The Princess

Once upon a time there was a princess. She was the most bitchen’ princess of all the seven realms. People all the times be commin’ up to her for her super rad advice.

Like this one Duke was all: “Yo, how do I reduce energy consumption in my Duchy.”

And she’d be all: “You gotta invest in energy efficient bulbs and solar power and diversify your energy sources. Start to compost n’ shit.”

And the duke be all: “fuckn’ ay thanks!”

She was so cool, she rode around on 15 multicolored unicorns on the reg and she lived in a dope bitchin’ castle; she wasn’t all elitist about it either, like other monarchs, she shared the castle with all the wanderers and destitutes and they all had sweet wicked rad feasts all the time with like local stuffed pheasant and Rice and Kale and oregano, and bacon wafers stuffed in peppers and everyone was full and happy and carefree as goddamned jay birds. They played croquet and rode bikes too.

One day there was an evil wizard who showed up to defile the land from the awesomeness. And so the princess summoned the wizard to her castle and they argued and they fought for many moons until the conflict brought about a reconciliation through words and they decided to be awesome together and so the bitchen’ princess and the magic wizard proceeded to  kick so much ass and the world became way cool.

The End

Gateway to the Distant Stars

The ship glided effortlessly through the inter-space traffic. Cruisers, frigates, saloons, two seaters , and a ponderous dreadnaught were all moving along digital pathways towards Ganymede and the hyperjump gate in orbit there. Jupiter loomed behind Grivo’s ship as he moved his furry hands across holographic buttons on the dashboard. The low red ambient light illumined the little alien  as he steadied the wheel and operated through the spaceway. The smooth jazz from the radio passed away as a steady electronic beat came in with heavy synth and drums. A voice came over the radio, the frequency and waves were from a dead time.

“This is Double-you Ex See I, college radio at 91.7 on your radio dial. Keep Kickin it.” The music then went into an 80’s style overdrive. The lights of the space-lanes passed seamlessly with the beat.

Grivo looked from the traffic to Lynda, watching the window in the passenger seat. The human woman didn’t move, but in the reflection of her face on the window, a liquid seemed to be pooling in her eyes.

“Is she sad?” Thought Grivo as he focused back on the road.

He looked back. “She might be sad.” Thought Grivo. Yet he said nothing for some time.

“Ahem,” He said, clearing his throat. “You know, your Earth music isn’t that bad. that jazz smooth stuff was ….nice, but I like this, it reminds me of Telphi in the Sergardi quadrant:  fast thrills, amazing food, hot dancers in every club and…um”

The 80’s overdrive faded into The Guns of Brixton by the Clash.

Grivo looked back quickly to see that she had not moved and the liquid was slowly rolling down her cheek.She wiped her face with her sleeve, sniffed and attempted a resolute demeanor.

“Yea.” said Lynda. The neon lights of the spaceway and the thrusters of passing ships moved across her face. “you know we aren’t that far from earth…well, not relatively far.”

Grivo looked back over. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm” said Lynda, “Same solar system.”

“No shit.” Said Grivo looking back forward to Ganymede and the swiftly approaching hyperjump gate.

There was a long silence as the music of Steely Dan’s Asia flowed into perspective. Grivo gulped down excess saliva that seemed to be building in his throat.

“Ah, more jazz smooth. Does earth have different music, or is it all just this stuff down there?”

“We used to have a lot of types of music on earth.” Said Lynda looking away from the window, into her lap.

“oh.” Said grivo looking back forward. “Right”

Another long silence continued between them, the space was filled with the keyboard skills of Donald Jay Fagen.

Grivo watched the road, ships weaved and sped through the lanes.

“There was Metal, and pop, and rock, Jazz of like a million kinds, opera, beroque, blues, BLUES!, motown, and funk, and disco, EDM, punk, rap, hip hop, and fusions between all of those things!” Said Lynda suddenly talking. Grivo watched her continue. It seemd as though she was trying to yell at space to hear her more than participate in a conversation.

“It all started with folk musics. Little tribes of people on our planet crawling out from whatever cave or rock they lived under. Wherever we came from, people made sounds. We did it to keep us happy, to remember sad times, to help us understand. To keep us from being afraid of the dark…”

She let her head hit the glass quietly, looking down into the vastness of madding space. Her hair trailing down around her as tears began to flow silently from her eyes, blurring the stars.

Grivo was focused on driving. But his ear was cocked towards her.

Lynda spoke into the glass. “Music was everything. It said what words just never could. It gave feeling to that which you never experienced, opened your eyes and reached into what made you what you were….and it was ours… it was our soul. And you didn’t need to be from the same time or place, you didn’t need to speak the same language in words to know how they felt or who they were and learn something new about the whole godamned experience of it all. It was…it was just human.”

The space between the next song lingered. As the Hyperjump gate neared a longing song by Vera Lyn warbled it’s way onto the radio in a rising crescendo of wistful pain. “…I’ll be looking at the moon,” Came over the hi fi as Ganymede passed slowly by the window. The gate loomed before them. Dominating the view from the cabin. A structure made to whisk the two travelers across time and space with imposable science and technology. A second existed in silence until Vera returned with her chorus. “buuuut I’ll beeee seeeeeinnnng youuuuuuuu.”

Lynda stood up. “AND THEN STUFF LIKE THAT WOULD HAPPEN!” She yelled and left the pilot’s cabin.

Grivo glanced back as the door closed with a hydraulic hiss. He looked back down to the instruments. At the gate before them. He sighed and pressed a few buttons turning the wheel and shifting the ship into the exit lane towards the moon of Jupiter.

A few moments later. Lynda came back. her face a little more loose and stretched.

She looked over the instruments and course.

“Where are we going?” She asked

“Earth.” Said Grivo.

part 3—> http://bit.ly/1yNqdEa

Radio

The radio sputtered with static. Garbled voices of various pitches whirred into focus and then away with the rapid switch between stations. A band of blue green light waved with the frequencies in the center of the console behind scratched and dirty glass. The green numbered preset buttons below stood at attention between two knobs outlined with neon orange against the darkness of the cabin.

The static waved like rain on a metal roof, became interlaced with pops and waves, or receded for a moment to give way to the muffled voice of some alien creature. Nothing clear or decipherable could be heard. In the vast world of radio frequencies, nothing was picked up by the device.

Lynda swiveled her chair away from the window.

“It’s busted. Why do you keep trying.” Her crossed arms ignored the brown canvas of the puffy foam passenger chair.  Beyond the glass behind her, the neon lights of the spaceway and other ships in the night moved quickly across the stars.

“You don’t have any appreciation for frequency jumping do you?” Said Grivo. The little fox looking alien stood on the edge of the pilot’s chair, his claws digging into the imitation leather material. One of his furry hands was on the console of the radio and the other held the wheel.  His face was alight with an animal curiosity at the radio while the frequency band reflected blue green off of his dark glistening eyes.

The sounds of the dead radio whirred and jumped some more around the hi-fi rigged surround sound system of the ship’s cabin. The strange and abstract noises from mysterious sources fell flatly on Lynda whose face somehow depressed further into her crossed arms. The blaring static and garbage noise polluted her mind with a rising landfill of rage until she snapped.

She flung her arms out at the little creature.

“CANT YOU PLEASE JUST PUT ON A SONG for gods… sake-”

Just at that moment, her wide eyes cooled. Her mouth hung open and her arm muscles relaxed as a driving back beat of pedal drum and bass guitar smited her. With crystalline clarity the groove arose from the sea of static. The song was graced with the presence of a guitar. It’s silver strings vibrating smoothly along the frets. A soft soulful saxophone meandered above it all.  The notes hit her like heat to butter. A lone voice took over singing words in another language which could have meant anything to her.

The song had a magical effect on her until the saxophone’s solo was beginning to rise and a curtain of dense static dropped over the experience.

“Eh, not my favorite tune. Too lounge music don’t you think?” said Grivo turning the dials with a fervency once more.

“Hey! Change it back!” said Lynda

“Oh you liked it?”

“YES! That song was from Earth!”

Grivo looked back with a confused tilt.

“My home planet.”

The static continued around them, Grivo seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Lynda furrowed her brow. “It made me nostalgic.”

Grivo flicked his wrist and the music smoothly retook the cabin. Lynda sat back in the chair and swiveled it towards the window. Grivo let go of the dial and focused his eyes and both hands on piloting. The white and yellow electronic lines on the glass showed the safest lanes of travel as ships switched between them. Their thrusters were a myriad of colors.

“I have no idea what nostalgia is. But it must be nice for you humans. I ether like music or I don’t.” Said Grivo

“No.” Said Lynda “It’s not like that…it’s …well…uh…It’s that the music makes me think about other things. Nostalgia is like a kind of homesick…but for memories too…”

It was Grivo’s turn to furrow his brow. “Why would you want to be homesick?”

“It’s not like that- just- just forget it, lets just listen to the song in peace.” Said Lynda, her arms resuming their crossed position. She looked out the window at the approaching hyper-jump gate, in orbit around Gatamine while french smooth jazz played around the alien’s spaceship.

Part 2 —> http://bit.ly/1BxzbWa