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Copyright 2025 (TXu002497745)

CARNIVAL WORLD CHAPTER 40

 

Bard, wearing his Sherlock Holmes costume, walked out on the stage of The Adventurers Inn stage. Puffing on his pipe, then bowing, he gracefully doffed his hound-check British detectives cap, “O.K., kitties and doggies, get your thinking caps on and help Secret Asian Man and yours truly, me, solve the Mystery of the ‘Crashed Nazi Bell and the Dead, World War Two, German Scientist!’”
Following his bow to the audience, Orlando sat back down in his stage chair, puffed his pipe, winked and said with witty smirk, rolling a British accent around the curved black stem of his pipe, “Let the adventure begin!”
…
We looked, and found not a scrap more of paper, but I, most serendipitously, found two other valuable clues!
First, I found an empty pistol. I pulled a scrap of buckskin from my pocket and used it to pick up the weapon from under the bed. I used the cloth to collect the weapon without leaving prints. I retrieved it from under one of the bunk beds.
“Probably a Luger PO8,” offered Agent Wong. “Common German officer’s pistol in World War Two.”
I knew what it was but fumbled around looking for a stamp on the pistol. “Close, but no Zale’s cigar, Sully, it says Lugar 1907. This has got to be in mint condition. On one side, anyway. Doesn’t look like it was cleaned often, though. I think it was kicked under the bed; bottom side is all scratched up. Wait. It is script. Got it. Lugerman.com USA.”
“WOW! Lugerman.com!” exclaimed Agent Wong. “They specialize in rebuilding German Lugar’s, Colts, Mauser Broom Handles and various WW1 and WW2 guns.
“That officer must have paid several thousand for that pistol! Lugerman.com specializes in refurbishing old guns. I have heard they can personally build a one-of-a-kind pistol for you, based on several models like the 1907 military models. They have original blueprints for several famous German and American Wild West models. This World War Two officer was definitely a time traveler. I think Lugerman.com opened its doors in Pennsylvania in about 2015!”
I carefully handed Sully the pistol. I’ve seen more than a few Lugers in my life, but Luger.com is new news to me.
Sully’s photographic memory is popping into overdrive. “Classic blue rust resistant exterior with checkered walnut grips. Barrel retooled especially to use modern 45 caliber modern ammunition.” Sully cocked his head, his slanted brown eyes taking on a speculative glint as he added, “No bullets you say, Orrie my boy? Well, the scientists will be able to ascertain whether it fired a few rounds before retiring or it was empty when it was pulled out for use. Interesting.”
Sully pulled out a bigger evidence bag from another pocket of his pack, then place the American made Luger inside, then sealed it.
I continued my search for the missing typing paper fragments and found a fine attaché case wedged between the desk and the filing cabinet. I found it and placed it on the desk, but away from Sully’s torn paper puzzle.
“There is an open brief case on the floor,” offered Sully, “near the body of the dead officer. The contents of that first and open briefcase look rather mundane and sparse. Oh Peter, Paul and Mary! I am sounding like you, now, Bard. Can’t have that.”
I watched as Sully made one final adjustment to the paper fragments of a type-written page, that looked like it had been made with an old keyboard typewriter with a ten CPI Pica font.
“Looks like it was typed with an old-fashioned typewriter,” commented Sully. “One of those models with an old manual keyboard typewriter with ten CPI Pica.
“Note the hanging letters t and y. There are many missing sentence fragments. It could be worse if it were written in German. At least, since it is written in a quaint form of European English, we won’t be throwing the cow over the fence some hay! Even more quaint when you consider, after a perusal glance, that he seems to be using the British or medical journal style, end quote first, syntax.
“Dear Fraulein Maria Orsic”,
Caught myself again. Well, maybe I could have gotten by with it. I am the infamous lore bard of two planets worth of historical writings! That must be Hitler’s famous occult advisor, channeler and medium, leader of the Vril Project, Maria Orsic, born October 31st, 1895, in Zagreb, Croatia! The unbelievably beautiful Maria Orsic was the leader of the Vril girls at Nazi Germany’s SS occult academy of German officers and dark magicians at Wewelsburg castle!
She was a long way from home. How on earth did she get here? Did she come through a Star Portal? Or can a Nazi Bell time travel and port, with or without a Star Portal? Interesting how her name is close to that of Alpha Team Ranger, Maria Orsic Schmitt.
Sully continued, “I regret to inform you madam that your …to use bioengineered chemicals to kill the inhabitants of New Germany…will not…work as you have planned. Firstly, the…super nutrient content of the flora … has an off-the-scale antiox…and regenerative capacity. Most of the natives will either be totally un…or recover following a short and mild …
“Secondly, Fraulein Orsic, the natives here are not eating high…proc…foods and have not been subject to immune system toxifications introduced into food, water and inoculations. Remember, fraulein, I am trained … in the prewar German medical colleges and have medical and science doctorates…from John Hopkins, and Yale of Earth, circa 2017 to 2023.
“I have also read the laboratory medical manuscript copied from … the lab in the Ukraine, underneath … ranch of U.S. President … for all the C…d variants, from mild to lethal, also circa 2023.
I know of what I speak. Please do not undervalue… my scholarship in my area of expertise! To be blunt but comical, I did not obtain my doctorates either as honorariums nor was I just at Yale and John Hopkins on holiday!
My apologies, fraulein, for your … distemper and disagreement, with my assessment. I assume since you have not conversated with me since shortly after we dined together, that my analytical paper must have upset you.
The young children of German descent that you wish to capture from Earth and bring through the Mount Shasta and Wewelsburg Castle, and our off-planet portals… With a few modifications, your program can work efficiently”.
Sully interrupted his narration to comment, “The ink on these fragments is smeared, Bard, with a clear substance. Spittle I presume. The med techs from Zales’ command center labs will undoubtedly identify the substance later. Now I will continue the letter, Orrie.
Sully continued his recitation of the fragmented letter, “However, fraulein, and I…your reasons of Aryan purity, for proper genetic structure. It is my professional opinion that you need to add a portion of all races, and perhaps a few humanoid racial blood types, from this planet to the mix…for your gene pool in the clone warrior program”.
“The wetness and blurring of the words stop after this point, Bard.
Sully continued his narration, “Moreover, you must split the original children into several groups and keep them separated. You must also have a program in place to birth new babies, who when they are older, may be used to donate new blood to the program.
If you don’t upgrade your plan, and separate the groups, and add new blood constantly, the clones shall develop a wasting disease of some type, and they shall be prone to mental and physical defects! Which undermines your program!
“Your …K…ultra and ritual abuse…altar formation conditioning shall only exacerbate the problems! Such methods are brutish. Cannot you find more humane methods of installing obedience and loyalty?
“And you need to bring the maintenance robot to repair the food replicator machine! The nanobots are no longer realigning the unit properly. The replicators are no longer producing quality…and immune system enhancement. The children and adults need quality food. That issue shall only exacerbate the inferiority problems of mind and body and the potential for the wasting disease… I have already warned you”…
Sincerely,
Yours at Hitler’s service, Dr. F …Hanns K….r
I limited myself to the comment, “Interesting. He sounds like a scientist, but one who may have been torn between coldly doing his job and fighting his conscience.”
“Maybe,” replied Sully with a frown, “you are engaged in wishful thinking and maybe you are making an insightful observation. We shall see. Let us open the hidden attaché case.”
“I put the letter together. You pick the lock to the attaché case,” said Sully. He added with a roll of his eyes and more than a hint of cynicism, “You fantasy role playing Ranger slash Bards do have some lock picking skill, I presume?”
I offered, “Yeah. Yeah. Laugh it up, Sully my boy. I suppose that key is for the desk and not the hidden attaché case.”
“Be my guest Orrie,” snarked Sully with a dramatic gesture to the slide drawer on the desk.
I spun the attached chair to the side, pulled out the desk key, sat down, and spun the chair back around. I tried it in the attaché case’s keyhole. When the key did not turn in the lock I mumbled, “Well, Sully my boy, it was worth a try. I can pick locks, or” I paused for effect, drum roll please, “there is Sum Ting Wong! I’ll have you know, that I am not so proud that I am unable to admit that that skill is not my area of expertise.”
Sully pretended nonchalance.
I swung my pack from my back and pulled out the small thin leather wallet with my lockpicking kit from a side pocket. With a scowl at the overly amused Sully, yours truly clicked the picks a few times and muttered under my breath. It took me longer than I would like to admit. It didn’t help when Sully quipped, “Some Ting Wong? What’s up, Mr. Fantasy Role Playing Ranger Bard? I know that Bards and Rangers don’t have half the lock picking ability of a Thief character, but I think your newest Bounty Hunter girl could probably have picked that by now.”
“Yeah. Yeah. This is real life and that is a game!”
Sully chuckled, “I’m getting bored. Maybe I should open it. I am trained in lock picking you know, but as an Air Borne Ranger, former spy, not as a fantasy role playing multi class ranger and bard.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Keep it up, Secret Asian Boy. Just give me a minute! I am almost there.” I mumbled a few more times and heard the click that signified my success.
I flipped the lid of the case, then exited the attached desk chair, and dramatically motioned to the freshly opened case. Inside was an embossed German Eagle Nazi symbol, in jeweler’s silver, stamped on the fine leather interior.
Still wearing his vinyl exam gloves, Sully pulled out a fine golden pocket watch and a nice silver pen and set it aside on the desk. Next, he found gold cuff links and removed them. He pulled out a picture of a born-with-a-silver-spoon in her mouth lady – late twenties is my estimate – wearing a graduation cap, holding a fancy leather diploma. The bell-shaped gown was Yale Blue with green facing, with bell sleeves and three velvet bars on each sleeve. The gown barely concealed a strikingly pretty girl. Tall, thin, and blond. Beautiful smile.
Yale University, built in the neo-gothic style, boasted of park-like commons, that formed a picturesque background for the lovely medical doctoral graduate. With an appearance that exquisitely portrayed an ambience of 13th century Venetian palaces, that famous backdrop was characterized by polychrome stonework and angular medieval architecture, replete with crowned towers. Secret Asian Man flipped over the back of the photo, “with love, to my best boy, Fred, Andrea Perkinssen Kemmler.” A slight pondering hmmm, escaped Sully’s throat, as he sat the photo onto the desk.
Next, Sully examined a colored photo of three young children, dressed casually in emerald pullover blouses and chocolate brown skirts. The young boy was wearing a pastel yellow button-down shirt and brown corduroy short pants. The photo was stamped October 2018. The clothes did not look like Walmart specials. Maybe Kohls or JC Penny or Aeropostale.
I watched Sully flip over the back of the photo and read the stamped date. Then he read the names of the children and the hyphenated number that followed. The numerals probably represented their ages. Hanns Peter, four, Mary Megyn, three and Esmerelda Zelda, two, written in fine flowing script. Each was carrying, or as far as Esmerelda, parked beside her, a Legend of Zelda Day Pack, but each with a different character display.
Sully pulled out a manilla file from the top folder pouch that contained a manuscript with observations on material mentioned in the ripped letter shreds on the table. Included were 8 x 12 color photos of three groups of children, all of them Caucasian and mostly blue eyed labeled American and German children procured for the Orsic Clone Project.
Sully pulled out two passport books, one written in German, stamped several times with dates from 1939 to 1944, with German, several European stamps and Argentinian stamps. The old German passport had the name Fredrick Hanns Kemmler. The other passport with a date of 2017, written in English contained Canadian and various European stamps, with a New Haven, Connecticut address. Paper-clipped to the American passport was a Connecticut state driver’s license. The name on the modern passport was Fred Hanns Kemmler.
Secret Asian Man showed them to me briefly, then placed them neatly on the desk. Sully pulled out small clips of old German Mark notes and another money clip with about four hundred dollars in American fifties and twenties dated between 2022 and 2024. There was also a blue coin purse with mixed old German silver coins: 3 Reichsmarks, 5 Mark Zepplins and 10 Reichspfennigs. Seven Danzig Guldens were kept in the small leather pocket that held the blue coin purse. Another red one with mixed quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies was in a separate small pocket. Ten silver dollar coins and 20 gold eagles barely fit into the pocket that held the red coin purse.
There were several sheets of pink and brown stationary with a Japanese Garden scene. Another sheet, neatly folded, contained the scientific formula for the cure for the air dispersed toxin. There were two addressed letters. One, on the business envelope, was a postal box address, with the name Sanctuary Club Secretary, ahead of the address. The other address was written on the stationary envelope, to a cul-de-sac address, in an expensive gated condo in New Haven, Connecticut, not too far from Yale University.
On the backs of two Yale University business cards, with Skull and Bones images, and no writing on the face, were written on the obverse with the alpha numeric address for the Star Portal address between New Schwabia 2 and Antarctica Earth, as well as addresses for Mount Shasta in Western America and Wewelsburg castle of Northwest, Westphalia, Germany.
Last, Sully pulled out a leather-bound journal from the bottom file pocket of the attaché case. Inside was an unfinished note, of two pages, to his wife, Andrea, written prominently in modern American English with a scattering of common German expressions like bitte and danke. There was also a light green card of a Japanese Garden scene and five pages of the pink and brown stationary envelope, written in a fine, masculine, English cursive, with a few smatterings of German.
“Dearest Andrea, my loving doe, my eternal love, my Proverbs 31 woman,
“Ja bitte, convey my paternal love to our three cherubs, Hanns Peter, Mary Megyn, and little Esmerelda Zelda. I hate the things I have been forced to do for the Fatherland and I think I have come up with a plan to rescue the three groups of children held off planet.
“I am going to send copies of the scientific formula to reverse the aerial toxin Maria Orsic plans to release on New Germany. I will send the papers to the Kingdom of the White Dwarves and a letter.
“I believe that it is the being I call ‘The Entity’, more than the fraulein herself, who wants to widely disperse the toxin over the whole of New Germany or ‘The Borderlands’. Although maybe she is like that young Star Wars character, in your favorite movie, of that series, who was willing to enslave people, and force them against their will, for their own good, to follow his laws, for their own protection and betterment. Young Ani seemed sincere.
“Maybe Maria Orsic is like that. Wie. I don’t know.
When her eyes roll back and the black vapor rolls out of her mouth and nostrils, ‘The Entity’, takes full control of her. By personality, she is every inch the innocent Disney princess our little cherubs love to watch on their movie disks. But every time she goes into that trance, to get the information on alternate history or advanced technology, ‘The Entity’ takes more and more control of her.
“As I have told you, dear heart, Orsic is a polyglot and a grandmaster of science, both natural and esoteric, but I am afraid she has made a Faustian covenant, which she shall, and I mean shall, rather than will, come to regret.
“The Thule representative informed me that she is not a con artist like so many men and women of alleged occult power, really parlor tricksters, who they have investigated. Herr Hitler does not trust her and has her watched constantly, but he has been promised that Orsic will provide all the history and advanced technology he wishes for and more.
“The Thule representative has Herr Hitler’s word that if she is discovered to do or say anything meriting punishment, that it will not be him or his people who bring punishment. Knowing the Thule society, Orsic will be too valuable to sacrifice.
“By their covenant for every evil deed they do, they must do another good deed of equal value to balance out the Scales of Eternity, to be worthy of their next assignment. So, if she does do something Hitler does not like, and for all his faults and his temper, he will keep his word. At worst, if Orsic will be imprisoned, she will be a captive audience at her gilded cage and the darling of the secret meetings. Yes, dear heart, but at good surroundings, with all the books, writing materials, and the best alchemist laboratory, she can use and the finest food and clothing she desires. And I doubt she will end her daily routine of ballet dancing, taught to her by her mother, who was a master of that art.
“I should tell you what happened when I was allowed to speak in private recently, but before I did the research on her program to create the clone army. I sent her the letter. Perhaps it made her angry, as we never met again, after I sent her my report.
“Our guard, on the last day I spoke with her, was in the back room with Helga, doing what, I do not wish to know. Helga is one of the officers in charge of the women’s division of soldiers. Orsic is alone on this mission. Her Vril companions were sent on other missions or stayed channeling for the SS castle.
“They are each powerful, the Vril Maidens, but they do not provide the information, either in quantity or quality, of Maria Orsic. Whether their hair, like Samson’s, is the secret of their power, I do not know, dear heart.
“The power she possesses to meet people, and have them instantly befriend her, is the least of her powers. Only that schweinhund and stoat, Max Bauer, seems immune to that charm. He’s literally the bastard cousin of General Hans Kammlar. Or he probably wouldn’t have been given command of this mission. If the Thule society would have known, they would not have given the mission their blessing. They had another, more respectful officer in mind, but at the last minute Kammler made the call, and we were stuck with this schweinhund! Kammler’s name is close enough to my name to cause confusion. Sometimes for good, though.
“Except that Bauer’s eyes are ice blue, rather than brown, they are as hard and dull as those of my old childhood pet.
“He suffers from a genetic birth defect called orbital hypertelorism. That, as I am sure you must have read in your studies, dear heart, is a birth defect and is the result of eye sockets that don’t rotate into their normal position during fetal development.
“My guess is, if Max were not as stout as a prize pig, and his eyes weren’t so far apart, he would have been a handsome boy. I am uncertain if Ingrid is better off now or if she were still back in the camp serving the dark carnalities of the officers and soldiers. His cruelty and narcissistic behavior must make life for his common law wife unbearable most days.
“If you remember, loveliest Andrea, my rat’s name was Max, as well, and his eyes just as cold and feral and off to the side as the schweinhund. His son has eyes close together, just like his mother, Ingrid. Otherwise, she is quite attractive. Max liberated her from one of the Jewish Death Camps. He has named his son Wagner or as he says it, ‘Vawg-ner.’ Every day he plays his old record, on its highest volume, of the piece ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ in honor of his son.
“One day Max my pet had bitten me one too many times and I promised him that I would no longer protect him from Tiger, our family cat. She was an orange and smokey tabby cross and the best mouser you could ask for in your home. I was just home briefly, on holiday, from that fine British Men’s Finishing Academy, Warwick, that my parents paid, ‘eine Vermogen yearly, until I graduated. Then off to advanced prep and medical school.
“Anyway, we were alone, as the guard assigned to us, was off with Helga. What is that song you liked in High School, ‘Afternoon Delight?’ The chef had prepared a wonderful schnitzel and beef consommé soup. Paired with a fine Marsala wine. We were sitting at the officer’s dining hall. I tried to warn her about what the Thule representative had confided in me, but she just twisted one lip up, then gently waved her hand at me dismissively.
“Not long after that, to my horrific surprise, her large beautiful blue eyes rolled back into her head. Only the whites of her eyes were visible. A meager tendril of the famous black vapor escaped her mouth as a heavy masculine voice expelled forcefully from behind her ruby red lips.
“‘Ahh. I hear you my little Lutheran altar boy! No! No! No!” Maria Orsic’s long finger waved in my face as a deep, raspy, masculine voiced erupted from her throat. That dark, haunting voice vibrated like a jack hammer as it hammered, with a sarcastic and oily tone, “Have you not heard? Too much light too soon blinds, Freddie Boy! I am going to be keeping an eye on you. Two if I can spare one. I have been told that I cannot touch your family. Regretful, I admit, Freddie Boy.
“Fredrick is much too fine a moniker for a paltry worm and conflicted do-gooder such as yourself! Anyway, Freddie Boy, you have strayed at least one millimeter, if not a metric mile. Most pointedly, Fred, too far out of your God’s protection. Which makes you, whether you may admit it or not, delightfully vulnerable.
“One day soon, Freddie Boy, you shall arrive in my dominion. I promise to make every dark, hot, day memorable and never ending.
“Just for you. Don’t you feel special, Freddie Boy? You will wish to die the quiet sleep of death, but I shall not allow it. Oh, how I long for that day, Freddie Boy! Soon the man you call ‘Schweinhund’, the fat and short officer in charge, with the fat little sausage fingers, will joyfully bring your spirit man into my dark august presence.
“What a joyful day that shall be, Freddie Boy, as your lips have sung, in days of youth, to your God. Is it my fault if you have carelessly, like pigs in the muck, pummeled your Master’s pearls and the gifts He so foolishly bequeathed you, Freddie Boy? Is it my fault that you have stepped a meter or so out of your Master’s good graces and benevolent watch care?
“No, that responsibility is yours, fully and completely, my dear Freddie Boy. Yours and yours alone. Yes, Freddie Boy, my little Lutheran altar boy, make every single day count as you have very few left. You will never meet the Dark Queen, Fred, and you will never be allowed to modify my plan to build the clone army, using your softer, gentler plan.”
“Following a deep demonic laugh that reverberated in the otherwise empty ‘officers only’ dining hall, I watched Orsic’s blue eyes appear once more.
“Orsic was asking, genuine concern writ large across her face, as she worriedly implored, ‘Are you ill, my friend? You look like you have seen a graveyard ghast’!
“I lied, dear heart. I told her it was just the schnitzel combined with too much Marsala, too quickly. And that I was a bit knackered and too proud to admit it.
“As you know, dear heart, I have told you about the person, gender and age withheld, from the Thule society, who coerced Herr Hitler to appoint me as the lead scientist on this project.
“As for the White Dwarves, we traded at a Barbarian village for food and a bit of campfire cookware, and I spotted what are called Couriers. They are like the Pony Express of Cowboy and Indian days in your country, dearest Andrea. I secretly paid him in gold coins to send my message to the White Dwarf king.
“I have heard that some of their scholars can read an English that is close to the modern American variant. Wie. I do not know. They worship your – our God, but they call Him, Creator.
“Do you remember, mein Leibchin, that Harry Potter movie that the children love.
“There was an evil character called HE-WHO-SHALL-NOT-BE-SPOKEN- OF. Or something like that. The land here, where I am at, is like the United States of America, but it is not. It is THE-LAND-THAT-SHALL-NOT-BE-NAMED to the peoples here. Since it is named for the main snake deity, Ameruca, they call their country, instead, ‘The Borderlands.’
“Not the same, Andrea dearest, as your America, but with strange parallels. For example, we have an island with a city called Babylon off the east coast in your America. Here it is called East Catalina Island. Off the west coast of America is an island called Catalina. Off the west coast here is an island called West Catalina. It has a tribe of half-giants, and a race of humans called Barbarians.
“The continent where I temporarily reside, ‘The Borderlands,’ is where I now live. I have been left to guard the crashed Nazi Bell. A Pleiadian star system alien humanoid female, stole Orsic’s identity, absconded with the Star Portal jewels, on our off-planet base, crashed our bell, from space, and marooned us here! Wie. I do not know. The Dark Naga, where Commander Orsic has an alliance. Or I should say, if her gift works, that I explained earlier, as it rarely fails, she will be successful in crafting an alliance with the Dark Naga Queen Mother.
“It is rumored that the Dark Naga has a raumschiff, a spaceship, used by the Dark Atlanticean Assassins, both human and serpent human hybrids, that can operate the space craft. We lost Orsic’s raumschiff ship, she called her craft Honey Boo Boo, which was also stolen by that lying wench, Usha Goldenhair, from the Seven Sisters. Told us she was a genuine Vril Maiden from Hollow Earth, with a summer home at one of the Seven Sisters planets. Took the Haunebu craft, too. We have a second set of jewels, for the Star Portal, secreted away. That Star Portal, at our off-world base only travels to two locations, one at Western America, and the other at the castle at Westphalia, Germany, but you must choose the year, day and hour you wish to arrive. And when you return it knows the correct time that is proper for your return. I have been told that a sun flare may adversely affect your travel, but that otherwise it is safe and accurate.
“Anyway, that is what Usha the Traitor told us.
“As soon as I am able, I shall use it to send you a copy of my letter, both to my address, and the postal box that will be collected and hand-delivered to the under-ground base place of safety I have arranged for us, our children, and for our housekeeper, and her daughter. I will use that same off planet Star Portal to bring back the stolen children. I won’t be able to time travel them, as I must return to your time, but I am certain the freedom fighters I helped secure the underground Earth base, will find a place for the stolen children!
“The plans for that ship, stolen by Usha, the Haunebu, had been channeled by Orsic from the Ascended Masters. And when we built it, the ship worked. We had issues, mostly at being able to replicate and build the ship, with our limited technology, but following a few setbacks, we were successful.
“So, for now, unless Maria Orsic can talk the Dark Naga Princess into taking us back to our off-planet base, that I have been helping Maria Osric set up, we can’t even get back to the old Pleiadian space station, that we have remodeled to our needs. We won’t be doing much more remodeling. Usha took the special tools with her.
“I do know the codes though, that open various doors, Andrea dearest, including the one that opens the medical observation rooms in my lab. It sounds just like the theme song music of your favorite sci-fi television series! Not the whole sequence. And not the first few seconds, but about from four to eight seconds! I wish I could show them to you and have you whistle the tune. Just whistling, humming or hearing the actual song would do it. You would giggle, my dearest Andrea, like our cherubs, if you opened my lab doors. I miss you and the children so much!
I think, dearest Andrea, that she, the occultist Maria Orsic, plans to become the Queen and hold the same position as Adolph. They call this continent, like I said, ‘The Borderlands.” Originally it was called Ameruca or Amerika. They have some evil snake deities here. One is called Ameruca or Am-eri-ca Mor-o-nee-i! He either has a twin on Earth or he can somehow travel back and forth between our planets. Perhaps with a Star Portal?
Many of the citizens here, in the Borderlands, worship our God, but only give Him lip service. Their hearts are far from Him. But among the White Dwarves they are more fervent in their honor towards him. I plan to elicit their aid in my rescue attempt.
“As I have told you, dearest Andrea, I have a plan to rescue the three groups of children and bring them back to earth. There is a man named Nathan Reynolds, of the elite families; he turned on them to serve Jehovah and His Son, Jesus.
“It will not be easy, but with the help of Jesus and the angels, we can escape to the underground base retreat I have set up for us. It was made by the Shadow Government, but a group of freedom fighters, known as the Republic, cleaned out the base recently. Since I was instrumental in them getting the location and codes, they have promised us a sanctuary there. They will be contacting you soon. I will meet you there as soon as I am able mein Leibchin, Andrea Perkinssen Kemmler.
“Today since I have been left alone to guard…I must put away my letter and hide my secret attaché case. I can tell by the breathing it is Herr Sausage Fingers himself. He is still a few minutes away, but I can hear his heavy breathing as he climbs the mountainside. If it is a false alarm, I will finish the letter. It may be a while before I can find a way to get this letter to earth. And there is one more thing I want to tell you if I have time.
“I need to stop writing to you for now. I am hoping that huffing and puffing stoat is just here to take my place. But in the few minutes or so I have left, I will unsnap my holster, just in case. I always keep my gun loaded and ready. More importantly, I must apologize to God. Even though my motives, in joining this mission have been to make things better for the children, I have barely remembered Him, for a long time. Well, I can hear Herr Bauer huffing and puffing. He is about a minute away from the door”.
Sully concluded, “WOW! I stand corrected, Orrie my boy, he is more long-winded than you. Never thought I’d see the day. Is this a case of writer’s endless word salad as bountiful as the Golden Corral or is he just missing his family?
“Since Fredrick did not end his letter to his wife with a goodbye and his signature, I must conclude that he did not actually finish the letter. The Bell may have crashed a century or so ago, but he seems to have left his wife and family in about 2023, theoretically we might be able to locate her. If she is still alive, and it seems he only left modern America to come here not many years ago, maybe Zales can forward it to her. Other than that, Orrie my boy, all I can exclaim is: WOW!”
“Nice palindrome usage! Not that it is your first incident, today, of that specific convention,” I quipped.
Sully sighed and rolled his eyes at me. “We better call Zales!” Sully took a cell phone from his pocket that had been changed by the scientists to work on Carnival Planet. Only the Conners, Zales and his four Ranger teams, and the underground base lab techs were allowed to use them. Some earth visitors had cell phones, but they could not call on them until they returned to earth.
Sully told Zales the news of our serendipitous discovery. He was flabbergasted.
Zales exclaimed, “Just leave your evidence packets and the contents of the attaché cases on the desk. We are just finishing up our attack on the Orc Warlord. He and his lieutenants died in the battle, and we are ferrying the survivors in for their hearings. The mission was a rousing success! As soon as I am able, I will send one of the teams with a skip jack and some scientists.
“If they can’t get the anti-gravity function on the Nazi Bell working, the White Dwarf King is in my good graces for bringing steady highly paid work to his hunter gatherer crews and master craftsmen.
“If my scientists can’t get the antigravity working, the Dwarves can zap it with their anti-grav sound frequency beam and easily put it on one of their anti-gravity barges.
“I will bring it to the lab. The scientists are going to love you two for this new toy that they can joyfully poke, prod and test, and maybe even back engineer. I love it when a good pseudo-science conspiracy comes together. They will probably want to have a wine and cheese party, with rose-petal tickertape and exploding confetti for you, when you return from your mission.
“Nice find guys, but as soon as the skip jack arrives, I want you to head for the Dark Naga castle. Don’t let them spot you before you activate your new Doppelganger Tech!
“Over and out! Make it happen Sully and Bard! Make me proud!”
When the scientists arrived, with a middle-aged white Dwarf in tow, they asked us to stay on for at least twenty minutes, as they attempted to get the anti-gravity working. The Nazi Bell was dead as a door nail and the Dwarf went outside and climbed up on the sky barge, zapped the Nazi Bell with the correct audio frequency and prepared to float it up onto the sky barge.
“Did you take fingerprint samples, Ranger Wong?” Scientist Kimble, who was not a ranger, but a civilian, had collected the samples, and noted an absence of fingerprint evidence.
I looked over at the scientist. It was, indeed, Dr. Kimble. Paccetti, the scientist who had saved my bacon the first day I had met the rangers, was working on another project.
Some Ting Wong answered, “That equipment was not included with my mission gear. Nor did I foresee the need for such equipment. As you know, Dr. Kimble, there is only so much gear that we can carry and for this kind of mission, infiltrating an enemy encampment, does not expect to need an Investigative Services Kit. That is why you scientists are assigned by Zales.”
Kimble just shrugged her shoulders and rather than replying she dusted the empty officer’s pistol holster and the letter fragments, then read the prints with her scanner.
“We have a hit? Much faster than I expected. We have a medical doctor. A male German. Fredrick Kemmler. And we have an interpol result of a German soldier named Max Bauer. Wanted for war crimes. Never found; assumed too old to be still living.” Kimble brought up a photo of a moon-faced German man with wide eyes. She added, “Look at those fingers. Widest fingerprints, on a human, that I have ever seen. His fingers must have been wide as German frankfurters. And they do not match the prints on the Luger. It doesn’t look like any bullets were fired. The owner is not the most diligent cleaner of his firearm, but my guess, is that he did not fire a single shot. I will not know for certain until I examine it in the ballistics lab.”
“Yes, Dr. Kimble, that will be interesting to find out what your ballistics analysis finds. However, concerning the size of sausages, no, I beg to differ Dr. Kimble,” said Sully. He added, as Kimble’s eyes narrowed from behind her narrow, half-lensed reading glasses, “Frankfurters are not much wider than an American hotdog. Knockwurst is more like it. Those prints are Max Bauer’s. If you read the letter on the pink stationary, Dr. Kemmler says that Max Bauer’s fingers were as thick as sausages. He didn’t mention the word Knockwurst, but I have been to Germany – modern Germany – many times. And I have sampled wieners, frankfurters and sausages and brats. Both in Germany and America. The slimmer brats from America, not the longer, thicker ones, are probably about like a Knockwurst. But they vary in size, depending on such factors as time, culture and butcher.
My guess is that knockwurst or the smaller American stadium brat is the size of Max Bauer’s fingers. We have neither Max Bauer’s corpse nor a detailed medical report, so Dr. Kimble, your guess is as good as mine. If it weren’t for the operational analysis report in your scanner, all we would have here, is an educated guess, that Max Bauer was probably the man who murdered Fredrick Kemmler.
Kimble nodded, sighed and replied, “I stand corrected. Concerning sausages.” She smiled, a half-smile, elevating the mole near her lips, “And I agree, Ranger Sully, with your assessment, concerning the probable altercation scenario between Officer Max Bauer and Scientist Fred Kemmler. It seemed as well that you were hinting that I will find that Kemmler’s pistol, in addition to not having modern .45 caliber American made ammo, unless the used ammo was collected, the brass was policed, is the proper terminology, I believe…anyway, my best guess is that Kemmler’s Luger will be found not to have been fired, prior to the incident. And I will note your salient observations, the ones that really have merit, as far as this investigation, Ranger Wong, in my report.”
“No one wants to end a fine party, ladies and gentlemen, doggies and kitties, but Secret Asian Man and I need to get going. I want this mission over with as quickly as we can. Smelling snake oil ruins my meals,” I concluded as I left.
We signaled to the Dwarf. The plump little Dwarf grumbled and complained loudly, “Aboot damn time! Almost had to frrriggin’ zap yourrr lost bell ship again! You Rrrangers are slow as frrriggin’ molasses cookie syrrrup kept overrrnight in the frrridge!”
Sully and I sprinted across a bare field that ended in a copse of blue fur trees and activated. It was nice to give our four dogs a rest and float like a Naga. But ohh the smell! I hope I can get my gag reflex through it, or I may not finish this mission. How does Sully put up with it? If he was as green around the gills as I am I’d be asking him, “Some Ting Wong? You look a bit peaked, Sully my boy. He is scowling and grimacing a bit, but that is all. I hate this stink! And I was just starting to like Southern Fried Chicken and Mashed Potatoes again!
This stink is as bad as a West Virginian Wood Booger during the Dog Days of Summer. Although, I do think that giant with the dolphin chitter attack we killed during the White Dwarf Mission was worse. Toughin’ up buttercup! You can do this!
Kind of reminds me of that old earth song by Lynyrd Skynyrd, “That Smell.” Of course, Ronnie Von Zant wasn’t talking about cryptids in his song. “Ooh that smell. Can’t you smell that smell…” But those words and that title says it all!

CARNIVAL WORLD, CHAPTER 41

Bard strolled casually out on his stage dressed in a black snakeskin suit, a glittery red ascot and black leather pants. Rather than wearing a fancy cap and ignoring the locked costume cap case next to his red cushioned stage chair, Orlando strolled onto the set wearing a black dreadlock wig. “Greetings and Salutations, boys and girls, kitties and doggies.” He played an energetic snake charming song with his reed panpipe. “Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, you are in for a real treat. Beautiful Naga ladies! Adventures in the dark! A dancing girl and a fancy soiree! Giant muscled snake men with four arms and double-bladed axes! And, drum roll please, a new nickname for Some Ting Wong!
Let the adventure begin!”
…
I watched as Sully placed his M107 50 caliber rifle in oil skin, then covered that bundle in a cloth case, and wrap it in canvas. He then placed his ammo in a separate plastic bag, then concealed it in a hollow fallen tree. After activating a digital tracker device, and pinning it to the rifle case, he threw handfuls of leaves over the but end of the rifle case and ammo bag to conceal it.
We followed a game trail through the conifer forest, giving each other a visual once over to check to see if the advanced tech devices had disguised us as half-human, half serpent Naga beings. When we conversed, we thought in American English, but the words came out as the hissing, British India Indian words of Ophidian.
The Naga snake oil stench was almost making me wretch. Sully looked irritated, but the odor seemed only to bother the special forces ranger minimally. For this former special agent ranger, yours truly, me, I must admit, the scent was obnoxious to the point that it was really putting me off my game. I felt slow and sluggish, distracted, and soon to become irritable.
As the game trail came to the edge of the forest, we stepped, I mean floated, out onto a larger path and onto a mountain trail. Naga, while in their half-human form can wriggle forward like a snake with their tails. Usually, however, they use their natural mental psionic ability and float, in their direction of choice. And when they charge, or jump, their speed is phenomenal, for short distances.
We could see the imminent black Naga Castle in the distance. Up and beyond the top of this high craggy hill of scattered mixed hardwood, that skirted the black and brown tiles of the cobblestones, we could see a dark backdrop of snowy mountain peaks, swiftly donning their nocturnal mantle shroud, in the looming twilight, as the sun sank behind us in the west. While I could not hear much in the way of squirrel chatter and bird chirps, the evening orchestra of insects was rising in a dark and anxious crescendo.
“We should arrive at the beginning of full dark, Sully. Hopefully we can quietly enter the castle and scout around, mingling with the guards and servants without raising a ruckus.”
Sully nodded. He stretched, yawning, leaning back on his long snake tail, scales glittering, in the muted white light of the wide moon, that was barely emerging from its diurnal slumber. Some Ting Wong flexed the muscles of his olive tan human upper torso and tensed his four bare muscular human arms.
We both seemed to be able to see in the dark, but I noticed that my vision was not the clear yet muted colors of half-elf night vision. Instead, I was scrying the world with a sharp black and white contrast, once the sun had set. That along with my struggle with the snake oil stench, was really bothering me in a way I had never experienced.
Sully motioned to me, “I see a main entrance, Bard, but there is also a small door near an old garden and fountain area.”
“Let’s check it out, Sully. I must be honest…”
My dysphoria was really bothering me, and I decided I had better let Secret Asian Man know, that he’ll have to pick up the slack. I am just not feeling myself at the moment. I continued, “I don’t know if you have noticed, Sully, but this Naga stench is really putting me off my game. I can still function, but you will need to take the lead. I don’t like to admit it, Sully my boy, but this is going to be a challenging mission. How are you able to function so well, despite the snake oil problem?”
Sully replied, “One of my former girlfriends, Orrie my boy, loved snakes. So much so that she would often bring out her pet snake and walk around with it wrapped around her. We were together for a long time, even though I was gone often on missions. Eventually, Sabrina became more, weird for lack of a better word, and really New Agey.
I just couldn’t put up with her any longer. And it was getting to the point that her pet snake was almost never in its cage. So, the snake scent doesn’t bother me that much, but I must admit, Orrie my boy, this odor is stronger than my girl’s snake’s aroma.”

We were angling off to investigate the small garden door near the right edge of the castle. The garden patio area was a bit run down like the castle walls. Although the view, except where the moonlight was bright, was like watching a black and white movie. Where the moon beams lit the way, although not as sharp as normal, my view was more like the Half Elf night vision Zazazi’s sentient computer and advanced medical technology device had given me.
Then I saw a being that I had heard about, or read stories about, but had never seen. It was chained to the gurgling fountain with a jeweled neck collar, biting into an apple. I heard the crisp sound of its bite, and my keen nose could faintly detect the juicy tang of the fruit that was released into the cool night air. The whir of tiny wings added its aural ambience to the scene as a rainbow feathered serpent, about the size of peacock, fluttered in place, quietly drumming in the night air.
The white heavily muscled monkey, its wings folded neatly behind it, leaned up against the font, then grabbed a silver coin from the waters, and flipped it up to the flying serpent. To my shock, the big white winged monkey, as it flipped the coin at the hovering flying serpent, exclaimed, with a voice like the famous actor Danny DeVito, “Thanks, Tok. That’s enough apples for my sundown snack.”
Suddenly Tok looked my way, then let go with a burst of caws, odd snake hisses and rattles, followed by a burst of cuss words in about three languages from Old British English, World War Two German and Hindi.
The white winged monkey dropped his apple and pulled out a ram’s horn, that hung from his colorful scarlet vest. Bellowing with that strange Danny DeVito voice, a few choice cuss words of his own, the monkey let loose with a sharp and shrill ram’s horn alarm blast.
Suddenly two Naga Guards, snake on the bottom, but with an upper human torso, except having four heavily muscled arms, rather than two, dreadlocks bouncing over their shoulders, jumped out of the shadows, double axes glinting in the moonlight.
One of them, the giant ebony skinned serpent man yelled, “Thisss better not be a prank alarm, Kabuki, or we are going to toss a colony of fire ants on your white furry carrrcassss! We have not forgotten when you blasted that flippin’ horn, yelling about the banished Pan goats storming the castle!”
The giant white Naga snarled, “Yeah!”
“I don’t care if your mistress,” continued the Black Naga, “the Queen, throws me in the dungeons on bread and water for a month!”
I heard Sully whisper in a confused tone, “Kabooki? Like Kabuki Theatre? This place is crazier than Alice in Wonderland!”
Both Naga warriors were over seven feet tall, their semi-transparent upper body scales glistening in the moonlight. I had read that Naga scales were almost as durable as diamonds. If they attacked, this would not be an easy battle. My star metal axe, which as I tightened my grip, looked like a two-bladed axe, would cut through those scales, but only if the blows were accurate and utilized with force. Sully had only a steel knife which would barely scratch their Naga natural armor. He might be better off using martial arts moves against them in a battle.
The guard that yelled at us was a handsome black man, his teeth lighting up his face. The other was Caucasian, but just as buff, down to the six-pack abs, with two long muscled arms, rather than four, but as thick as Sully’s thighs.
“SSSTOP right there, Twizzer! You and your little brother have been absent without leave again. The Queen is really whizzed at you two. This is the second time you both snuck off and went native again! This is the second time you have gone off on holiday! Without permissssion! You’ve been gone three months! We have orders to take you to the Queen immediately if you hauled your sorry scaled carcasses back here. We heard her say, Twizzer, that if you and Zeeter go off galivanting again, without leave, she’s going to put you in pain collars! Lucky you are, snake boys, that she is so desperate for eggs, or we’d be trotting you off to the dungeons to rot in your chains or the both of you sorry louts would be bowing for the headman’s cleaver!”
The other soldier, the white-skinned guard, snapped, “Yeah! And I ain’t letting you sneak in the back door again. Last time it was bread and water for thirty days, Twizzer. Follow me. Both of you. Now!”
I looked at Sully, who was just as shocked as I was, but we meekly followed Sssheej, the Naga guard, before the Queen.
The throne room was huge, with scattered chocolate brown leather Kline couches, like those found in ancient Greece. The backs curved up gently, and you could either sit or recline in them while eating. Many of them contained colorful throw pillows.
Human and Naga slaves bustled back and forth between the guests with trays of snack foods and alcoholic beverages. The Naga females had only two arms, so their upper bodies were very human like. Most of the warrior class Naga were huge brutes with four human arms, and scaley, hairless, bullet heads. A few Naga males had only two human arms, which I found out later meant that at least one parent was full human.
The four-armed black Naga that had first greeted us, while his body had been that of a typical Naga Warrior, his face had been entirely human. And he had a full, luxurious head of jet-black dreadlock mane. I can remember only starry glints of white sparkle on his ebony cheeks and along his titanesque chest and six-pack belly.
Most warrior class Naga possessed human heads that were a mix of human and reptilian features. Their chins were scaled flinty points. Other, smaller Naga, from the waist up, were often indistinguishable from humans, except for fine sparkly glints scattered like diamond glitter atop their skin.
Sully and I, disguised by the advanced technology devices, slithered on our thick muscular snake tails into the royal chamber, behind the monstrous hybrid Naga warrior whose name was Sssheej. While Sssheej had the typical bald and scaled bullet head of a Naga Warrior, his face was very human.
Like a human, he had only two arms, but when unfurled from his huge double-bladed axe, I surmise that his hands, larger than mine, would hang just below where his knees would be. Momentarily the Warrior Naga called Sssheej would present us to their queen. Chuckling, which came out like a hiss mixed with the rattling of a gourd instrument, I compared his name with that of the term siege engine. What an apt comparison, I added, but only within the confines of my mind as no whisper rumbled past my lips.
Huge fires crackled and popped inside the mammoth fireplaces, filled with long, red, blowing, spitting and whizzing, crackling logs, that surrounded the stony edges of the throne room. The aroma that billowed out into the throne room had the tang of conifer mixed with red oak.
Above me I could see stars through gaping holes that were scattered along the castle ceilings.
A band of musicians played Adrian von Ziegler style music with harps, flutes and zithers, using the DADGAD frequency, or what I call Celtic tuning. I use that often myself.
Everyone present, stopped and stared at us, as we were formally introduced before the queen. “Queen Riva,” exclaimed Sssheej with a deep bow, “the Castle Guard has located Twizzer and his brother Zeeter.”
The Queen, and not just her face, was beautiful. No snakes in her hair and two lovely arms. If I could not see her scaled snake tail with its bone white rattle, leisurely curled over her throne chair, I would have thought she was a lovely human queen reigning over a distant land.
Like Helen of Troy, her face could launch a thousand ships. Above her throne was a gigantic, flowing rune like the American letter Z. I chuckled to myself, chuckling inside my mind about that audacious letter Z, like a bold banner, flying above Riva, as she sat royally on her fine throne. Her throne, surrounded with the exotic Kline chairs, filled with beautiful, dazzlingly coiffured and cosmetically powdered young Naga ladies, reminded me of a scene from a sorority house frat party. Yeah, Madam President Zee, highest ranking lady of Zeta House, and her pampered, rich girl understudies, performing for a party round!
I thought Lady Q, our White Naga princess at Carnival City, was beautiful. Most of Lady Quetzi Quetzicoatl’s people, almost a thousand years ago, except for the young White Naga youngsters, had been killed in war by Queen Riva’s mother.
If Q has a face and body like a model, Riva was every inch a super model. Although I am not fond of snakes, her snake body possessed the most colorful mosaic of scale patterns I have ever seen. The gossamer gown that she wore over her light chocolate cream human torso barely left anything to one’s imagination. Her skin was even a shade lighter than that of my quadroon inn keeper, Charlie Girl, born from St. Kitts parents. While my innkeeper had been born in America, her family heritage was that of a British and Caribbean national blending.
I have read that Riva’s mother was an ebony skinned Naga beauty, so Queen Riva’s father must have been a white human or Naga. She’s tall enough, that if her father was a human man, he may have been a Barbarian. She’s probably six feet long from the crown of her head to support base of her rattle tail!
Her pretty face scowled, “You mean, Ssseej, that our wandering adventurers picked tonight, while you were on duty again, to grace us with their presence!” Queen Riva shook her head and her black, jeweled and feathered dreads, bounced like Medusa’s snakes in the firelight of her soiree.
With an impatient wave of her jeweled hand, Riva, her musical sultry voice laced with disdain, proclaimed, “Don’t cower, Ssseej! And you wonder why I never call you to my side for special duty! I am not going to throw you inside the dungeon at this time. Go back to guard duty before I change my mind.”
We watched the massive Ssseej float at top speed from the room, embarrassed by the gales of derisive laughter, compliments of the inebriated guests, that trailed behind the retreating Naga Guard.
Riva scowled petulantly as she tapped her beautiful red lips with her bejeweled finger as she stared at me and Sully. “Twizzer. Twizzer. Twizzer. What am I going to do with you? Let me think upon it.”
She turned, her yellow gold flecked amber eyes, with their dragon slit pupils, partially hidden behind long mascara combed eye lashes. Each luxuriant lash fluttered as the queen snapped her fingers at one of the several beautiful Naga ladies in waiting, that were curled up on Kline couches around her throne. “Igrit! You and your pet flying serpent go find the royal doctor. Tell him to bring his medical frequency analyzer. We need to find out if Twizzer and Zeeter brought back any strange diseases, like they did afore.”
The lady in waiting, called Igritti, floated off to the mazes, followed by her pet, located below the castle, to find Orotzzz, the palace alchemical technologist. Igritti, while aesthetically appealing, was probably the least pretty of all the ladies in waiting. She was, however, the most dependable and mature for her age.
Clapping her hands, Riva exclaimed, “Musicians! Play!” She briefly petted a slender winged white ape that was crouching on her throne chair arm, plucking at the end of a giant yellow banana. Ignoring me and Sully for the moment, the Queen regally preened and said, “I do have the most interesting and well attended parties, don’t I? Enjoy the show everyone!”
Then her eyes drifted back to Sully and me, and her eyes narrowed, as she glared at us. “Don’t go anywhere, Twizzer and Zeeter. I will wait until Adviser Orotzzz examines you before I decide what to do with you. But I am still considering whether I am going to snap pain collars on you, to hinder your nasty tendencies to wander off, today or…next time.”
Queen Riva motioned to the nearest servant girl, a human wench, attractive, but not anywhere near as much as the queen or her throne attendants. “Quickly. Bring our tardy party favors food and drink while they await their examination and final sentencing.”
Queen Riva shifted her snake tail to a new angle and attended to the musicians, who had switched into a rousing martial piece. The musical group, composed of three Naga Snake Men, with two arms each, and two human women, dressed in conical Phrygian style caps, and shimmering metallic gowns, bowed to the Queen, and sat their instruments carefully onto polished wooden stands.

The leader, his dark dreads bouncing as he removed his leather cap, with its jeweled snake motif, spoke into the microphone, “Thank you, Queen Riva, for allowing my group, Ophidian Classics, to play for you this evening. If you want to hear more from us, visit us at the Snakes Cauldron Inn in the catacombs.
“We are going on break and will return in about thirty minutes, give or take. While we are gone, one of Queen Riva’s serving ladies, who sings and dances at the inn occasionally, the dazzling Xeenya, is about to share with you one of her most called for songs called, “Dancing on the Trolley, Bet You Think it is a Folly!”

As the Ophidian Classics group filed off from the stage near the throne, Riva’s lady in waiting, Xeenya, greeted with several raucous cheers, slithered beautifully to the stage and grabbed the microphone. Behind her, three Naga ladies in waiting, sister servants of the queen, followed her. They slithered to a position in the band box. Their pet flying serpents followed them.
Xeenya grabbed the portable microphone. One Naga picked up a flute, another a zither and the third brought her own instrument which resembled a saxophone. The three played the peppy and audacious tune which most of the gathered revelers recognized. Their rainbow feathered flying serpents trilled musically as they darted and shimmied, with great panache, along with the music.
Xeenya, the Naga with the microphone, was an attractive, slender chocolate woman, about five ten in height. She wore a scarlet crew top of fine silk. From just below her muscled tummy to the top of her orange Raggedy Ann dreads, she was human. From just below the top of her thighs, she possessed Red bellbottomed pantaloons, with a single tube, rather than two, that covered her snake tail. Silver bells, attached to her silky tail covering, flashed in the firelight, and tinkled with her every slinking movement. A white diamond peaked and winked from her bellybutton. While her skin was a glowing creamy dark brown, her facial features were very fine, and a cute pointy nose was delicately perched above her wide sensual lips. Little flashes of pinhead diamond, matching her tummy winker, flashed from the exposed areas of her skin, flickering as she moved.
Following a quick bow, Xeenya snapped up the portable microphone, then she leaped dramatically, onto a nearby food trolley, with all the smoothness of a professional dancer, and rolled to a stop, jumped again, then landed on top of a nearby table, startling the guests who were drinking around the wide round circumference of the table.
Dancing rhythmically, reminiscent of a beautiful human cobra, Xeenya’s strong, melodious vocals reverberated in the halls of the throne room as she performed with unparallelled energy and focus. Her three friends played their instruments in accompaniment. Not many lines into their rendition the crowd began to cheer and sing along with gusto. The rainbow flying serpents, perfectly imitating Xeenya’s beautiful voice, but slightly out of sync, turned the singer’s vocal sound into a dynamic stereo effect.

“Dancin’ on the trolley, bet you think it is a folly!
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!
“Hold on tightly, tightly! Nibble, bitey, bitey!
“Dance my eager hatchlings! Dance!
“Things are gettin’ really wet!
“And things are just about to go south! Wayyy south!
“Dancin’ on the trolley! Wanna be my dolly?
“I ain’t just singin’ with my mouth!
“Do ya think I am pretty? Wanna get to know me?
“Dancin’ on the trolley, wiggle, wriggle, jolly, jolly!
Dancin’ on the trolley, wiggle, wriggle, jolly, jolly!
…
Following the sultry and spirited song of the hot and beautiful Naga singer and dancer, I found myself clapping excitedly with the audience. She’s good! I’d like to book her at my inn. Not on a family night, mind you, but she can really draw out a crowd!
Xeenya bowed and the audience cheered, as she back flipped back onto the musician’s stage and replaced the portable microphone on its stand.
Queen Riva clapped, hooted loudly, like a three-hundred-year-old teenager, and danced above her own throne as she welcomed and congratulated her lady in waiting. “Thank you, Xeenya and the rest of the band!
“My ladies in waiting, guests,” exclaimed the queen, “are not just pretty faces! They are smart, uniquely gifted and talented! My court ladies merit their positions. If they weren’t special in their own right, they would just be scullery maids and serving wenches. Everyone give a hearty round of applause for my courtesans!”
While Sully and I drank a sweet red wine and snacked on boiled eggs with roasted beef chunks, pineapple and pepper on a stick, we watched the throne room antics and waited for doctor Orotzzz. We declined to eat the live mice and geckos that were being trotted around on a cart by a small Naga woman with orange and purple hair. Next a flying serpent flew over to us with a braided basket of bananas and a second one, bearing another basket, brough fuzzy pink and red peaches.
An old Naga woman, still attractive, but with a few wrinkles on her face, and graying featherings of white nestled in her black dreads, appeared. Just for the sake of playing my temporary cover, I beckoned her over.
She had rolled her cart of crayfish and silver minnows over to Sully and me. I smiled at her, rubbed my belly, and pointed to a silver minnow. The softly aging Naga lady smiled back and netted three silver minnows, then served them to me in a paper cup. Sully rolled his eyes and said, “I have eaten my share of fish and crickets, lately, nahin dhanyavaad! No thank you, serving wench, I shall pass,” as he chewed around his skewer and nibbled a smoky morsel of auroch fatty meat and green pepper. The language spoken in Dark Naga province of Carnival World was Ophidian, also called Snake Tongue, a language that was a mixture of hisses and rattles blended with a combination of Earth Hindi and Colonial British.
Finally, the promised physician Orotzzz appeared. Snake on the bottom, the top of his body was an old man, bald, with wire-rimmed glasses perched on a long sharp nose. There was a small, black, advanced technology machine cradled under one of his four arms.
That box caught my attention. Alarm bells sounded in my mind as I gasped involuntarily. My sudden intake of breath brought the acidic reflux taste of fishy chyme burning my throat. Was that a psychotronication unit? A remote scaler interferometry advanced technology machine?
Back when I was an anomalies ranger on earth, I had requested a doctor of the Priest of Melchizedek order, with a double degree in Holistic and Standard Medicine, Dr. Rebecca Medford-Gilberts, to be my medical specialist. One of her medical machines, which she referred to as a Radionics Analyzer, that she kept in her clinic, looks amazingly like what he is carrying under his arm. Not that the brand name would be the same, but the size, shape and number of dials and toggle switches…the similarities were uncanny!
Would the doctor be able to see through the advanced technology disguise devices that Agent Sully and I are wearing and know that we are human? Not directly, I am thinking, but will his sharp mind put all the puzzle pieces together and allow him to pierce our disguises? I hope not.
He floated up to us, five feet and six inches of wrinkly greenish brown skin, and wrinkles upon wrinkles, squinting at each of us in turn, then signaled for a server to bring over a food trolley. Orotzzz gently placed the unit on the empty wheeled table, flicked a switch and rolled a few dials.
Igritti tagged along behind him, deftly lifted a fluted glass of champagne from a lady naga floating by with a silver tray of fizzing libations, then found her Kline next to the Queen’s throne and began chattering about some juicy court gossip with the pretty Naga on the next curved couch.
I looked at Sully. He stopped eating his most recent kebab, this one with cheese, pork, apple slices, table onion bulbs and cherry tomatoes. Even through the disguise I could tell Sully was deeply concerned.
“You would think,” snarked the Queen, at Dr. Orotzzz, that an alchemical engineer and gadgeteer of your aptitude, that you would not suffer from a lack of dreads and the need for corrective lenses!”
Orotzzz snorted, “You are the Queen! But don’t forget, princess, that I was your mother’s royal physician, and advisor for several hundred years. Back when you had a gluteus like a human, above a tiny serpent’s coil, I spanked your royal behind, when we popped you forth from the egg, a bit before your natural time!
“Yes, you are the Queen, Riva Zzzillzzzaga, but I am an old Naga, old as the hills! My brain is sharp as a tack, but I can no longer see well, and I have lost most of my sphincter control. My medicinal arts have prolonged my life a sesquicentennial beyond the natural life span of a Dark Naga. Either let me do my job princess or kill me, so that I can sleep the long sleep of peace.” Orotzzz threw his spindly snake-like arms, fingers wiggling like clumps of sea anemone, in an impatient, careless gesture.
Riva frowned thoughtfully, but merely chuckled, “If you weren’t like a favorite Uncle, Orotzzz, I’d throw you in the dungeon for your impertinence.”
Orotzzz snorted again, but just turned the cart toward Sully. Orotzzz grimaced, squinted through his dusty thick-lensed glasses and fiddled with the controls on the frequency analyzer. “You’ve been eating too much venison and not enough mouse! Your body does not utilize black pepper or lettuce well, Twizzer. Have you considered significantly decreasing your intake of white rice? If you don’t break the habit before you get older, you’ll regret it young Twizzer!” A small alarm bell on the unit began beeping. “I am old but not deaf, machine, I see it! Just give me a moment to change the frequency…”
The room was dark and Orotzzz had his eyes glued onto the machine, but just for a moment, as the octogenarian – talking centuries not decades – spun the dial, Sully’s form began to grow dull then strong, sharp then fuzzy, several times, and for a second or so, I could see, dimly, Sully’s worried human Asian features. Our advanced technology disguise devices had struggled to defeat the frequency device and had barely succeeded. I stilled the impulse to whisper my overused query, to American Special Ops Agent Sully Tingerius Wong, to utilize his old nickname, and query sarcastically, “Sum Ting Wong?”
“There. I got you,” rasped Dr. Orotzzz, spitting phlegm out of his momentarily clogged throat, “Remember, Twizzer, the waters are clean here, but some ponds and rivers still have a parasite or two. That was a most vile and putrid form of pucinara and it was forming a colony in your colon and bladder.”
Orotzzz grumbled and shook his head, then like a Dutch uncle, he waved his short pudgy fingers at Twizzer, “I may not always be around, Twizzer, to keep you healthy. And you are lucky that Maria Orsic, may she rot in the Seven Hells, didn’t find this when she absconded with our Assassins guild, our Atlanticean Cruiser, and half of my high tech medical and alchemical devices—”
Riva angrily slapped the glass of white wine from the arm of her throne. It bounced off from one of her ladies in waiting and busted with a loud tinkle on the stone floor. A human cleaning lady burst from the shadows with a dustpan and broom, then cleaned up the broken glass, as Riva ranted, “Don’t whiz me off, Orotzzz! I told you never to mention that traitor’s name, in my presence, adviser!
“I don’t give a rat’s sphincter about your precious high-tech toys, but she betrayed me! We were like best friends. She was prettier than my ladies in waiting. Almost as beautiful as me!
“We took baths at the sauna. We had our servants dress us! We chatted with the ladies-in-waiting and my staff. We planned the most wonderful parties! We had our hair and makeup done together every morning over tea and scones! If my mother had not been bed-ridden and barely alive, most of the time, they would have been scheming together to take over the world!
“I wish they would have been busy trying to take over the world, then Orsic would not have cared one iota about developing a friendship with me, that she would later callously spurn. I will admit it. I am vain. I am self-centered. But I am not evil!
“I am a nicer Queen, Adviser Orotzzz, than my mother ever was. The difference is like night and day. I am more like my elderly Barbarian prisoner father. I light the night with logs, not oiled bodies. Nor do I want to make Dark Atlanticean sacrifices and kill and subjugate people. Mine or those of other kingdoms! I just want to live life and have fun!
For just a moment she had focused, most petulantly, I might add, on me and Sully.
Queen Riva continued, “I have no interest in those things! I love planning parties and fixing my hair and make-up and finding my next potential baby daddy! I just want everyone to leave me and my kingdom alone!”
Riva then turned her scowl back afresh at her Dark Naga adviser and royal physician, Orotzzz.
“If you mention her name again, Orotzzz, I will throw you in the dungeon, and feed you bread and water for a month! I give not a flying money’s sphincter if I grew up calling you Unca Oro!”
Orotzzz sighed heavily, and shifted awkwardly on his bent and weirdly flat and dull snake’s tail, “Fine. Fine. I admit, that was careless, Queen Riva. It won’t happen again.”
Fiddling again with the frequency medical device, Orotzzz mumbled, “Now, we are on to little brother Zeeter.” I held my breath again as the illusion around me danced and dimmed, but in the flame lightened darkness of the throne room, no one seemed to notice. The flickering chatter of the whizzing bark and popping embers from the surrounding fireplaces burned ominously as I wondered if our disguises would be pierced by a sharp pair of eyes or the gadgeteer’s advanced medical device. Acrid smoke and bitter snake oil stung my nose. I suddenly regretted slurping the minnows and gobbling the kebabs as my stomach lurched.
Orotzzz muttered darkly then screeched in his phlegmy, raspy, old man’s voice, “Snake god’s have mercy! Zeeter! How long have you been nursing this virus?” The venerable Naga doctor waved his chubby pointer finger at me, like Padre said his grandfather and father had done to him as a boy, when he had been overeating or being noisily flatulent. Wonder what made me think of that story? Probably because the old snake doctor, though not loudly, seemed to pass gas every time he yelled or shifted from one side to the other.
The old alchemist Naga continued his tirade, “Unsanctioned dalliances with unkempt wild Naga is the most common method of contracting this disease! Did you have close contact with a feral naga lady on your adventures, Zeeter? As a guardian Naga, you are supposed to save yourself for your Queen and her ladies in waiting! This is the most advanced case of Ophionyssus I have ever encountered! You have let yourself go for way too long! Were you too proud to come find me, boy? Or were you just too busy exploring the demoiselle wilderness on your little extended holiday?
“Without my skill in operating this device you would be forever imprisoned in a Naga body that is allergic to snakes. And I can tell by the readings that you have had this for decades! No wonder you have never had a significant other or helped the Naga population, as is your duty, to assist your people in the avoidance of extinction. Well, we don’t have the problem as bad as Jarl Zandar’s High Elves, but still!”
Orotzzz blustered on for a few minutes and following a crusty hurrumph and a few excited expletives, the old Naga doctor pummeled my shocked body with a frequency blast that knocked me, gasping for breath, onto my side. I spasmed several times and then the ancient serpentine alchemical engineer flicked off his machine, then flicked it on once more. Did I notice a mischievous grin as he had maneuvered the frequency beam at the last minute to aim the device at Sully?
I was too busy to ponder the question. I thrashed on the floor and gasped for breath. Scrambled memories like kaleidoscope patterns, superimposed over powerful strobe lights, flitted through my crazed thoughts. Sweat beaded over my body in an oily sheen. Scents of liquid fear erupted out of the perspiration. Flashes of stinging memories overwhelmed me. Memories of killing the garter snakes in my Ojibwe grandmother’s garden shed, and carelessly soaking my clothing in foul-smelling, slimy snake blood and guts, then retching through my promised favorite meal of chicken dinner, played over and over. But suddenly the visions softened, and I became filled with deep inner peace. My body still thrashed, but the ugly memories stilled. The memories no longer triggered me.
Sum Ting Wong had spun like a top, almost, but not quite, evading the frequency amplifier. However, he had not toppled like I had, giving everyone present a new thrill to ogle as I wriggled helplessly on the cold stony floor.
Dr. Orotzzz turned to the Queen, bowed, then said, “Your itinerant guards, Twizzer and Zeeter, are fixed now of all that ailed them. My loins are loosed from all this standing and my snake leg is as shaky as a newborn kitten.
“If you don’t mind, Queen Riva, I’ll just grab a glass of wine or two or three and head back down to the tunnels. Toodaloo everyone!”
As I struggled, without the use of legs, to stand up again, Orotzzz tucked the unpowered medical device under his arm, then grabbed a wine with each free hand from the nearest servant and headed back to his subterranean study for the night. Like Earth’s fabled serpent city below Los Angeles, California, the Dark Naga castle underground was filled with a maze of warrens and spacious hollow rooms containing mercantile shops, storage chambers, treasure rooms, idol mausoleums, private dwellings and small factories.
I was a bit woozy, but I felt better and the battle with snake oil was a thing of the past. The aroma that drifted from the Queen smelled like rose petals soaked in lavender lubricant.
Worriedly Sully asked, “Are you all-right, uhh, Zeeter?”
“I feel strange, but…good. The overpowering feeling to faint or puke is gone. Replaced with the scent of roses and lavender oil. With a hint of cinnamon and jasmine. Yeah, I’m going to be all right.”
Queen Riva chortled, “If you two are done cuddling each other, we have unfinished business.
“I think I have decided your punishments. If you disappear again, don’t come back! If you do, it is the pain collars for both of you.
“Zeeter, go find Ssseej. Tell him that he needs to report to sewer cleaning detail for one day, tomorrow at six A.M. sharp and all is forgiven as far as embellishing his report.
“Tell his buddy, Black Tamanzee, that Twizzer is taking his post after he finishes my private duty. Send Ssseej home. Tell Black T that he is to freshen up first and perform relaxed guard duty for the party and in the throne room area until dawn.
Queen Riva pointed at her ladies in-waiting, “You are responsible for my Royal Soiree until I get back. I am taking Twizzer to the Royal Pools. Unless there is an emergency and the new tenants from the Star Portals decide to raid us or some such, I do not want to be interrupted!
Pointing to Twizzer she proclaimed, “Follow me, Naga! You have special duty tonight! Make me an egg, Snake Boy, and I am not talking breakfast in bed!”
…
I had relieved Ssseej as instructed. Ssseej had given me a look that could have curdled milk as the other guard laughed, “I told you the Queen was still going to punish you and that you only thought you were off the hook! Was I right or was I right, Ssseej?”
Black Taman winked at me, then smiled that white strobe light smile, “Suck eggs, Ssseej!” As Taman was levitating away, he turned back to me, “Don’t fall asleep, Jeeter and I’ll buy you a beer at Snake’s Cauldron, down below, if I get paired with one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting tonight!”
I leaned back against the wall and propped up my double axe as Black Tamanzee headed for Riva’s party. Ssseej scowled and headed, slinking and twisting, rather than floating, for his private quarters to rest a few hours before heading off to sewer tunnels duty.
About thirty minutes passed and the double-bladed Dire axe vanished, replaced by my Orc-crafted long axe. As soon as I grabbed it again, the disguise reappeared, and my axe looked like a Dark Naga double axe! When about ninety minutes had passed, suddenly Sully, in Naga form, as Twizzer, appeared, floating over the cobblestone, to stand beside me.
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” replied Sully sullenly.
He was upset enough that I knew that shoehorning in my usual Sum Ting Wong joke would not be very wise.
Sully continued, “That was worse than the night Sabrina and I broke up. She had demanded that ‘I make her happy, while she was wrapped in her snake.’ When she gave me the choice of fulfilling her fetish or leaving, I left. Changed my phone. Left town in a hurry and took Zale’s offer to come to Carnival World.”
“Should we blow this popsicle stand?” I asked.
“Never to return,” answered Sully. Then, following a frown, he added, “That was the weirdest thing, Orlando. When I was doing my ‘duty’ while I was in Naga form, I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all. But when I woke up a few minutes ago, I can’t believe how compliant I was. Don’t get me wrong, from the top of her hips, the queen is the Eighth Wonder of the World, but…but…but, she’s a Naga. A real Naga! I’m only a Naga until we blow this popsicle stand and I am a human again!”
“Sully my boy, I think it was that last frequency blast from the Dr. Orotzzz anti-Ophionyssus mystery box that pulled off that trick.
“If my bardic lore memories are serving me well, that little black box was none other than a psychotronic instrument. He used psychotronication-remote scaler interferometry, also called radionics, to remove our dislike of snakes. That, I expect, is one of many functions, depending on the frequency setting, which the machine can perform. According to legend it can also instantly, without side effects, kill cancer cells or eradicate pesky varmints like your former pucinara infestation.
“Of course, Secret Agent Man, you evaded the full force of the ray, and didn’t end up biting the dust and doing an impromptu floor dance. Hence, while your resulting change may have been temporary, mine, thankfully, should be more permanent.”
We headed back for the game trail that led to the fallen log. As soon as we entered the tree line both of us tapped our disengage buttons on the high-tech disguise devices and regained our human forms.
“Good. We found it,” said Sully. “What is better is that we don’t have to make a special trip back here with the locating device. That’s better than spending a month in the brig for a ‘carelessness or unlawful use of a modern firearms charge’ and a polygraph test from internal affairs to see that I didn’t sell my lost rifle or ammo to Carnival World natives.”
We were only on the road for three days before we heard Zales speak through the skip jack exterior speakers. We waited as the ship uncloaked and landed on the ground before us with a soft hum. The whirring announced that the gate would soon drop.

CARNIVAL WORLD CHAPTER 42
…
“Welcome aboard, Orlando Bard and Ranger Wong,” chuckled Zales dryly. His eyes were cold as ice and his features were an odd study of irritation mixed with a subtle hint of eager curiosity. “I can tell, from the end of the road, as the old saying goes, boys, that this is going to be a real humdinger of a debriefing.”
He signaled the Beta Team pilot to take them back to the base. Puffing his cigar a few times, glaring at us, he spoke around his brown smoke stick, “we will have the official debriefing back in the command room. But I gotta tell ya, Sum Ting Wong, you are going to have a new nickname!”
Sully saluted Zales, according to protocol, but then said, “Sir, please, no more games. The mission was a success. I want to let you know that first. But I am confused, Sir.”
Zales chuckled, “Ever hear, Ranger Wong, of the poker phrase, ‘Read ‘em and weep?’” Colonel Zales dramatically fanned out several open cards of fine stationery, like a big poker hand, stamped Royal House of the Dark Naga. “These fancy stationary envelopes, written in fine calligraphy, were brought to my office by courier, unsealed, with orders to give it to the western Star Portal commander. And I had to wonder, Sully, to what do I owe the pleasure?
“There was also an attached note that simply said, ‘Please forward these to your spy, Snake Daddy, with gushing thanks, when you see him, Queen Riva.’ Each one with its own honorarium! From Riva and Primia. From Riva and Secundus. From Riva and Tertius. From Riva and Quartia. From Riva and Pentia. From Riva and Sixtus. From Riva and Septima. And at last, we are at the end, dearest Sum Ting Wong, also known, from this day forward, as Snake Daddy: From Riva and Octavius!
After a pause, Zales added, “Like I said, Sully, I received eight of these by special courier this morning. At least I knew you weren’t rotting in the Dark Naga dungeons!
“Each one of those fancy perfumed cards says in large bold black letters,” offered Zales, with a sarcastic chuckle, “with multi-colored sticky glitter tossed over and attached to the message, ‘Happy Father’s Day, Snake Daddy, Orotzzz helped me deliver eight beautiful eggs this morning!”
I watched as Sully’s tan face turned white and his mouth dropped open in an “O” of surprise.
Zales puffed his stogie again, then said through the corner of his mouth, “Oh, yeah, Snake Daddy, this is going to be the debriefing of a lifetime. If you say the mission was successful, Ranger Wong, I’ll say it was successful. But so much for the advanced terchnology disguise units, I guess. Yeah, the phrase Sum Ting Wong, definitely comes to mind.”
Zales looked at me and asked, “Why so quiet, Orlando Bard? Did your snake oil aversion compromise the mission?”
“I am as surprised as you, Colonel Zales. The advanced tech dimmed momentarily, but it was dark in the throne room where it happened. When we had infiltrated the Queen’s party, even though the disguise fluttered momentarily, in the presence of the advanced technology device, no one seemed to notice.
“The Queen is vain, and self-centered, but is not interested in taking over the world like her mother was. She just wants to play dress up with her ladies in-waiting and find a Snake Daddy that can give her eggs! Which, thanks to you, Zales, she now has exactly that of which she for so long hoped, schemed and dreamed!
“In my opinion, Queen Riva is not a danger, and all it would take is an ambassadorial gifting of beautiful clothing, interesting party implements, eight fancy baby cribs with attached toys or the best in modern make up and she might even offer you an alliance.
“So, my best guess, Colonel Zales, is that while the disguise may have failed, she is of no danger to us. Riva didn’t even like the sacrifices the Dark Assassins guild committed. Eventually they probably would have had a parting of the ways anyway. Which they did. And they have left Carnival World. They went off planet, according to Queen Riva, which confirms the intel from the German scientist’s shredded letter.
“The time traveling lady we found out about when we examined the Nazi Bell, Maria Orsic, the occult channeler was there, for a while, at the Dark Naga Castle, a century or so ago. After befriending Queen Riva, Commander Orsic, the Vril Maiden, sneakily absconded with a roomful of advanced technology and the Queen’s Dark Atlanticean Assassins.
“Orsic and her newly acquired Dark Atlantean Assassins Guild, then escaped with their upgraded Atlanticean Skip Jack, in what must have been multiple excursions, sneaking these thefts right under the nose of Queen Riva, over a period of at least several months, and then finally secreted themselves to a secret base somewhere off planet.
“In my opinion, Colonel, they, Vril Maiden Orsic’s group, are the ones mentioned in prophecy, and they are the ones we need to worry about, not Queen Riva.
“Queen Riva is very happy with us now. She has been trying, I gather, for a long time to have children. And finally, your ‘Snake Daddy’ has made her dreams come true. In a little over a year, eight of them will be hatching, unless she puts them in a suspended animation chamber, like Lady Q did with the White Naga royal eggs. I doubt that Riva will do that. She wants too desperately to be a mother! But maybe not, maybe you should ask Lady Q for her prognostications on the matter.”
Zales nodded thoughtfully at my suggestion, but offered no remark, so I continued, “Her precious eggs, Colonel Zales, and her parties will be her focus now, not war or world domination!”
Sully whispered grimly, “Don’t call me that, Bard Boy!”
Zales snapped, “You better get used to it, Sully. That’s an order! We may need your services with Queen Riva, as a diplomat, in the future, Ranger Wong.
The Colonel added, more calmly, “Save the rest of your explanations for the official debriefing.
“By the way, the scientists already had a party for the rest of the Ranger teams, who had a horse in the race, for the Nazi Bell Project. They even bought sodas and pizza to send home with that grouchy Dwarven Sky Barge captain, who hauled the crashed Nazi Bell, off the mountain for us with his anti-gravity equipment. That Dwarf Captain Gloyn was pleasantly surprised and happy about that gift. Never seen a man, I mean Dwarf, eat a whole pizza and chug down a six-pack of Coke so fast. Said he had never eaten pizza or drank a cola before. Never even left the sky dock until after he finished. One loud and long, legendary burp, and off he sailed his Sky Barge to the White Dwarf Castle!”
The Colonel pulled out the pizza warmer and carrier, unzipped it, and offered the pizza to me and Sully. I watched Secret Asian Man quietly and absent mindedly chow down his pizza as he frowned and stared off into a vacant corner of the Skip Jack. He quickly gobbled his slice of mushroom and sausage pizza, which Zales, after retrieving his own slice, sat the pizza, in its warmer between me and Sully on the empty seat.
Then with a smooth push of his long leg, Zales slid a cooler filled with ice and Cokes, to the seats where we were strapped in place.
Zales continued, “Our scientists absolutely love the Nazi Bell you found for them, Orlando and Sully! And, Sully, you were mentioned with great favor in Dr. Kimble’s report on the Nazi Bell mission. Sully looked up at Zales briefly, but just grabbed another slice of pizza and stared vacantly off into space.
“I guess, gentlemen,” said Zales, “that even your mission briefing will have quite the challenge, topping that. The Nazi Bell mission report reads like a cross between an episode of NCIS and a World War Two Sci Fi movie.
Sully opened his can of icy Coke letting the hissing sound of open air escape the can. I watched him shiver at the sound, and while he wolfed down more pizza, he never touched his open can of soda.
“Enough chatter,” commanded Zales. “Let’s share some cola and pizza before we land. It won’t take us long to get back. We may as well have a quick lunch before we land on the sky dock. When we land, Snake Daddy and Bard, we can finish up the leftovers at the briefing table.