The Queen of Tentacles (Part 1)

                                         The Queen of Tentacles (Part1)

We got the call right after breakfast.

I had just finished cleaning the plate and utensils, when Glob's excited voice... (Hmm. Thought? Thought-voice?) sounded in my mind.

"Silver. The Queen has sent word. She would like a reading at your earliest convenience, and is expecting you to arrive this afternoon."

I groaned. Remember what I said about some of my best and worst clients being interstellar? What I didn't tell you, is that sometimes they're the same client.

"Did she mention what she wanted a reading about, Glob?"

"Please, please..." I whispered under my breath. "Not another question about romance."

Don't get me wrong. I love love as much as any dragon does, but the Queen is obsessed with the subject. And I mean that literally. She always takes a fancy to either a palace worker, or an attractive peasant in the marketplace, and wants to know if true love will develop. The Ace of Cups reversed, the 5 of Wands, and the 8 of Cups, these cards consistently turn up. In this, I see failure to launch, minor conflict sapping any potential relationship energy, and ultimately, everybody moving on. For the last three readings in a row, she's asked about romance, and these cards are there. No matter which deck I use. 

The Queen is relentlessly optimistic.

"No, Silver. But there was a strong sense of underlying tension. I would say it bordered on fear. "

Fear? That's not the Queen I know, not at all. Tense or fearful aren't words I'd use to describe her. Powerful, gracious, multidextrous and practical, (except in matters of the heart) but not tense, and definitely not timid. Prudent? Yes. Fearful? Never.

" Glob, did you send my professional yet personable, reply? And can we get there in time? We're pretty far out."

" I did. And of course. We'll be there early."

" Glob, you're the best. Fire it up, and let's go."

I didn't want to disappoint the Queen. She can be a royal pain, but I like her. She's very supportive of my work, and always invites me to dine at the evening banquet. The food is superb, if you enjoy eating lobster, crab, and snail. Which I do.

You see, Her Royal Majesty, the Queen of Tentacles, is a Cephalopodian.

You might remember what I said about my people's myths concerning cephalopods. Well, the further I travel along the cosmic roads, the more  connections I make about the possible origins of some of them.

The Cephalpodians were once able to travel long distances in space. Now, they cannot. Their civilization has fallen many times. It never recovers to the point it had reached before each disintegration, so they become more primitive with every fall. Now, they're barely feudal. But in elder days, their society was glorious and their technology was  the envy of the universe. They had discovered the way to fold space, making long distance travel possible without resorting to generational voyages. If a Cephalopodian ship had crashed to Earth long ago, members of the crew might have survived. The warm, nourishing waters of Earth's early oceans would have been very similar to the conditions on their home world, which are the same conditions you'll find there today.

Earth has a tendency to change people. If surviving Cephalopodians had been able to reproduce, subsequent generations would become adapted to the environment. However, they would still retain inherent genetic capabilities, which might be dormant, but could activate if conditions were right. Would this be the reason a friendly octopus might be able to shapeshift into a Kraken?

Dragons are relatively recent arrivals to Earth. We've only been there for about 20,000 years. This would have been before our time. But my theory might also explain the fragments of ancient statuary, recently discovered by human archeologists, depicting tall beings with bag shaped heads, and human-like torsos, with tentacles in place of arms and legs. To evolving apes, such beings would have been considered Gods. Dragons were too. I like that a lot better than being thought of as a disingenuous flying cattle rustler.

"Silver." Glob's thoughts interrupted my musings.

"What."

"There's been another transmission."

*Sigh* "What did she say?"

"It was not from the Queen. It was not meant for us, I intercepted it. It came from a second source, intended for an unknown recipient, but it was about us."

"Oh?"

"A demand for a description of our ship, and an inquiry as to whether or not there was a Jellian on board. The communication cut off quickly. There was no more."

"Oh."

A Jellian. How interesting. It seemed to me that someone already had a lot more information about us than I was comfortable with. And that someone was way too curious about Glob.

I strapped in, and we headed out. The melifluous humming of Glob's people coming through the coms, the stars becoming streaks of light as we got up to speed, I felt like I could fall asleep. I love deep space. It's peaceful out here.

Glob's people, the Jellians, are very musical. They encountered music in those old Earth broadcasts and were so enthralled that they decided to make music too. They don't have mouths, or vocal chords, so they don't sing. But they vibrate along with the frequencies, and remember them. They're very resonant. They have perfect pitch.

We were receiving their rendition of the "I Love Lucy" theme, which is a big favourite. Only they hum it a lot more slowly, and their concept of dynamics mimics the flow of the ocean on their world. The effect is very soothing. They hum it twice a day, morning, and evening. It's lovely.

The Jellians are beautiful and innocent, and even though they vicariously experience the mixed influence of human beings, they will continue to live in a state of Grace, because that's who they are. They take the best, and leave the rest. A lesson for us all. They grieve for the Earth and her people. They want the Earth to heal. They would like nothing more than for humans to give up greed, murder, and hate, and become peaceful and kind. One might never think that little balls of goo could be so soulful, but this describes the Jellians perfectly. Brilliant, beatific, and earnest. So that communication Glob intercepted really disturbed me.

Living on Earth and being human sometimes, has taught me more than I ever wanted to know about exploitation.

The Jellian world is situated in a remote corner of deep space.  It's a well kept secret, known only to a few ethical starship crafters, who are connected to  an  organisation called the Otherhood, a  discrete society of mages,  artisans, and merchants who are connected to the Jellian collective. It's a  magickal mystical daisy chain, but the system works, and people are happy with it. When a pilot  buys a starship from an Otherhood crafter, the crafter approaches the Jellians, offering someone a co pilot opportunity.  The offer is made with respect, humility, and a magickal  contract, signed by the pilot, in blood.   A pilot who works with a Jellian has to make a lifelong pact to keep the utmost secrecy concerning the Jellian people.  This makes  it much more attractive for  a Jellian  to decide to become a co pilot. The Jellians are very reticent.

The Jellians who choose to leave the home world and become co pilots, are intrepid, curious, and brave. They also consider themselves to be undercover cultural ambassadors, anonymously  representing the the consciousness of the Jellians in the greater universe. Friendly and exceptionally intelligent,  they know whether or not a prospective pilot will be a "good fit". They choose the pilot they will work with.  And their intuition is spot on. They are never wrong. I really respect that.  As a tarot reader, I wish I could claim that kind of success rate. Anyhow, most people who've encountered a Jellian on a starship won't realise that they have. They'll see a little blob of...something... floating in a cylinder. And a pilot won't divulge their co pilot's Jellian identity, unless it's a matter of life and death. Well, actually not life. Just death.   It's a sacred trust.  I was  honoured that Glob chose me to work with it.   I had been accepted into the collective after our first mission, which was a resounding success as far as the Jellians and the Otherhood were concerned.  It's all been clear skies and smooth sailing ever since. Well, with the Otherhood, that is. The rest of the universe is...quirky. 

I had to find out what sort of freaky intrigue was going on with the Cephalopodians.

I wracked my brain to remember who had ever visited the ship when I was there. The Queen, but she just sort of squished around on the bridge, telling me I needed more splendiferous decor. The only notice she seemed to take of Glob's cylinder, was to avoid tripping over it. Gowns which need to cover lower body tentacles are voluminous indeed. None of her attendants were allowed in. First of all, there was barely enough room in there for me, and for she. Cephalopodians are larger than humans, and their mobility tenticles are strong and thick. It would be like a human having eight legs, and none of them being just for show. But they also have eight arms. So a Cephalopodian doesn't fit into a small spacecraft very comfortably. And she didn't. I remember being relieved that she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.  And her attendants hadn't crowded around the door, trying to look in. In fact, they didn't care if it was obvious that they were avoiding me.  They knew me, but I frightened them now.      I was glad I  could rule them out as potential threats, but I was still no closer to an answer.  

We do her readings in the palace. It's a marvel of ancient underwater engineering. The Royal Residence was built for the first Cephalopodian monarchs, and it  is the only building that has survived the numerous dark ages.

I was impressed on my first visit. The Queen burbled proudly about its history. It remained intact, because it had been constructed deep in the ocean, in the largest cave the royal architects could find. It has turned out to be the only permanent structure the Cephalopodians have ever been able to build.

Cave. Yes. I know. Don't say it.

"Silver, prepare to jump."   

"Ok Glob, ready."

I could actually feel the glee in Glob's thoughts.

Glob's people know the secret to folding space too. But the Jellians prize social stability, and their civilisation has never degraded, or worse. So knowledge is gained, expanded upon, and preserved. The Jellians are a sparkly layer of living library. They don't know everything. Yet. Give them time.

A space jump is smooth if done correctly, although there's always that sensation of your stomach being the last thing to make it, even though this is impossible.

Glob has a special affinity for space jumping. It considers this to be fun, and wants to share the joy. I love Glob's attitude. And grrrrrr. There's that feeling again. It's a dragon emotion, but humans feel it too. Protective.

Glob. My co pilot. And even more important, my friend. Glob trusts me. A tiny, glowing ball of goo with the courage to blaze around in space in a tempered glass cylinder, with a grumpy dragon, far away from its safe, stable home. 

 And it  had volunteered. 

 (To be continued)