to suggest that Queen City was overrun by malevolent spirits. Some suggested that Queen City was the epicenter for all the wicked spirits in the world. And, now they were escaping into the world from out the cracks ripping Queen City streets and causing new overpriced pressed board houses to snap, crackle and pop.
Panic, exaggerated, overacted, badly acted and mostly self-focused, filled the streets of Queen City. Throngs of screaming humanity climbed one over the other to beg forgiveness from the invisible. They sat in bars where all drinks were on the house, although one would need to step over passed-out drunks just to get into the house. Soothsayers predicted the end of the world. Even those who never spoke sooth saw it coming. The sidewalks were inflamed with anger and incredulity from those who were trying to find a way out of the wreckage. Some huddled and cried with friends and relatives, even those friends and relatives they hated. Some stood frozen staring at cracks that continued to grow. Some felt the Earth moving under their feet. Some removed their shoes to experience the sensation.
Streets and sidewalks rolled with the rumble of an earthquake, buildings swayed and fell, cracks continued to splinter and tear apart Queen City.
This was a disaster, indeed. And we are now in the dimension of the present.
* * *
Alarmed, Lily cried out, “What’s happening!?”while leaning over the porch balustrade that was covered with two layers of chipped paint, green on the surface and white lead paint beneath. “Gawd! Look at that! The entire street, V.” V was speechless as she leaned over the porch balustrade next to Lily; so Lily questioned herself, “An explosion? An earthquake? What?”
“Frackers!” V overcame her speechlessness. “Goddamned motherfucking frackers!”
“Really?”
“You can go to the bank on it.”
In silence, both V and Lily give the scene below their full attention. Squirrels gather catalpa bean pods, small green peaches and marble-sized crabapples. They take a bite, a tiny bite, just one tentative bite and then they spit it out and throw their spoils to the trembling streets and sidewalks. They fly through trees that line the streets like handsome, well-groomed, green soldiers. They leap without hesitation from treetop to treetop. They fly through their urban forest, some fly from one side of the street to the other. They know they can and that’s all it takes——the knowing. They do and once they do they never stop flying——the squirrels. Folks pour from out their homes. Some stare in disbelief. Some tentatively patrol the street, surveying the damages from slashes in cement and blacktop. In the middle of the street, directly in front of Shady Sanctum, a sinkhole appears that seemingly could lead to China. Neighbors run back inside their homes to watch the news, hoping for information about this extraordinary phenomenon. Unless it is on the news it didn’t happen.
Was it a bomb? Did it come from Russia? Is it radioactive? MisterDeathtakeshistime,slowlyandhorribly,whenit’sanuke.
“Frackers!” V repeated, “Goddamned motherfucking frackers!”
V and Lily sigh in unison from their watch over the balustrade.
* * *
That didn’t happen it will Max you were warned that wasn’t on purpose what was that it just happened that’s all nothing just happens it does sometimes it does like the Sphincter Island I don’t want to go back you will I may have nodded off from the dough gum you think I suppose pull yourself together Max stop with the dough gum or you could cause serious damage for the future of the planet you’ve got to be joking no I’m not it’s just a quick nap that’s all WAKE UP!
* * *
Nearly two lightyears from Earth, Sumer (a.k.a. planet X), the largest planet in the solar system, was approaching the closest it ever comes to Earth in its orbit around the fringe of the solar system, taking sixty-six thousand, six hundred and sixty-six Earth-years to complete a single day. All those sixes. Co-incidental numerology; or purposely planned by the Universe to scare off mathematicians and cave dwellers?
Sunlight does not reach Sumer directly. Reflective quixelite crystals float near the edge of Sumer’s atmosphere, collecting the faintest of light from distant stars, magnifying them by trillions, which then provides the illusion of direct sunlight needed to grow the lush patches of food and foliage that color and perfume the scenic landscape of Sumer. It is the illusion of sunlight that matters. No one questions its reality. Without quixelite Sumer would be an ice covered rock whirling in space.
The quadrillions of quixelite crystals that float at the edge of Sumer’s atmosphere are each an individual conscious entity. They can also will themselves together as a single consciousness. As One, they can open and close ranks to allow for outgoing and incoming ships; or form an impenetrable shield against meteors or any other known threats to Sumer.
The crystals provide every bit of energy needed to serve the needs of the entire planet without depleting a single non-renewable resource. The nanoscale crystals that fill Sumer’s atmosphere nourish the soul as well, deepening and widening an understanding of the essence of Nature, of Self, of Consciousness, of Overlords and the Oversoul of All There Is, Was, Will Ever Be. The crystals also grant wishes.
“If you were born in a holodeck, lived your entire life and died in that holodeck, holograms would be your reality,” a cunning red monkey said. He goes by the name of Kafka the Red, who sings arias from classic Italian and French operas acapella and the seldom performed lost opera written by Gertrude Stein that Kafka the Red found stuffed inside a dried baguette. Kafka the Red performs on a diminutive stage bordered with gold and quixelite filigree. A single red curtain drapes with especial care given to each velvet fold of levitating plush scarlet plunging to one side of the stage and held back by a thick gold cord with tassels in a vape bar in Sumer City, known as KAFKA’S LAST STAND——owned and operated by the red monkey himself.
Three young satyrs could not control their outbursts of ear-piercing laughter, until Lucifer had had enough of it and asked them civilly (for Lucifer) to quiet down. Satyrs do not respond well to being told what to do, civilly or otherwise. Especially, by an employee of the Underlord.
“Tell it to Dionysus, bonehead!”
“Well,” Lucifer whispered to Jesus, “I see that dimension will get us nowhere. It’s a dead end.”
The devil-twins were strolling——spying really——when they heard Lucifer called a “bonehead” by a satyr who hadn’t even earned his horns yet. The twins began giggling until they turned into sparks of hot quixelite and vanished. They are only allowed fifteen minutes a rotation. Remember all those sixes? That is a single rotation. One would be dazed by the amount of wreckage the twins can do in only fifteen Earth minutes. But, since the father of the children is Monsanto the King of the Underworld, the twins are privileged to do whatever the hell they please, as long as they limit themselves to fifteen minutes a rotation.
“There go the twins again. I swear by all the black matter in the universe I’d put them on a spit over the fires of Hell, but they’d probably love it! There they go. Back to Hell,” Lucifer said, then burst into laughter.
“Earth?” Jesus winced.
“Yes, planet Earth. That’s Hell enough, isn’t it? You would know something about that, wouldn’t you? Still in pain, dearest?”
A longish uncomfortable silence befell the two as they inhaled from their vape whips. Lucifer drew hard on his whip and inhaled the quixelite vapors. “My beautiful friend,” began Lucifer after exhaling, “we all know who
