Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Tangor, and The Keeper (#4)

(Chapter Four: 570,000 million miles)

It was daylight on both Moiromma and its moon, Ice-cap, so it appeared from the spacecraft’s porthole, from outer space. Tangor was looking through his telescope, he could see houses, all their shapes and sizes on Ice-cap, the half frozen moon, more like a planetoid. Like blocks piled on blocks, one on top the other so the houses appeared; so they looked from 140,000-earth miles in outer space. He even noticed the streets and alleys, with their twists and turns in this frozen city that looked like a maze. Most everything was white, even the trees that had to gather all it could, all its nutrients, during the short and shallow summer months to withstand the ferocious long winter months.

He was kind of a Peeping Tom (lately), you could say, in that he was watching hundreds of people day after day on this planetoid go about their daily chores and business. Ah, yes! Yes indeed, this brought him some life, something to do, something to keep his mind going, while waiting for the big break, and escape from Ice-caps hold on his ship. This was his forth year in what he called its captivity. The walls of the ship were getting to him, in that they looked more and more each day like a tomb; he even commented that they looked like (or was starting to look like) a skull; perhaps his. In addition, this isolation brought back memories of Poloda and the time spent there.

Yes, the walls were closing in on him, and now he found a new sport, a game if you will, one he played and only he could play, a solitary game called: look and seek, that was about it; it was a closed ended game for all he knew.

The majority of beings, that is to say, the inhabitants of Ice-cap, were a small figure of a race, species, very small, perhaps three feet tall in their fullest stretched height. But there was also a dominate force on Ice-cap, a demonic species, evil form of life: supernatural beings.

In a way, Tangor felt these small figure inhabitants, whom were there long before the demonic forces from earth came, he felt they were like fish caught on a hook, and like him, isolated in an aquarium: him in a tomb in outer space, them on a rock in outer space. Although, he could see them, and the demonic forces had subdued them. A sad thing to watch, in particular, some of their deadly and cruel customs.

He had noticed the elite had worn robes, yet were subject to the demonic whims of the alien creatures. I suppose Tangor may also have thought: they would have liked to escape from the grips of these alien forces, as much as he’d like to escape from the gravitational hold, Ice-cap had on his ship.

The Feast

The Annual Feast of the Worms, was about to start, one that Tangor had witnessed for three two years now, this would be his third, should he wish to watch the fleshly sacrifice again. Let me explain to you, how Tangor explained it to me: they took a youth, boy or girl (this year it was a young girl), and the priests would sacrifice her to the great god Rue, of the planetoid, by throwing the youth into a pit, one that was hollowed out, and built in one of the temples, the inhabitants had built for this god. This huge demonic being would appear over the temple on the first day of the tenth month of Ice-cap, and watch a million plus worms devour the youth. It was his pleasure to watch this sacrifice. And should they not decided to follow through on this, the Rue would cause havoc all over the planet, like a raging bull. It had happened before, when the folks of Ice-cap defied Rue, but only once, it was too costly.

And so the feast of the demonic beast, as it was also called, was being readied to take place. Three days the priest knelt and praised the god of the dark sky and deep sea, our after hour they looked for his appearance. The High Priest stood by his pedestal arms stretched up, then down, not knowing where Rue was, and sang incantations to him.

Tangor examined all around the temple grounds, its deep sub terrain, it was an ancient site—indeed and its foundation weak. The complex had round edges, old pillars. The more Tangor looked through his telescope, and at the girl that was to be sacrificed, the more she remained him of Yamoda: a young woman he once knew, and liked very much. And the more he reflected, the more he wanted to save the girl, even if it was only for one more year.

At the moment, Tangor’s spacecraft was the closest his ship would ever get to the planetoid, 130,000-miles. He came up with an idea, a notion. He had seven torpedoes in his munitions store, his armory, on his ship. If he could aim it right, and shoot at the compound: hit those pillars before the sacrifice came about, it would have to be rebuilt, the whole complex would fall on top of itself, and fill the worm hole completely.

Thus, he finally came to the conclusion he would try it, and so he aimed his ship 15-degrees to it right, and released one of his several torpedoes, it hit an asteroid, broke it up into one-hundred plus pieces or more, which fell like speeding bullets through Ice-caps atmosphere; a shower of debris of iron and nickel stuck together with solid stone, hitting the roof and pillars of the great temple, broke it down to its knees you could say. Tangor was in a gasp of astonishment that it worked. The metal flew every which way, sold rock stuck in-between the metals: it was a joyous day for the family of the girl whom was to be sacrificed, and a horrid and howling day for Rue.

11/16/2005 written while in Lima, Peru

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