green: she felt wonderful!’

Blodwyn returned to Grunwalde who was still stuffing her face.

‘You look lovely, Blodwyn cariad,’ says Grunwalde, letting out a great burp! All the Lings roared with laughter. ‘Did you find the Alter Dom?’ she asked casually.

‘No I did not,’ replies Blodwyn, ‘but I nearly got killed – trying!’ Blodwyn was still hungry; sitting down she helps herself. ‘Do you know there are still Malis Afar and Na Idriss in False Arcadia?’ warns Blodwyn, unaware of Karak’s and the Na Idriss’s fate.

‘This is not False Arcadia – this is True Arcadia, the Garden of Eden on the second level.’ Blodwyn suddenly remembered she had passed through a Prism Window! “So False Arcadia was only the doorway to True Arcadia!”