Septimity and The Blood Brotherhood: The Third Hilarious Glothic Tale (The Glothic Tales Book 3) (5 page)

Keeping secrets is all well and good when there is no hope of ever achieving what you secretly swore you would do when the secret day came. However, when your secret day is just around the corner, it would be nice to know who your friends really were. Kaybob Krizzle, The Puissant of Karhoonaa and President of the Grand Council was suffering from this intensely secret induced insecurity. With only a few days to the investiture or the idiot April, he was wondering, and indeed wondering very hard, as to the possibility of another or hopefully other members of the Blood Brotherhood on Gloth. The message he had just received from someone he only ever knew as ‘S’, meant that his wondering was about to turn instantly into hoping very, very hard that he had guessed correctly.

High Commander Huphnic Grundlestick was in charge of everything military on not only Gloth, but over, in and around every single one of the Twelve Sun Systems. As Supreme Commander of Glothic High Command, he was in charge of everything that saluted, flew, shot or exploded. Grundlestick was one hundred percent military, but more importantly, one hundred and ten percent Glothic. In meetings with Grundlestick, Krizzle had come to know of his pride in his Glothic ancestry and while not being derogatory ever towards the Gregorian Royal Family, whom he had sworn to protect, Krizzle gained the impression that Grundlestick’s immense pride in being Glothic was being offended by the behaviour of recent Supreme Potentates.

Krizzle started to prepare his message. His fingers trembling as he tapped out the request, hoping he had read Grundlestick correctly and had interpreted the message from ‘S’ accurately. Paying attention to copy the instructions from ‘S’ to the letter.

‘GCC 67-213 in transit. Clearance 7S – I.Ch – Orange – Romeo. Contact nil. Gloth orbit ETA 1.4.08h. Confirm.’

Krizzle read and re-read his message to make sure every letter was correct. If Grundlestick was Brotherhood Krizzle thought, he would have to understand ‘
I.Ch – Orange – Romeo’
and its reference to Ichor. If not? Krizzle decided to worry about that possibility later. One last check and he sent the message – with his fingers crossed.

A few seconds later, High Commander Huphnic Grundlestick smiled a wry half military smile. Finally he knew. Kaybob Krizzle, The Puissant of Karhoonaa and President of the Grand Council was Brotherhood. ‘At last,’ he thought to himself, as he immediately gave special clearance for Glothic Cosmic Cruiser 67-213 to proceed to Sun System One and Glothic orbit for urgent maintenance. He then sat back and started to look forward to the idiot April’s investiture. And Ichor.

Krizzle sat in his office, nervously waiting for a reply to his message. If he had guessed incorrectly, he had just sent his own death warrant. His secretary knocked and entered. ‘Not now,’ Krizzle snapped and sent his secretary on his way with a wave of his hand. Once the door closed, he sat with his elbows on his desk and his fingers supporting his chin. The waiting and silence almost unbearable. It was only a few minutes, yet it felt like hours, when he finally let out a huge sigh of relief. A one-word message that read
‘Confirmed.’

Krizzle then tapped out a new message with his hands still shaking.
‘S. Confirmed.’

*****

‘Pink! Pink! Pink! I want pink!’ April screamed as Sone Swifftli endeavoured to make the final adjustments to April’s blue investiture robes.

‘I don’t want blue!’ he screamed.

‘We will not have of that young Sir,’ Kcrikklli Kcaapaak said and looked towards January for support.

‘But April darling, blue is for emperors. Remember?’ she said, and was relieved to have her man-in-waiting for support during the fitting. As was Sone Swifftli.

‘No, no no,’ April cried and started to stamp his feet.

‘Much more to do? Kcrikklli asked Sone.

‘Almost done Mr Kcaapaak.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ January said. ‘These fittings have been just awful and very upsetting for my darling April.’

‘Mummy! I want to go home.’

‘Yes darling. Soon.’

‘I want to go now!’ April screamed and went to jump from the stool he was standing on. Kcaapaak however was ready and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and held him in place as Sone finished the last of his stitches.

‘Just a few moments longer young sir,’ Kcaapaak said quietly as he squeezed harder on April’s neck as he squirmed.

‘I don’t know what I would do without you Kcrikklli,’ January said with a glowing smile. Not noticing that her man-in-waiting was close to fatally choking her darling son.

‘I do my best m’am.’

‘All finished,’ Sone announced with relief.

‘Oh wonderful,’ January smiled and looked at her son. ‘April the First. The Supreme Potentate of the Gloth and its Twelve Sun Systems,’ she said as if dreaming. Which she must have been as she still hadn’t noticed that Kcaapaak’s grip on April’s neck was still firmly in place and April’s face was taking on a light blue tinge due to his inability to breathe.

‘Right young sir. Almost time for dinner,’ Kcaapaak said as he slowly released his hold and April leapt from the stool and ran to his mother. Still unable to speak through his coughing and spluttering as he tried to regain his ability to breathe once again.

‘Good evening m’am,’ Sone said with relief as January and April left the room and decided a goodbye to April would be a wasted gesture. Once the door closed he started to tidy his things. ‘I don’t know how you do it Kcrikklli.’

‘Nor do I Sone.’

‘At least I don’t have to attend the monster’s investiture.’

‘Thank you for reminding me of that. Something I am indeed dreading.’

‘Suppose it will be difficult to keep him in a choke hold for two hours.’

‘Now there’s a pleasant thought Sone.’

‘Yes. Choked to death before he can be sworn in.’

‘An even more pleasant thought.’

April the First was neither a date nor a title that many were looking forward to. Unhappily for those, the day arrived and almost fittingly was a typical early April day. Wet, cold, windy and lamentably miserable. For others, this was truly a day to get excited about and no amount of wind and rain was going to spoil it.

‘I could get used to this,’ Sep said with a big smile as he reclined his enormous leather seat in Luxury Class aboard their commandeered Cosmic Cruiser. ‘And see, there was no panic at all. Two days was plenty of time in the end. Lieutenant Commander Smikkle told me that it would’ve taken three days if this was the original version Cosmic Cruiser. But this new model is equipped with the latest protection shields that allows it to travel at a much higher velocity, therefore it can navig……’

‘Oh shut up Sep, I get the idea. Just a pity really.’

‘What is?’

‘Luxury Class is much better with silver service and Fozzoxly,’ September grunted.

‘What’s that?’

‘Chilled Fozzoxly is something akin to champagne but so much better.’

‘I’ve never heard of it.’

‘It’s made from the fermented liquid contents of the man eating Oxlypyriad flower found only on the planet Sckidd.’

‘Maybe another time then,’ Sep said, not really understanding what September was talking about.

‘Have you checked with commander what’s his name about our arrival time?’

‘Lieutenant Commander Smikkle.’

‘Whatever his name is. Have you checked?’

‘When we boarded he told me we were on schedule.’

‘That was hours ago. Go and check with him again.’

‘Yes September,’ Sep said as he un-reclined his chair reluctantly. After a moment’s hesitation, he trod off in the direction of the flight deck. A full twenty-minute walk if he was energetic, which he wasn’t, so it was a good thirty minutes before he knocked on the flight deck door.

‘Come in,’ he heard.

‘All comfortable there in Luxury Class?’ Stikkly Smikkle asked as Sep stepped in.

‘Eh, yes. Yes, very nice. Look, it’s just that September is getting a little anxious about our arrival time. He asked me to check with you again. Sorry.’

‘Well reassure him that we are on schedule for Gloth orbit at oh-ten hundred hours.’

‘Um. Ten o’clock?’

‘Correct. By the way, this is my co-pilot Flight Leader Flipply Dripple.

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Yes, nice to meet you too sir. I hope you have a pleasant flight.’

‘Have you met the other passengers yet?’ Smikkle asked.

‘Other passengers? I didn’t know……’

‘The Lacertilian Guards. There are four squads in economy.’

‘Oh yes, sorry. I’d forgotten all about them. Silly me. I just don’t know what goes through my head sometimes.’

‘Oh don’t worry. It’s a busy time for all of us. I’m sure you have a lot on your mind right now.’

‘Eh, yes,’ Sep agreed but was embarrassed to think that he had almost nothing on his mind at all. Perhaps due to this being his first trip in space for many a clone and thousands of years. ‘I don’t travel very often.’

‘Well, you’re welcome aboard my ship any day.’

‘Thank you Lieutenant Commander Smikkle. I’d better get back to September and reassure him of your information.’

‘I’ll announce our approach to Gloth over the intercom.’

‘Thank you,’ Sep said as he closed the door and headed back. When he arrived back in Luxury Class, Sep was snoring. He thought his news could wait. As he sat quietly, he thought about his six brothers who were still manning their stations across the Twelve Sun Systems. He was the fortunate one in accompanying September while the others continued their lonely tasks that were still necessary for the success of Ichor.

All the years of planning, hoping, waiting and cloning had now come to the time for action, finally. Ridding Gloth of the Erdean gene – the failed experiment in creating humans from monkeys for profit that ended with the human species taking control of Gloth – and returning the pure blood of Gloth to power and then transporting the entire Gregorian gene pool back to where they belonged. Erde. The ugliest, most useless and by far the most warmongering planet in the entire Twelve Sun Systems.

Other matters remained on the Ichor to do list. Solving the problem of the stray Erdeans, who had wandered into the galaxy and been held on Lacertilian for all these years, waiting to be returned to their planet of origin. Returning the loyal, brave and skilful Lacertilian pilots to their rightful place as pilots for the Supreme Potentate and the governing bodies of all Twelve Sun Systems. Installing an honest and benefactorial government for the people of Gloth, led by a Supreme Potentate of stature and integrity. And allowing September his most heartfelt wish – to die happily at last – at home. On Gloth.

‘So? Are we on schedule?’ September asked as he stretched and yawned after his nap.

‘Lieutenant Commander Smikkle assured me that we’ll arrive on schedule.’

‘Good. Now all we have to hope is that all our brothers on Gloth have completed their tasks.’

‘Um. I know it’s a big secret, but how many Blood Brothers are there on Gloth?’

‘No one knows.’

‘But I thought you…..’

‘I have my few contacts, but it’s a chain of secrets that started so long ago. Each link in the chain adding links over the years. So you see…..’

A sudden explosive boom sound followed by a lot of disturbing shuddering and shaking disturbed September’s reply.

‘What was that?’ Sep asked in shock.

‘We could hope it was a stray meteor brushing the protection shields and …..’

Another equally disturbing boom interrupted September yet again.

‘Sep! Get out from under the seat!’

‘Do I have to?’

‘Get out from under there and go and see what commander what’s his name has to say.’

‘Lieutenant Commander Smikkle.’

‘I don’t care what his name is! Move Sep!’

‘Why me?’

‘You’re younger.’

‘We’re both a few thousand years old. A hundred odd years hardly counts.’

‘Sep! Move it!’

‘Yes September,’ Sep said obediently as he reluctantly started crawling along the floor in the general direction of the flight deck. Another boom halted his progress after only a few crawling steps.

Luckily for Sep’s old knees, he was saved a long agonising crawl when Flight Leader Flipply Dripple made a hurried entrance into Luxury Class..

‘We seem to have a small situation,’ Dripple said in a calm yet totally less than reassuring tone.

‘Well young man?’ September snapped.

‘It’s a squadron of Glothic Noorlac Interceptors and a Hoog Battleship. They have fired warning blasts and sent an order to hold our position. They’re now insisting on sending a boarding party.’

‘Idiots!’ September mumbled.

‘The Noorlacs?’ Sep asked.

‘No Sep. You and your layabout brothers. This situation is unacceptable.’

‘What about your contacts September? You’ve got all the biggies on Gloth,’ Sep replied and surprised himself with his forthrightness.

‘Stop your petty arguing and give me your Q’muniktor.’