<meta name="LineWrap" content="true"><TITLE>SR_Bk1 0057</TITLE><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0058.txt">Next (Page 58)</A><BR> I wanna go home," Fake said without emotion. <P><P>"How about the fat one?" Kesh said, gesturing toward the unconscious Jerald Hapal Hatch.<P><P>"Pattern shot him with a system drain bolt. It'll take him awhile to recover," said Coabler.<P><P>"Bad choice, hers. I would have liked to question him, also," Kesh said, standing.<P><P>"We'll get our answers," Coabler said, holstering his saws. <P><P>The cloud of fallout was thinning to the point that the aftermath of the destructive wave began to come into view. Wisps of dust drifted over the four individuals as the safe area ended. A dank gray wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. <P><P>Coabler surveyed the scene, and saw Classic of Logic in the distance. He hailed her and she waved back. <P><P>"Tis Classic yonder," Coabler said. "Fetch her."<P><P>Kesh didn't respond, but raised a bony gloved finger and extended a vector, a thin black line, to touch Classic. Then without moving, Kesh took hold of Classic and drew her to him. She moved, hovering a few feet off the ground with the vector extending through her abdomen. In a few moments, she was beside Coabler, and Kesh withdrew his vector. <P><P>"I could just as easily have walked!" Classic said, holding her stomach. "You know that makes me queasy."<P><P>"Complain not. You're here now, no?" said Coabler.<P><P>"Ugh!" said Classic with a shiver. "I hate those vectors!"<P><P>"Your decree is noted, Classic," Kesh said. <P><P>"Any sign of Demolish or Tickle?" Coabler asked.<P><P>"Nope," Classic of Logic said.<P><P>"Well I'm off to find Tickle," said Coabler. "Keep an eye on these two, and if the boy reappears, you know what to do, Kesh."<P><P>Kesh nodded, and Coabler jogged off into the desolate once-countryside.<P><P>"So are we finally through with this idiotic quest?" Classic asked Kesh.<P><P>"Who knows," Kesh said distantly.<P><P>--------------------------<P>CHAPTER 13<P>--------------------------<P><P>Prince Ferrajalt walked up the stairs, but his mother managed to yell after him as she always did.<P><P>"Oh Ferrajalt!" Queen Ibnia said. "The Polants called from the road. They'll be here in fifteen minutes, no more than twenty."<P><P>Ferrajalt stopped, frustrated.<P><P>"So what do I care?"<P><P>He was tall, with short, wavy, light brown hair. His nose was slightly crooked from a childhood injury.<P><P>"It's high time you grew up and realized your social responsibilities. You're not a child anymore."<P><P>"Okay, Mother, I don't want to argue. Just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it. Is that fair?"<P><P>Ferrajalt squeezed the exquisite banister in restlessness, waiting for the Queen to respond.<P><P>"Ferri, that's an awfully mean attitude to take, don't you think?"<P><P>"I'm just--"<P><P>"You are heir to the throne, after all. And it's high time you started acting like it!"<P><P>Ferrajalt waited, a very unhappy look on his face.<P><P>"Look Mother, I don't feel at all like you want me to. Not by a kiffin' long shot!"<P><P>"Ferri, don't cuss."<P><P>"Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! I can't help the way I feel, but I can help the way I act, dammit!"<P><P>He waited for a few moments, then continued up the stairs.<P><P>"You're to entertain the Polants, dear. Your father and I have to go to the Capital to meet with the Secretary of Defense," the Queen said, having walked over to the bottom of the stairs now, looking up at her son. "Top priority, you know, Ferri. In the national interest. You understand, don't you?"<P><P>Ferrajalt had a sinking feeling.<P><P>"What exactly am I to do to entertain the Polants?"<P><P>"I know it's tough for you dear, with all your siblings off at school."<P><P>"Mother, what have you planned for me to do?"<P><P>The Queen looked down.<P><P>"I promised Edna and Showam you'd take them down to the beach in the Balsativan."<P><P>"The Balsativan!" Ferrajalt exclaimed with disbelief.<P><P>"Well yes dear.<BR><A HREF="SR_Bk1-0058.txt">Next (Page 58)</A>