REVUE: A Universe of Bizarre Complexities, Part 1...

A Universe of Bizarre Complexities:

A Science Fiction Opera by Theodore Spencer Van Dyk and Isabel Catherine Gattis-Van Dyk, Md.

Part 1

Returning home from a long voyage, the ship finds its way into the docks. They welcome it. Caress it. Feed the ship as it slowly shifts from one location in deep space to the center of a cool bay. The ship uttered a cool air of assonance. Between docks, the ship melts inward into an astral sea, and subsequently shifts back onto fueling docks. The hoses feed into it from every direction, fuel streaking inward in a rainbow array.

A passage extends from the landing dock. A hand reaches out. A man in a white cloak, with bright red boots and bright red gloves, grips the hand.

"My name is Azorsechles!" said the man in white.

A voice from the other side answered:

"Why have you come to this planet?"

"I have come here bearing many riches," said the man, "carpets from the bazhaars on Minas Trillith, the spectacles of the great Beholder at the temple of Aggrillicles, and more!"

"Is that so?", said the sun trader, as he fanned out his own collection of wares to the interstellar salesman.

"Surely you have nothing of equal worth," prodded Azorsechles, "for I am not interested in designs so utterly... planetary."

"That is assuming that the goods you bring hold any meaning to anyone but yourself," responded the port trader to the subtle query, "for I have never heard of this temple of Aggrillicles."

"Perhaps I should find another planet. You don't seem to be receptive to such treasures. An unsophistocated bunch, I presume?"

"Simply searching for a smaller price. What you call riches I see as trinkets. It may be best if you return to the space from which you came, Azorsechles."

"And I shall do so."

Another trader has seen through my lies, thought the white caped man as he lounged in the ship. An illusion of wealth. A small debris-collector, masked as an elaborate palace. He was not nearly as well off as he once was. The planetary traders seemed to have become savvy to his ways. Lies had become commonplace in this galaxy. Perhaps it was time he moved to a new one. Perhaps it was time that he moved to a galaxy without lies, where he could twist his words upon ignorant ears. They would cherish his product. His old rug. His broken glasses.

Yes, it had been a long time since he had seen new space. He would need a new ship. One that could navigate the darkest reaches of hyperspace, and cut through the great solar waves. This ship would have to be a masterpiece. He might have to pull off one more lie to acquire it. Where would he find such a ship? He knew of a place. A place he remembered from long ago. From before he was a peddler of lies.

That would be where he would go. The starfleet factories on Earth. A human planet. A planet on which he had many friends. Many disgruntled friends.

To be continued...