I arrived on the orange plains of Naga World, and tried to telepathically hail a passing Dar Koni spacefighter. Unfortunately, he seems to never have heard of me, and so he follows policy. Shoot first with very big guns, and sift the ashes for questions is their policy. I am not sure what went wrong. Even after at least five visits to this ‘hub dimension’ as I call it; this place confuses me.



Waking in mud is unpleasant. It is a squishy sliminess that gets inside your clothes. I sat up which was a big mistake. The troopers who were tending a dead soldier to my left raised a fuss. Soon, MP’s arrived, and with them their clubs.

When I woke, I was tied in a chair which would have hardly stopped me, but two nasty looking Prussians stood to my right and left. No psi and no magic other than a calmness came to my aid.

The court martial was into summary judgement, and after my odd assortment of stuff was fingered by a dreadfully tired, but still stiff officer, I was pronounced a spy. The officer sent Corporal Schickelgruber to deal with me. He took me over to a tree with a detachment of men as back-up, and with curious and unsympathetic eyes he strung me up. I hope my versing out keeps him awake at night.



I woke sore and ill-tempered in a beautiful star-lit greenhouse full of exotic plants. The humming of the metal deck plates underneath me, and the piercing clarity of the stars told me I was in space.

Walking about, I found a door and an obvious intercom next to it. The door slid aside to reveal a carpeted hallway beyond the portal. The hall reminded me of a luxurious hotel’s hallway. But I passed on that. I wanted to talk to the people in charge or something.

“Where am I?” I asked the intercom.

“The Aft door to the Observation Chamber, honoured passenger.” A mellifluous voice responded from the intercom.

“Okay, what ship is this?”

“The Mary Piper, a Paradise class passenger spaceliner, where your wish is our command.”

This was more like it. A luxury cruise ship in outer space would be just the thing for recovering from being hung. Actually, I felt fine physically, but the emotional shock of the thing still had me reeling.

“Can I have a Coke(r)?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Recreational drug use is forbidden.”

“Coco-Cola? It’s a drink.”

“This beverage is unknown to my database. However, I can synthesize thousands of meals. Perhaps we can make it.”

Shrugging, I give a good description of the venerable beverage.

“I should have an acceptable copy within ten minutes. Unfortunately, I will be unable to serve it. Perhaps the gentleman would prefer something else?”

“Why can’t you serve it?”

“As the gentleman should be aware due to the thrice hourly PA announcements; we have a failure of the tachyon retardation rods, and are unable to slow down. We impact Rigel in five minutes, thirty-two seconds.”

“Just give me an iced tea, unsweet.” I drank the tea as I waited to go down with the ship. Since I probably was the Captain being the lone sentient on board it was my duty to be turned to plasma. Ah me.



So far, I have been tossed into trouble in part because my psi and magic skills have been out of order. I woke to a rumble in the ground which unpleasantly rattled my frame. The sky above was rent with lightning, and to the left I saw the Fair Host drawn up in battle array several hundred feet from me across a blackened field. With a feeling of forboding, I spun to my right.

A horde of monstrousness with evil hearts apparent and hateful phrases chanted stretched from horizon to horizon.

I stood and fought as hard as I could with my mightiest of spells. A pair of angels came to do war, and whips of fire fell from the Heavens to slice and fry, and I spoke the Words that are never spoken without pain. My strength was set to oppose an ogreish giant, and I overthrew him by the grace of God. But if it slowed the advance any more than one of their horribly dissonant march steps, I am uncertain. They swarmed me.



I woke surrounded by an awful, no, a mind-numbing stench. The jolting of my body as I was moved was accompanied by a squeak and a whir. It was hard to breathe with the weights piled atop me. I started to push my way to the surface of whatever this was. I could not see, I was so deeply buried. Then I heard a voice from nearby as I got to the surface, and blinked in the sunlight.

“Bring out yer dead! Bring out yer dead!” The wagonman yelled. I started to say, I’m not dead yet, but then I felt tenderness under my arms. I checked a few other symptoms, and lay back. Rapid onset bubonic plague was my diagnoses. By the time, the wagonman had gotten to the pit to dump his horrid cargo, I had versed out.



Five worlds in just over an hour was a record for even me. I hoped for some relief.



Tadeusz