If You Think You Know The Taelons...

Post to archives is encouraged as long as my name and title stay with the story.

 Author's Note: Beware of spoilers. This story is set between the episodes "Infection" and "Destruction." You should read my previous stories, "Hostage - Parts 1 through 4" and "Ma'el: Thinker, Dreamer, Achiever" before reading "If You Think You Know The Taelons..."

 Please feel free to use any of my characters for your own fanfictions, but keep their names and status quo as is in "If You Think You Know The Taelons...", and please tell me so I can read your story. For the purposes of this story, the characters of Tu'um, Le'er, Pu'ur, Wi'meh, and Taelon Spice will each be referred to as "she."

 Summary: What came first: the chicken or the egg? How do the Taelons really act when Quo'on is not around? Can burritos affect the sub-conscious? Can Taelons be audited by the IRS? What do Companions and their operatives do for excersize? Find out all this and more...

 Special thanks goes to the following authors for letting me use their characters in this story: Tina Price for her characters of Dro’vha and Kha’rha; Brown Unicorn (aka Browny) for her character of Ja’an; Tabakat for her character of La’an; and Kittykat and Squaresoft of their character of Sephiroth (aka Sephy). These characters can be found in more of Tina's, Browny's, and Tabakat's stories (and on Kittykat's website, Hyperion Station). Please ask permission from these authors before using their characters in your fanfiction.

 Additionally, special thanks goes to Tina, Browny, Sally, Tabakat, Kittykat, Starbaby, Hedy, and Rainbowdrop for things they’ve said to me, written, posted, or talked about which inspired events in this story. These individuals frequently post at the Philosophy Sphere and/or the Commonality. Thank you, everyone!

 This is meant to be a nonsense story that is strictly just for fun.
 

    * * *
 
 

    “Well, look. What do we have here? A petty little shuttle pilot,” Siobhan Beckett scoffed. Adorned in a low-cut, off-the-shoulder crimson evening gown, the Irish implant approached Captain Lili Marquette.
    Lili, wearing an elegant black-sequined dress with matching gloves, put her hands on her hips defiantly. She faced Siobhan, as the two women stood at the poolside of the patio.
    “Hello, Beckett!” Lili spat out, as though she was Jerry Seinfeld saying “Hello, Newman!”
    “Well, Marquette,” Beckett sized her rival up and down, “you’re looking as butch as ever today!”
    “Likewise,” replied Lili, through gritted teeth.
    “Shut up, you bleached brunette!” Beckett shouted.
    “Oh, by the way,” sneered Lili, “your skrill looks hideous!”
    “Yeah?! Well you look like Kari Wuhrer!” snarled Beckett.
    “I take that as a compliment,” declared Captain Marquette.
    Siobhan Beckett suddenly gave Lili Marquette a brisk slap across the face. Lili flinched in pain and shock. She then gave Beckett a harsh shove backward.
    “Catfight!” Augur shouted, as he reclined on a lawn chair while sipping an umbrella drink.
    “I bet ten bucks on butch Agent Beckett,” called out Sandoval, who was sitting next to Augur in an identical lawn chair.
    “Aw . . . I say ten dollars on the bleached brunette,” laughed Augur.
    Sandoval and Augur shook on it.
    Inconspicuously, Quo’on’s Taelon assistant, Dro’vha, tiptoed over to the edge of the pool, holding a microphone.
    “Who will prevail? Beckett or Marquette? Implant vs. Shuttle pilot,” Dro’vha whispered into his microphone.
    Lili and Siobhan were now pulling each other’s hair.
    “How juvenile,” remarked Sandoval, as he clinked umbrella drinks in a toast with Augur.
    Instantaneously, Beckett and Lili both fell over with a huge splash into the pool.
    “And it looks like a stalemate,” concluded Dro’vha, in a golf-announcer’s hushed whisper.
    Augur rolled his eyes. “I say next time we make them mud wrestle, what do you think, Sandy?”
    “I think I’m hungry,” said Sandoval.
    “Your timing is perfect then,” replied Dro’vha. He carried a tray of rice krispee bars over to the lounging Sandoval and Augur.
    “Did you make them yourself?” Sandoval interrogated him.
    Dro’vha dramatically positioned his hand against his forehead. “I slaved away all day preparing these rice krispee treats!” he wailed.
    “We don’t believe you,” challenged Augur.
    Dro’vha powdered some flour all over his face, to make it look as though he’d been baking in the kitchen all afternoon. “I worked so hard on these rice krispee treats!”
    “That’s better,” Augur approved.

    * * *

     “Lili, you look a little damp,” chuckled William Boone.
    “Shut up,” Lili grumbled through gritted teeth as she steered the shuttle through inter-dimensional. The captain still wore her now water-drenched black-sequined evening gown as she drove Da’an’s shuttle.
    “Captain,” Da’an spoke up, from where he sat behind Lili, “are you positive that your . . . wardrobe is appropriate for inter-dimensional flight?”
    “Since when are you the fashion police, Mr. Platform Shoes?” Lili sneered at Da’an.
    Da’an looked quite taken aback.
    “Furthermore, Siobhan Beckett is the last person who I intend to take orders from!” Lili tightened up as the shuttle made its descent to the ground.
    “I wish you might consider attempting to get along with your associates,” the North American Companion reasoned, “even if a particular level of animosity erects itself between the two of you.”
    Lili simply snorted and rolled her eyes.
    The trio then entered Da’an’s audience chamber at the Taelon embassy in Washington D.C. Standing in his office were two of Da’an’s fellow Companions, Zo’or and Tu’um.
    “Ah, there they are.” Tu’um addressed Da’an, Lili, and Boone with a big smile. “Zo’or and I are in the middle of a disagreement. Perhaps you might enlighten us?”
    “How can we help?” asked Boone.
    “We have been debating a most profound question,” Zo’or explained, somewhat haughtily.
    “And the question is? . . .” solicited Da’an.
    Tu’um looked at the group with her round, innocent blue eyes. “Which came first: the chicken or the egg?” she inquired.
    “I say it was the egg,” stated Zo’or, arrogantly. “After all, the Earth-chicken had to have hatched out of some entity.”
    “But where could this hypothetical egg have come from?” Tu’um contradicted. “My theory is that the chicken was created first, because it would have needed to lay the initial egg for subsequent chickens to systematically hatch out of.”
    Zo’or folded his arms and frowned at Tu’um. “And where precisely did this chicken-in-question come from?”
    “It was conceived by an eminent spiritual force stronger than you or I,” theorized Tu’um, as she tilted her head upward toward the heavens.
    Zo’or bristled. “The egg came first,” he insisted, stubbornly.
    “No, it was the chicken,” smiled Tu’um.
    “The egg!” Zo’or argued.
    “The chicken.”
    “Egg!”
    “Chicken.”
    “Egg!!”
    “Chicken.”
    “I shall settle this dispute,” offered Da’an. He put his fingers to his mouth and out came a sharp, piercing whistle. Instantly, Sandoval entered the room leading two chickens on leashes in front of him. Dro’vha followed behind Sandoval, holding a tray of piping-hot chicken pot-pies.
    “A treat.” Dro’vha extended the platter of chicken pot-pies to Boone and Lili.
    “Mmmmm,” said Boone. “Yum-yum, I do love chicken pot-pies!”
    “We will watch and observe the chickens,” announced Sandoval, “to see what happens.”
    Suddenly, one of the chickens broke free of its leash, ran over to Zo’or, and began climbing up the Taelon’s body. The chicken adamantly perched itself smack atop of Zo’or’s head.
    In the next second, the chicken promptly laid an egg, right then and there atop of Zo’or’s head.
    Crack! Crunch!
    “Blaaaah!” yelled Zo’or, as egg yoke ran down all sides of his head.
    Boone, Lili, Da’an, Tu’um, and Sandoval all began laughing at Zo’or.
    “It looks as though you have egg on your face, Zo’or,” giggled Tu’um.
    “Anyone for omelets?” asked Dro’vha.

    * * *

     “This meeting is adjourned.” Quo’on dismissed that day’s gathering of Taelon minds and bodies.
    Quo’on stood up, a stern look on his face. The Taelons at the meeting had been very rude and disruptive, whispering to each other and shuffling around during Quo’on’s speech. Still, they had managed to remain fairly attentive and intact as their leader spoke.
    Then Quo’on exited the meeting chamber of the Taelon mothership, staring over his shoulder suspiciously as he left. The Taelons all sat there politely and angelically, flashing cherubic grins at the departing Synod speaker.
    Once Quo’on was gone, the seated Companions, glowing in their true forms, immediately jumped up from their seats, sparkling with joyous excitement.
    “Conga!!!!” yelped Co’al, as he pulled out some castanets and began shaking them.
    Fu’sha jubilantly clicked on a stereo, a human invention that had been installed on the mothership for the Companions’ listening pleasure. Gloria Estefan’s “Conga,” accompanied by background sounds of lively calypso tunes, began blasting from the stereo speakers.
    The Taelons formed a conga line and snaked around the room while dancing to the glorious beat. Fu’sha was leading the Companion conga line, joyfully shaking some maracas and kicking his heels to the music. The other Companions followed Fu’sha’s lead.
    Meanwhile, two other Taelons, Ra’an and Pha’ra, were engaged in an intense game of chess. Ra’an made a brilliantly strategic move on the chess board.
    “Checkmate!” Ra’an called out.
    Then Co’al switched tracks on the stereo. He had now shifted the music over to a recording of Chubby Checker’s “The Twist,” a popular tune from the 1950s.
    All of the Taelons began doing “The Twist” together.
    Some of the more shy Taelons in the room were lounging around, poking or prodding each other in a teasing manner, or just tapping their feet along with the music.
    “Viva Chubby Checker!” shouted Co’al.
    Suddenly, the room went dead. Quo’on’s authoritative figure stood firmly in the doorway. He did not look pleased.
    “What is the meaning of this?!” Quo’on demanded.
    “Quo’on, we can explain . . .” stammered Co’al.
    “No excuses,” said Quo’on. “I don’t want to hear them. I would think that you would all have better taste in music.”
    Quo’on proceeded to change the dial on the stereo system. Soon, the 1980s song, “Walk Like An Egyptian,” was playing. Quo’on began to “walk like an Egyptian.”
    “Oh, good galactic grief,” groaned Fu’sha. “Next he’ll probably be ‘moonwalking’ to the droll sounds of Michael Jackson!”

    * * *

     “Is my burrito ready?!” asked Dr. Belman.
    “It’s still got five minutes to go,” William Boone reported. He was pacing back and forth in front of a small microwave in Belman’s lab, at Trinity Research Center. Belman and two Taelon scientists, Ve’ep and Pu’ur, were examining some samples of microbacteria.
    “These are quite friendly-looking creatures,” observed Ve’ep, as he examined the bacteria.
    Pu’ur was poking at the bacterial organisms tauntingly with a pair of tweezers.
    “Pu’ur, be nice to them,” Belman lectured.
    The digital microwave clock was ticking down. Only about three minutes remained until Belman’s burrito would be done.
    Ve’ep sighed, “Human food intrigues me so. If only us Taelons possessed digestive tracts.”
    Curiously, Pu’ur stood up and walked over to the microwave. She peered through the window at the heating Mexican treat.
    POP!
    Pu’ur had exploded and disappeared into thin air. Her Taelon energy particles scattered around like confetti, in every imaginable direction.
    “What happened?” gasped Ve’ep.
    Belman’s eyes looked as though they were about to bulge right out of their sockets.
    “It appears as though Pu’ur has disintegrated,” she ventured cautiously.
    “I guess she got too close to the microwave,” shrugged Boone.

    * * *

     Brrrr!!
    William Boone shivered in the intense Arctic cold. He was dressed in a warm, fuzzy parka, seated in a bobsled, next to . . . Da’an?
    Da’an was also wearing an Eskimo parka, and sat next to Boone. The docile Companion gripped onto the reins of the bobsled firmly but steadily.
    Wait a minute? What was wrong with this picture? Where were they? Why were they there?
    Da’an smiled warmly at Boone, and snapped the reins of the bobsled. Then Boone noticed. Strapped in at the very front of the team of bobsled dogs, was Zo’or. He was harnessed in tightly and didn’t look too happy.
    The other dogs, barking anxiously and loudly, began to pull the sled. Zo’or, forced to move forward or else be run over by the dog team, pulled the sled blue. Zo’or broke into a pathetic little jog, as he contributed only slightly to the locomotion of the bobsled.
    “Faster, Zo’or, faster!” encouraged Da’an
    Commander Boone laughed, amused, as Zo’or and the dogs pulled him and Da’an across the snowy Arctic countryside.

    * * *

     “Whoa!”
    Boone sat up in his bed. His stomach gurgled, and he groaned drowsily.
    “That’s the last time I eat a double-quesadilla and chili burrito before bed,” he agonized.
    Still rubbing his eyes from the strange dream, Boone trudged out of bed and went downstairs to his kitchen. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, and prepared for another day of work at the Taelon embassy.
    When he arrived outside of Da’an’s office that morning, Sandoval was there waiting for him.
    “Boone, we have a little . . . situation,” Sandoval said, mysteriously.
    Agent Sandoval stepped aside as Boone peered into Da’an’s audience chamber.
    “He is mine!”
    “He is not!”
    “It was a gift!”
    “Not anymore!”
    In the middle of the room stood little Ja’an, Da’an’s grandchild, clutching on to a cute stuffed teddy bear. Standing across from Ja’an was Le’er, the tall, vindictive Swedish Companion. Le’er was pulling on the teddy bear’s arm, trying to take it away from Ja’an. Da’an was sitting in his throne-like chair, fluctuating shades of blue as he watched the two Taelons quarrel.
    Boone couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What’s going on here?!” he demanded.
    “Da’an had given a stuffed animal to Ja’an as a gift,” explained Sandoval. “Le’er came for a visit and got jealous. She now wants Ted’dee for herself.”
    “Ted’dee?!” Boone almost laughed out loud at the corny name of Ja’an’s stuffed bear. Then the commander realized that Le’er was bullying around an innocent Taelon child, especially one who was as sweet as Ja’an.
    William Boone marched in. Upon spotting the entrance of his implant, Da’an looked mildly relieved. Ja’an turned to catch sight of Boone, and his eyes lit up joyfully.
    “William Boone!” Ja’an smiled at his friend.
    At that moment, Le’er was able to yank Ted’dee out of Ja’an’s grip.
    “Ha! He’s mine now!” Le’er smirked at Ja’an, and held Ted’dee triumphantly above her head.
    “Boone, Le’er has my Ted’dee! Please make her give him back!” Ja’an ran over to Boone and hugged the commander. The small Companion, with his round, angelic blue eyes, looked as though he was about to cry.
    “Le’er, give Ted’dee back to Ja’an,” Boone instructed.
    “No,” refused Le’er, simply.
    “Le’er . . .” Boone growled in a warning tone.
    “Make me!” Le’er was almost daring him to.
    “Let go of me, scary lady!” Ted’dee suddenly spoke up.
    Le’er nearly freaked out from shock. Instead, she began beating Ted’dee against the wall.
    “Owwww!!!” moaned Ted’dee.
    “Stop, Le’er!” begged Ja’an.
    Da’an approached the Scandinavian Companion diplomatically. “Le’er, please return Ted’dee to his rightful owner!” Da’an asked politely.
    “Never!!” declared Le’er.
    Boone’s face was beginning to turn red.

    * * *

     Lili entered the Taelon embassy with La’an, the Companion to Earth’s youth and artists. La’an and Lili had formed a bond of sorts, and had become good allies.
    “What is going on here?” asked La’an.
    Le’er clutched Ted’dee stubbornly.
    “She stole my Ted’dee, and won’t give him back!” cried Ja’an.
    “Le’er!” Lili put her hands on her hips. “How dare you treat a kid as sweet as Ja’an this way!”
    Captain Marquette came over and hugged Ja’an.
    “She is behaving most unreasonably,” Da’an pointed out, as he shot a glare at the Swedish Companion.
    “Le’er, give Ted’dee back to Ja’an. Now!” mandated La’an.
    “No!” Le’er yelled.
    “We must settle this peacefully,” Da’an reasoned.
    “Why don’t we play a game of ‘rock-paper-scissors’ to determine who gets Ted’dee?” suggested Sandoval.
    “Ted’dee is my friend,” stressed Ja’an. The Taelon child was flustering blue.
    Boone angrily grabbed Le’er’s arm, but the Taelon swatted him away. Before any of them knew it, Le’er had fled from the room with Ted’dee in tow.
    “She’s running away with Ted’dee!” Ja’an cried out helplessly.
    La’an put her hand on Ja’an’s shoulder and patted him maternally.
    “Do not worry, little one,” La’an comforted him. “We will get Ted’dee back for you. We will rescue him from that horrible Companion, Le’er.”
    Da’an gave La’an a thankful look.
    “Lili, please come with me,” solicited La’an.
    The confused Lili allowed La’an to guide her from Da’an’s office.
    “La’an, how are you going to save Ted’dee from Le’er’s evil clutches?” Lili asked her Companion.
    “I have my ways,” responded La’an, mysteriously. “Lili, I’d like you to help me with this. You are the closest thing to an attaché that I have. I need an ally such as you who is not going to take stupid orders from the Synod.”
    “What do we do?”
    “I will show you.”
    La’an led Lili to a go-kart that was parked in the lot outside of the Taelon embassy.
    “We can track down and capture Le’er in this vehicle,” explained La’an. “Lili, would you please be willing to drive it?”
    They got in and Lili began to drive the go-kart. La’an dictated directions to Lili, and seemed to know exactly where to go.
    “Wouldn’t it be faster to use the shuttle?” asked Lili.
    “No. Too slow. Le’er is traveling on foot. We’ll never catch her if we travel through dimensions.”
    Sure enough, before long they spotted Le’er, jogging down the street while still clutching ahold of Ted’dee.
    La’an took out a bullhorn. “Stop!” she commanded to Le’er.
    Le’er glanced at them, and kept on running. She pumped her arms faster and faster as she scurried down the street.
    “You can run, but you can’t hide,” La’an warned Le’er.
    Lili veered the go-kart so it was cruising along side-by-side with Le’er, who was still running with all her might.
    “Go away!” Le’er shouted at them.
    “Give back Ted’dee, then!” Lili called back to the Companion.
    “Never!”
    “Fine then, have it your way,” said La’an.
    In the next moment, La’an had pulled out a gigantic butterfly net. With one swift swoop, she reached out and slammed down the net over Le’er’s head. La’an’s butterfly net covered Le’er’s entire body, trapping the Taelon.
    Le’er scowled at La’an.
    “Traitor,” growled Le’er.
    “Shut up,” La’an replied.
    Lili grabbed Ted’dee out of Le’er’s hand.
    “I’ll be returning him to Ja’an, thank you very much,” smirked the shuttle pilot.
    “Ahh! My heroes!” sighed Ted’dee, beaming thankfully at Lili and La’an.

    * * *

     Lili Marquette sat up in her bed.
    “Wow,” she yawned. “Boone and I sure have some bizarre dreams.”
    The captain’s stomach grumbled. Promptly, Dro’vha entered Lili’s bedroom, holding a tray of burritos.
    “Care for a midnight snack?” Dro’vha offered.

    * * *

     After finding her burrito, Lili tried to fall asleep again, but she couldn’t. So she watched an old early-morning rerun of “Webster” before getting dressed and driving to work. On her way to the Taelon embassy, Lili pulled up in her car to the drive-thru at McDonald’s.
    “How may I help you?” came a voice through the drive-thru speaker that sounded oddly like the voice of a Taelon.
    “Uh . . .,” Lili paused groggily. She must not have gotten enough caffeine that morning. “One Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Biscuit . . . and a cup of coffee, please. Black, extra large!”
    “$2.54,” was the reply she received. “Please proceed forth to the next window.”
    As Lili drove ahead, she silently told herself to get a grip. Her server had sounded almost exactly like . . .
    “Dro’vha!” Lili blurted out, as she saw Quo’on’s assistant holding out a McDonald’s bag to her.
    “One Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Biscuit, captain,” smiled Dro’vha congenially. “I put extra bacon in it specially for you. And one cup of coffee,” he added, extending a paper container filled with piping hot java.
    “Oh, uh . . . thank you . . .” Lili stuttered. She took her order and paid Dro’vha. “Keep the change,” she told him through the window.
    “Oh, good,” Dro’vha said happily. “Now I’ll be able to buy Ja’an that beany-baby he wants for Christmas. Thank you, Lili.”
    “I didn’t know that Taelons celebrated Christmas,” muttered Lili, as she drove off.
    When Captain Marquette arrived at Da’an’s office, she met up with a woman whom she’d never met before, in the entranceway. The woman was wearing a blue business suit and held a folded-up laptop computer under her arm. She had curly red hair and had a serious, unsympathetic expression on her face.
    “Who are you?” Lili asked, still munching on her Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Biscuit.
    “Don’t talk with your mouth full!” snapped the woman.
    Lili hiccuped.
    “What was that?!”
    Captain Marquette perceived this woman as being very rude. “Do you have a name?!” Lili reiterated impatiently.
    “Diana VanKirk, Internal Revenue Service. Who are YOU?!”
    “Lili Marquette, Companion Shuttle Pilot. So you’re an IRS monster, are you?”
    Diana didn’t look amused. “I am looking for the Companion, Da’an,” she declared, importantly. “Where is he?!”
    “Well why don’t I escort you to him?” Lili shot back icily. She really didn’t care for this stranger.
    Lili and Diana approached Da’an, who was meditating in his throne-like chair. Swirls of cloudy blue energy surrounded him.
    “Is this some kind of sick joke?” scoffed Diana, stiffly.
    Da’an suddenly awoke from his trance. “A visitor?” he observed, noticing Diana.
    “Da’an, the Companion to North America, I presume?” questioned Diana.
    “Yes?”
    “Diana VanKirk, Internal Revenue Service,” she announced. “Mr. Da’an, you are being audited.”
    “Pardon me?” Da’an had a blank look on his face.
    “You heard me, baldy!” spat out Diana.
    “Wait! You can’t audit Da’an!” Lili cut in.
    “Why not? Are you going to stop me, stick-lady?” Diana challenged Lili.
    “Oh, that does it!” Lili was steaming now. The captain irately took a swing at Diana, who ducked.
    “Captain Marquette!” gasped Da’an.
    “Ha! You missed me!” Diana stuck out her tongue at Lili.
    It was then that Sandoval charged into the audience chamber. “What is going on here?!” he demanded.
    “Who are you, bub?” Diana VanKirk gave Agent Sandoval a brisk little poke in his stomach.
    “I believe the question is, rather, who are YOU?” insisted Sandoval, sternly.
    “I’m representing the Internal Revenue Service,” she answered gruffly. “Mr. Da’an is being audited.”
    “Oh no he isn’t!” shouted Sandoval. “The Companions have no obligation whatsoever to pay taxes. They are visitors to our planet and have done wonders for humanity. If you think you’re going to audit Da’an, then you’re out of your mind!”
    “I guess I’m out of my mind then,” Diana mocked Sandoval. She stepped forward but Sandoval blocked her path.
    “You’ll have to get past me first,” he warned her.
    Immediately, Diana’s eyes began to turn a fluorescent gleam of orange. As Sandoval stared at her face, he froze up. Diana pushed him out of the way and marched up to Da’an. Lili quickly ran to Da’an’s side.
    “One moment, captain,” Da’an interjected. The alien faced Diana. “I have the address of someone who may be a more suitable recipient of this . . . audit that you wish to give.”
    Da’an whispered something into Diana’s ear.

    * * *

     “Excuse me! Are you Zo’or, Companion Ambassador to the United Nations?” a warlike voice resonated through the audience chamber of the U.N. Taelon embassy.
    “Yes,” Zo’or’s hostile voice answered.
    “Diana VanKirk, Internal Revenue Service,” Diana introduced herself. “Mr. Zo’or, you are being audited.”
    “But I . . .”
    “Quiet!” barked Diana.
    “A Companion cannot be audited!” Zo’or protested.
    “Bullfrogs!” Diana shoved Zo’or down into the seat of his Big Chair. “Now we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way! Your choice!”
    The Companion smirked and chuckled at the abrasive woman.
    “Don’t you laugh at me, Mr. Clean!” shrieked Diana. “Remember, I’ve eaten Jaridians for breakfast! So a scrawny Taelon like you will only amount to an appetizer!”
    Zo’or could tell that he was in for a long afternoon.

    * * *

     “One, two, three, four! . . .”
    “One thousand and three, one thousand and four, one thousand and five, one thousand and six! . . .”
    Lili was gasping for breath as she continued jumping rope.
    “Lili, you’re going to over-exert yourself,” cautioned Dr. Belman, who was present at the Happy Taelon Health Spa that afternoon. Belman had been working at the snack bar as a dietary consultant.
    With beads of sweat pulsating down her skin, Lili collapsed to the floor.
    “I told you so,” Belman said, shaking her head in disapproval.
    “So you’re a spineless weakling, eh Marquette?” Beckett taunted, as she worked out effortlessly at an adjacent Stair-Master.
    “Siobhan, you be careful too,” Belman warned the Irish attaché.
    “Ah, fiddlesticks!” Siobhan Beckett kept on working her legs on the Stair-Master. “A girl’s got to keep her figure, you know. Say, Julianne, you could stand to lose a few pounds yourself. Actually, more than a few.”
    Belman’s face turned red as she glared at Beckett.
    “Ooooooh, I wouldn’t want to be you right now,” Lili told Beckett. The captain headed for the snack bar, leaving her jump rope behind.
    Beckett snickered nervously. “Aw, Belman, you know I was just joking with you, don’t ya’, lass?”
    “So, Beckett,” Dr. Belman spoke icily. “You like to jog, do you?”
    “Well, it keeps me thighs trim.”
    “Oh, well then have I got a treat for your thighs,” said Belman.
    The doctor clicked the switch on Beckett’s Stair-Master, shifting it to the highest level. Agent Siobhan Beckett began doing rigorous, uncontrollable repetitions on her exercise machine against her will. She tried to reach the switch to turn it off, but Belman had set the Stair-Master at such a rapid speed that Siobhan lost her grip every time she attempted to touch the off switch.
    “Yeeeeeeeeoooooooooowwwwwwwwwww!!!!!” screeched Beckett.
    “Have fun,” smiled Belman, evilly, as she sauntered away.
    Meanwhile, Lili was sitting at the snack bar sipping a glass of carrot juice. Working at the bar that day was Kwai Ling Hong, the intriguing manager of the Flat Planet Café. Kwai Ling looked quite aggravated, especially since she was working with a Taelon named Qua’lut, a somewhat husky, deep-voiced being. Basically, Kwai Ling hated most of the Taelons whom she knew, with the exceptions of Tu’um and Co’al.
    “Is the beverage to your satisfaction?” Qua’lut asked Lili.
    “Delicious.”
    “It’s my special recipe,” winked Kwai Ling.
    “Hey, how about a banana smoothie for the good doctor?” called Belman, as she approached the juice bar.
    “Great, I’ll serve it up as soon as she gets here,” Kwai Ling joked dryly.
    Belman stuck out her tongue. “Very funny.”
    “I thought so.”
    “Of course you did.”
    “Come one, admit it. You love us Flat Planet groupies.”
    “Kwai Ling, if that was true then I would be dating Augur by now.”
    Lili nearly spat out her carrot juice. “Belman, Augur is my love god! Don’t you dare even touch him!”
    Qua’lut was suppressing a laugh.
    At that moment, Wi’meh, the Taelon who served as the Companion activities director of the Happy Taelon Health Spa, strode over to the bar. Wi’meh was dressed in work-out sweats and wore a headband around her bald anterior.
    “Has anyone seen Dro’vha?” Wi’meh asked.
    “No, why?” answered Belman.
    Wi’meh slowly rotated her head toward the doctor. “I need him for an important task,” she explained.
    Dro’vha suddenly ran out from the back of the bar. He held a tall glass filled with a strawberry-kiwi smoothie, and handed it to Kwai Ling.
    “My favorite!” exclaimed the Asian bartender. “Dro’vha, how did you know?”
    “It’s my job.” Dro’vha gave Kwai Ling a crisp, military salute.
    “Ooooh, I like this one,” noted Kwai Ling, as she gestured to Dro’vha.
    “Dro’vha, I need you to assist at Da’an’s yoga class,” Wi’meh requested. “It is pertinent that you distribute ice water to the thirsty humans.”
    “I can do that.” Dro’vha saluted again. “Glad to oblige.”

    * * *

     A mixed group of about thirty humans and approximately twenty Taelons were gathered in a large work-out room. Da’an sat peacefully at the front of the room, facing the big group. He was curled up in a lotus position.
    “We shall now commence,” Da’an instructed to the group.
    Slowly, yet gracefully, Da’an began to lead the group of humans and Taelons in a series of relaxing yoga exercises. Belman and Lili wandered into the room to observe. Dro’vha followed behind them, pushing a wheelbarrow that contained jugs of ice cold water.
    “Wow, I never knew that Da’an was so limber,” observed Lili.
    Dr. Belman just rolled her eyes. “I think this is bizarre. I mean, it’s healthy, but it seems weird.”
    “Weird? How?” piped up Dro’vha.
    “Well,” replied Dr. Belman, “Da’an teaching yoga? What next, Zo’or instructing step aerobics?!”

    * * *

     “One, two, three, step! One, two, three, step!”
    Zo’or begrudgingly led the students in an energetic series of step aerobics. The Companion was gasping for air, doing one exhausting repetition after another.
    “Come on, Zo’or! Get with the program!” called out Co’al, who was stretching out his limber body on the floor.
    Lili and Kwai Ling, who were watching the spectacle on the sidelines, giggled to keep up with his active aerobics students.
    “Blah! This is torturous!” Zo’or complained.
    Weary from exhaustion, the U.N. Companion fainted, hyperventilating as he collapsed to the ground.
    “Flatfoot!” chastised Wi’meh, as she sprinted over in her informal Taelon jogging suit. “Don’t turn blue, Zo’or. You only have five more hours of this left on your community service timecard.”

    * * *

     “Boone, I have some important business to attend to. Would you mind looking after Ja’an for the afternoon?” Da’an gestured to his pint-sized Taelon grandchild.
    “Of course.” Boone was happy to spend time with Ja’an.
    Ja’an’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights. “Can Captain Marquette come with us too, Commander Boone?” the Taelon child asked politely, yet excitedly.
    “I don’t see why not.”
    Lili smiled. She was glad to spend the afternoon with Ja’an, but also because she’d be getting away from Sandoval, who was quite grumpy that day.
    “Da’an, you have much more crucial matters to address. You needn’t stress yourself out over this . . . ,” the attaché glared at Ja’an, “. . . rugrat.”
    “Agent Sandoval, my grandchild is one of my essential priorities,” Da’an lectured his attaché, somewhat coldly.
    Sandoval pouted. “The Companions are not on Earth to baby-sit,” he said, bitterly shooting another glare at Ja’an.
    Ja’an returned the glare.
    “Then you won’t mind if Commander Boone and Captain Marquette entertain Ja’an for the afternoon,” reasoned Da’an.
    “Come on, Ja’an.” Boone took the Companion’s small hand and began to lead him out of Da’an’s office. Lili took ahold of Ja’an’s other hand.
    Soon, the three of them were leisurely strolling through the city park.
    “Boone? Lili? Why does Agent Sandoval hate me?” Ja’an asked his two human friends.
    Boone sighed. “Sandoval hates everyone,” he told Ja’an.
    “Plus he has a giant stick up his butt,” added Lili.
    All the while, Ja’an would stop and curiously reach down to pick up leaves which had fallen from the trees.
    “I believe this is a . . . red maple,” determined Ja’an, examining the latest leaf that he’d found.
    “Ja’an, I’ve been wondering,” Boone asked, “have you had any ideas of what you might want to be when you grow up?”
    Ja’an thought about that for a moment. “Yes,” he replied. “I might like to serve as a scientist, such as Ne’eg who recently joined the void. A most unfortunate occurrence.”
    “We’ll all miss Ne’eg,” agreed Lili.
    “Or,” continued Ja’an, “I might want to be a diplomat, such as my grandparent, Da’an.”
    “Following in his footsteps,” realized Boone.
    “Precisely.”
    “Those are great goals, Ja’an,” Lili encouraged him.
    “Thank you.” Ja’an bent down to pick up another leaf. “I don’t believe I have studied this one before,” Ja’an noted, examining the leaf.
    Lili took a closer look at it. “Yikes!” she shrieked, jumping back. “Ja’an, that’s poison ivy!”
    Ja’an looked mortified. “Poison?”
    “Don’t worry,” Boone assured him. “It won’t hurt you. Poison ivy leaves pose no threat to Taelons biologically. You’ll be fine.”
    “It’ll have no effect on you,” Lili chimed in, “however, if Boone or I touch that leaf, our skin will become covered with horrendous spots which itch like crazy.”
    “Oh, no. Perhaps I should get rid of it?” Ja’an didn’t want anything bad to happen to his friends.
    “No, it’s okay, Ja’an,” Boone said. “Just don’t let Lili or I or any other human touch the poison ivy leaf, or else we’ll become infected.”
    Ja’an nodded and added the poison ivy to his collection, and kept on seeking new leaves.
    Suddenly, a majestic blue heron fluttered past them.
    “What a marvelous creature!” exclaimed Ja’an. The Taelon child then spotted a flock of crows gathered in a circle on the pathway in front of them.
    “Ja’an, would you like to feed the birds?” Boone offered.
    “Yes, thank you.”
    Boone handed Lili some change, and the captain approached a park vending machine that contained birdseed. Lili purchased some seed and walked back to Boone and Ja’an.
    All of a sudden, about a dozen of the crows flew right at Captain Marquette.
    “Lili!” shouted Ja’an.
    The crows were all pecking at Lili. She scattered the birdseed on the ground, but instead of eating it, the birds clutched onto Lili, lifted her upward into the air, and began flying away with her.
    “Help!!!” screamed Lili.
    Ja’an began throwing pebbles at the crows, but his aim wasn’t high enough.
    “Bring Captain Marquette back here . . . NOW!!!” Boone commanded at the birds.
    But they just flew higher and higher, pulling Lili with them up toward the clouds.

    * * *

     Augur nearly fell off his mattress. He rubbed his head and scanned his cluttered, high-tech apartment.
    “I’ve had some pretty strange dreams,” murmured Augur, “but that one tops them all!”
    “Hello, sweet thing!”
    There was Lili, standing in Augur’s doorway, wearing a seductive, off-the-shoulder velvety-green evening gown.
    “Hel-lo, Miss Marquette!” Augur exclaimed, his face adorning a smile.
    “It’s just you and me, sexy stuff,” Lili cooed, approaching Augur and falling into his lap.
    “Ooooh, tell me more,” purred Augur.

    * * *

     WHACK!
    “I’m telling you, Augur! Wake up, right now!”
    “Ow!” Augur rubbed his aching head, and saw Belman standing there with her hands on her hips, clutching ahold of a rolled-up newspaper.
    “Augur, quit dreaming about Lili and focus on your work!” Belman demanded.
    “Aw, Julianne . . . you interrupted the best part,” Augur whined.
    WHACK!
    “Ow!”
    “I’m serious, techno-boy!” Belman seemed very adamant.
    “Where’s the fire, Belman?”
    “In your pants, Augur. Meanwhile, you fell asleep at your computer and Jonathan has something ‘very important’ to tell us.”
    There stood Jonathan Doors, with a grim and pompous glare plastered on his face.
    “What do you want, old man?” laughed Augur.
    Doors didn’t look amused.
    “Boone and Marquette are taking a trip to Ireland tomorrow . . .” the billionaire began.
    “Oooooh, can I come too?! Can I come too?!” Augur jumped up and down in mock excitement.
    “Knock it off!” Doors sneered. He regained his composure and continued. “Julianne is leaving tonight because the Companions want her to attend a medical conference.”
    “I get the immense ‘pleasure’ of working with Pu’ur,” groaned Belman, sardonically.
    “Why can’t Park go instead?”
    “She’s already assisting Kee’sha with some project in Athens,” Belman explained. “Lucky her,” the doctor added dryly.
    “So we need you to conjure up a virus that will monitor the Taelon computer records at the Dublin medical facility,” concluded Doors.
    “What exactly am I supposed to make this virus do?” Augur asked mockingly.
    “Hack into the Companion medical records in Dublin, and make sure that Pu’ur isn’t up to anything sneaky!” snapped Doors. “We don’t know what kinds of underhanded tricks she’ll try to pull.”
    “And if I know Pu’ur, which I do,” cut in Belman, “then she won’t hesitate to carry out whatever orders Zo’or or Le’er might throw at her, no questions asked.”
    “Why can’t you keep an eye on Pu’ur instead?” Augur stared Belman straight in the face.
    “I’m going to try to,” Belman answered. “I’ll do my best to distract Pu’ur. But she’s still going to do anything the Synod tells her to. We need your ingenuity to prevent a potential crisis.”
    “Well, you’ve got a point there,” smirked Augur. “But what makes you think that I can just whip up a virus on the spur of the moment?”
    “Because you’re Augur,” Belman impassively “praised” him.
    “That makes sense,” the inventor nodded and winked.

    * * *

     “Ja’an, I think you should go and rest.” The commander patted the Taelon child on the arm. Along with Lili, they had just returned from an afternoon at the movies.
    “Yes, Boone.” Ja’an hugged Boone and Lili in turn, and then scampered off to his chamber in the Taelon embassy.
    “Ja’an is such a good kid,” Lili commended.
    “Yeah, he is.”
    Boone and Lili were both thinking about what it would be like to be parents.
    “Commander, captain, come in here at once!” Their thoughts were interrupted by Agent Sandoval’s grating voice.
    “What’s your problem?” barked Lili, as she and Boone entered Da’an’s audience chamber.
    They saw Da’an sitting in his throne-like chair, Sandoval now standing to Da’an’s right. Another woman, dressed pragmatically with long, flowing, dark brunette hair was also standing in the room.
    “Commander, where is Ja’an?” Da’an inquired.
    “I sent him off to his sleeping quarters,” answered Boone. He looked at the woman who was in the room. “Who is this?”
    Before Da’an could answer, the woman stepped forward.
    “Allow me to introduce myself,” she said, extending her hand to Boone. “My name is Anita LaQuicksilver. I am a marketing representative for the agency of Flores, Hemblen, & Parker, serving the greater Washington D.C. area.”
    “Never heard of them,” grumbled Sandoval.
    Anita ignored Sandoval. “Let me explain what we at Flores, Hemblen, & Parker can to for you.”
    Upon the word “you,” Anita swiveled around and pointed right at Da’an.
    “Please elaborate,” requested Da’an.
    Sandoval looked taken aback. “Da’an, surely you cannot . . .”
    Anita pushed Sandoval out of the way and marched right up to Da’an’s chair. She immediately unzipped her tote bag and took out what looked like a plush, miniature doll resembling Da’an.
    “What is this?” Da’an solicited, as he fingered the Da’an-doll.
    “It’s a beany-baby,” Anita informed him. “A Taelon beany-baby, to be exact.”
    “It looks exactly like me,” an astounded Da’an observed.
    “Miss LaQuicksilver,” Sandoval interjected, “surely you cannot seriously . . .”
    “Ms.” Anita corrected him.
    “Whatever!” Sandoval eyes Ms. LaQuicksilver’s tote bag. “What other little ‘surprises’ have you got in there?”
    Anita began pulling out more Taelon beany-babies. “We’ve got a wide variety,” she told him. “Here’s a Quo’on, and a Kee’sha, and a Ne’eg, and a Tu’um . . .”
    “Oooooh,” Lili squealed, as she snatched up the Tu’um beany-baby. “I’ve just got to show this to Tu’um! She’ll be ecstatic!”
    “. . . and a Zo’or . . .” Anita continued showing them the various beany-babies.
    “Oh, no! Too ugly!” protested Boone. “Sorry Anita, but the Zo’or beany-baby just won’t sell.”
    “Did I hear my name mentioned?” a sharp, unfriendly voice called out.
    Zo’or waltzed into the embassy and marched over to Anita LaQuicksilver.
    “Here you go,” Anita handed Zo’or a Zo’or beany-baby. Zo’or cradled the beany-baby in his arms and rocked it back and forth.
    “So whadd’ya think?!” Anita asked Da’an.
    “I like it,” smiled Da’an. “What else do you have?”
    “Well, kids of Earth often get scared of the dark at night. So what better of a way to welcome Taelons into Americans’ homes than . . .” Anita pulled an object out of her bag, “. . . Taelon night-lites!”
    “Wow.” Boone was in awe.
    “They glow in the dark,” said Anita.
    “How intriguing,” commented Da’an.
    “This would certainly ease any trepidations possessed by the children of Earth toward the Companions. The last thing we desire is for children of Earth to fear us.”
    “This will definitely do the trick!” pitched Anita.
    Sandoval didn’t seem convinced. “What else have you got, Ms. LaQuicksilver?” he questioned, folding his arms.
    Anita grinned. “We at Flores, Hemblen, & Parker are quite eager to make money off of - - er, for - - the Companions. We’d like to venture into the food industry via . . .” she pulled what resembled a blue popsicle out of her tote bag, “. . . Taelon Glow-pops!”
    Lili snatched a Glow-pop from Anita and gave it a lick. “Yum,” she tasted it and smacked her lips. “Boone, you’ve got to try this!”
    Boone took a Glow-pop and wrapped his lips around it. “Mmmmm! They’re fruitily delicious!”
    “This is ridiculous!” shouted Sandoval. “Am I the only sane one in the room?!”
    Just then, Anita took another Glow-pop and shoved it into Sandoval’s mouth. Sandoval instantly had a dreamy, far-away expression of satisfaction in his eyes.
    Boone had finished his Glow-pop. “I want more!” he demanded.
    Dro’vha entered the embassy carrying a large cooler that was over-flowing with blue Taelon Glow-pops. Boone, Lili, and Sandoval pigged out!
    “Ms. LaQuicksilver,” Da’an addressed Anita, “I am curious. Might we consider venturing into the ever-expanding world of human . . . fashion?”
    “You read my mind!” Anita LaQuicksilver slapped Da’an on the back. “You know, Da’an, I just adore this sparkly-black number that you’re wearing right now. How does this sound as a company name: ‘Jumpsuits By Da’an’?”
    A twinkle appeared in the Companion’s eye. “I like it . . .”

    * * *

     Lili’s stomach gurgled as she landed the shuttle in Dublin, Ireland.
    “I think I overdid it on the Glow-pops,” she commented, patting her full stomach.
    Boone and Sandoval were both there, to accompany Da’an and Ja’an to a Taelon reception at Kha’rha’s embassy. Kha’rha was the Companion to both Ireland and the United Kingdom, as well as a good confident of Da’an’s.
    “So Beckett was going to meet us here and drive us to the embassy?” Boone double-checked with Sandoval.
    “Affirmative,” confirmed Ronald Sandoval. “Beckett was very specific as to Kha’rha’s wishes. I assume he wants Beckett to drive us there so it doesn’t look too obvious.”
    “Yeah, my shuttle is such a sore thumb,” grumbled Lili, bitterly.
    “Aw, come on Lili. You can’t take all of Beckett’s actions personally.” Boone gave his partner a reassuring pat on her shoulder.
    The implants carefully helped Da’an and Ja’an out of the shuttle. At that very moment, a black limousine with tinted windows pulled up to them at the shuttle’s launchpad. One of the windows rolled down as Beckett’s head poked out.
    “Hey, hop in!” Siobhan called out to them.
    The inside of the limousine was luxuriously decorated like a miniature hotel suite. Commander Boone and Captain Marquette helped the two Taelons into the limo and then slid into the backseat with them. Sandoval, however, sat in the front next to Beckett who was seated beside the limo driver.
    “Let’s go,” commanded Beckett.
    No response.
    “What the . . .”
    Their chauffeur had fainted. He was slumped over in his seat, leaning unconsciously against Beckett’s shoulder. Agent Beckett sniffed his breath.
    “It’s just as I suspected!” wailed Beckett. “He’s been drinking peppermint schnapps, and the imbecile can’t even hold his liquor!” She frantically shook the snoozing driver. “Wake up, you drunken bum!”
    “Give it a rest, Beckett,” Boone grumbled. “He’s in Dream Land now. It looks like we’re stuck.”
    “Not if I can help it!” With that, Beckett thrust their sleeping chauffeur aside and positioned herself behind the steering wheel.
    “Beckett, you’re not seriously going to drive us there yourself, are you?” Captain Marquette challenged.
    “Aye. You can bet your bloomers I am!” Agent Beckett turned the key in the ignition.
    “We’re doomed,” sighed Lili, rolling her eyes. “I knew we should’ve taken the shuttle.”
    Stuff it, Marquette!” Beckett slammed her foot down on the accelerator.
    VROOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!
    The limousine sped off, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Beckett awkwardly and hastily veered the vehicle onto the highway.
    “Grandparent, I feel dizzy,” Ja’an told Da’an. “Please ask Beckett to slow down.”
    Siobhan overheard Ja’an’s comment. “No dice, young whippersnapper!” she snarled.
    Ja’an looked a bit offended.
    “Beckett!” Da’an gasped, quite flabbergasted.
    “Aw, go tell it to your platform shoes, Da’an!” Siobhan shot back.
    Beckett howled like a werewolf and drove even faster down the highway. She turned on the radio. A Diana Ross song was playing. Beckett began bobbing her head along with the music, and let out another werewolf howl.
    Soon, Aretha Franklin’s song, “Respect,” came onto the radio. Beckett began whirling her head around in circles to the lyrics.
    “Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me!”
    Ba-dum!
    “Just a little bit! . . .”
    Lili stuck her fingers in her ears and squinched her eyes shut.
    “R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Find out what it means to me! . . .”
    After about fifteen more minutes of endless motown tunes, the limo passengers had had enough.
    “AUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” screamed Lili. “I’m going bananas!!!!”
    “Beckett, would you turn the radio down just a smidge!?” asked Sandoval, actually disguising that order as a question.
    “Quiet, Sandy!” Beckett turned the music up even louder.
    But before long, the limousine found itself stuck in the middle of a traffic jam on the highway.
    “Oh, great!” groaned Boone.
    “Come on, you sluggish turtles!” Beckett honked her horn and shouted out the window.
    BANG!
    Another car had just rammed into the back bumper of the limousine.
    Beckett looked furious. “The bloody bloke just rear-ended me!” she hollered, infuriated. Siobhan Beckett marched out of the limo, ranting out loud and hurling all kinds of obscenities left and right.
    “This oughtta be good.” Lili rolled her eyes.
    “You blasted roundhead!” they could hear Beckett yelling to the driver behind them. “I oughtta take down your license and registration! Don’t you even watch where you’re going, you fool?!
    Da’an glanced in the rearview mirror. “Boone, take a look,” the alien indicated.
    They could see Beckett, standing outside of the car that had just rear-ended her. She was screaming at the top of her lungs at the driver.
    The driver seemed to be ignoring her, and Beckett was now pounding on his window. “Open up right now, coward! Or I’ll yank your car door right off of its hinges!”
    Lili and Ja’an were now engrossed in an intense game of Candyland.
    Eventually, the traffic jam gradually moved forward. After two more hours, their group finally arrived at Kha’ra’s embassy.
    “Longest drive of my life!” moaned Lili, as she and Boone helped Da’an and Ja’an to exit the limousine.
    The Dublin embassy was structured almost exactly like Da’an’s embassy in Washington D.C., except Kha’rha’s contained endless works of colonial art and lots of hanging plants. Kha’rha’s embassy was the largest Companion headquarters on Earth. It included a public meeting hall with interactive television monitors for live press conferences, plus a reception and banquet room for humans to dine in.
    Already, Kha’rha’s embassy was overcrowded with Companions and their implants from around the world, as well as world media groups and paparazzi. Beckett excused herself so she could join Kha’rha and escort him out to greet his guests. Meanwhile, Ja’an scanned the large room, taking in everything at once. Because Ja’an was so small, there were a lot of things which he was unable to view from where he was standing.
    Amiably, Boone picked up Ja’an and lifted the small Taelon up onto his shoulders. “Here, Ja’an. Now you’ll be able to see everything that’s going on.”
    “Wow! Thank you, Commander Boone,” Ja’an said happily and thankfully. Da’an looked very pleased and smiled at Boone.
    “Attention, guests,” a British female voice announced over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, Companions and implants, Taelons and humans. Please give a warm welcome for the Companion to Great Britain and Ireland, Kha’rha!”
    A roar of applause reverberated through the reception hall, as Kha’rha gracefully entered the room, accompanies by Beckett. Stepping up to a podium, Kha’rha lilted a soft phrase in Euonia into the microphone.
    “I welcome you all to my humble celebration,” Kha’rha voiced to them. “As you know, anti-Companion resistance movements have been gaining momentum across the planet. I have called for this reception today in the hope that we may all put aside our differences and unite together as universal allies. In the hope that we might get to learn to understand each other to a better degree. I christen this day the first annual Taelon Day of Friendship.”
    Another roar of applause came from the crowd.
    “He is a wonderful speaker,” commented an amazed Lili.
    “The fun is just beginning, Captain Marquette,” Sandoval informed her. “Beckett told me about some of the upcoming entertainment for this evening. Things are about to become much more . . . lively.”

    * * *

     “Come back here, you preposterous rogue!”
    Dr. Belman ran through the reception hall, chasing after a six-foot-one-inch tall cackling human who had long, silver hair and emerald green eyes.
    “Sephy, give me back my remote control! Now!” Belman’s face was turning red, as she became more and more irate.
    “No way, dudette!” The mischievous villain, Sephiroth, clapped his hands together gleefully as he tauntingly waved Belman’s remote control over his head.
    “Sephiroth!! Dr. Quinn is coming on TV right now, young man, and I’m going to miss it because of you!” Belman shook her fist in the air.
    “Do I really care about your stupid TV show??!! No-o!!!” rumbled Sephy.
    “You little juvenile delinquent!” Dr. Belman showed her fist to Sephy. “Now give me back my remote before I knock your teeth out!”
    “No!” A cackle sprung loose from Sephy’s vocal chords.
    Kha’rha was standing there, looking quite confused. Beckett stepped forward and interrupted the fight between Belman and Sephy.
    “Pardon me, Julianne,” Agent Beckett stated, “but the young lad just seems to be having a wee bit of fun here.”
    “Oh, yeah! Deep words,” Dr. Belman voiced, “coming from a woman whose supposedly Irish accent sounds as though it was slapped on with a butterknife!”
    Beckett put her hands on her hips and gasped.
    With that, Belman snatched back her remote control from Sephy’s grasp, and ran.
    “Hey!” Sephy put his hands on his hips.
    “Where did she scamper off to?” Siobhan asked, annoyed.
    “Quite possibly, the telecommunications and media wing of my embassy,” guessed Kha’rha helpfully, as he gestured toward the direction that Belman had run off in.
    Kha’rha led Beckett and Sephy to an exotically-decorated chamber with televisions and computers, assembled in a communal, lounge-type atmosphere. Dr. Belman and Pu’ur were sitting on a soft settee, watching an episode of “Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.”
    “This Jane Seymour is a stupendous thespian,” commented Pu’ur.
    “See, I told you that you’d like American TV,” Belman smiled.
    Sephy grabbed the remote control out of Pu’ur’s hands. “Ha! Ha!” he stuck his tongue out at Belman.
    “Sephiroth, you give that back to me right now!” Belman shouted.
    “No! It’s mine now!” Sephy cackled.
    “Not anymore,” said a sharp voice.
    Ronald Sandoval had confiscated the remote control from Sephy’s grip.
    “Hey!” exclaimed Sephy.
    “Besides,” began Sandoval, plopping down next to Pu’ur on the settee, “my favorite show is about to come on.”
    Sandoval clicked the TV on to the BBC television network.
    “Time for . . .,” the Asian implant grinned from ear to ear, “. . . Teletubbies!”
    “Oh, great!” groaned Belman.
    “I love that show!” Kha’rha raved.
    “Then you’re in for a treat,” Sandoval said. He sighed. “I just adore Po.”
    “Really? I’m partial to Tinky Winky,” Pu’ur spoke up.
    “I like Dipsy,” Kha’rha chimed in. “And don’t forget Laa Laa.”
    “Aw, who could forget Laa Laa?” gushed Sandoval.
    “One question I possess,” Pu’ur turned to Sandoval and asked. “Why does Po ride about on her scooter so frequently?”
    “Because she wants to!” Sandoval gritted his teeth. “Don’t you be dissing my girl Po!”
    “Yeah, well I think they’re all dumb!” growled Belman.
    Sandoval gasped, in shocked disbelief.
    “You don’t like the Teletubbies?!” he interrogated her.
    “No, I don’t! I think that Tinky Winky is a simplistic conformist, and Laa Laa smiles to much!” seethed Belman. “I’d like to deflate Laa Laa’s pathetic little bouncy ball!”
    Sandoval gasped again.
    “You will do nothing of the sort!”
    “Aw, shut up!”

    * * *

     “Attention, everyone.”
    Kha’rha spoke into a podium microphone toward the left side of an amphitheater-like stage. This stage has been built in a separate wind of the embassy, designed as a type of auditorium, with over five hundred seats for guests spread out before the stage.
    “We shall now commence with this afternoon’s entertainment,” continued Kha’rha. “It is my esteemed pleasure to introduce for you viewing enjoyment - - our own Companion, Ve’ep, and his ingenious motor skills.”
    At that moment, Ve’ep came riding out onto the stage while atop a unicycle. The audience applauded politely as Ve’ep peddled back and forth across the stage on his unicycle.
    All of a sudden, Ve’ep held up a remote-controlled device for everyone to see.
    “I introduce to you, my quantum energy machine,” smiled Ve’ep. As he clicked on his remote-controlled timer, a majestically pink and red tinted portal appeared on the stage. Ve’ep’s spectators gasped in awe.
    Quo’on stood up, furious.
    “Ve’ep, turn that off this instant!” Quo’on commanded. “I thought we, the Synod, told you that your project had been discontinued?!”
    Kha’rha seemed intrigued. “Let him show us, Quo’on.”
    “No!” barked Quo’on. The Synod speaker marched right up onto the stage and tried to take the timer away from Ve’ep. Ve’ep tugged back obstinately, resisting Quo’on’s force.
    Meanwhile, Zo’or had climbed up onto the stage and was standing before the large vortex.
    “Mmmmm, a portal!” Zo’or grinned devilishly and deliciously.
    “Oh, no!” groaned Boone, from his seat next to Da’an. “Zo’or’s hungry fetish for portals is kicking in!”
    “By all means, commander, stop him!” urged Da’an.
    “Sandoval, cover Da’an!” Boone leapt up onto the stage and tackled Zo’or.
    Unfortunately, Zo’or and Boone fell forward toward the portal. As they were falling, Boone grabbed on to Quo’on’s leg, pulling Quo’on down with him. Ve’ep and Quo’on were still engaged in a tug-of-war over the timer. Therefore, Ve’ep, still grasping on to the timer that Quo’on had been trying to take away from him, lost his balance as well. Boone, Ve’ep, Quo’on, and Zo’or all disappeared into the reddish-pink swirling abyss, as the portal closed up behind them.
    A loud murmur of shock and confusion wavered through the audience. After a minute of noisy chaos, the portal suddenly appeared once again, spat out Boone, Quo’on, Zo’or, and Ve’ep, and closed up. The four of them were all wearing bright, authentic kimonos.
    “Uh . . . we’ve just returned from visiting the Ming Dynasty,” Boone uneasily explained.
    Kha’rha looked more than a bit confused. Everyone else was shouting and firing off questions.
    Once all the chaos had died down, Quo’on abruptly disrobed his kimono (he was still wearing his Taelon uniform underneath) and pulled both Ve’ep and Zo’or off the stage by their ears. Kha’rha cleared his throat.
    “Now for the true entertainment of this evening . . .”
    “Attention, ladies, gentlemen, and Taelons,” a British-accented female voice piped up over the loudspeaker. “We have quite a treat for you tonight!”
    Lili, who was sitting in the front of the audience with La’an, noticed that there were now TV cameras and paparazzi positioned strategically around the auditorium.
    “Live, in concert, at the very first Taelon embassy performance! . . .” shouted the voice, “. . . I am pleased to give a huge British Isles welcome to - - the Spice Girls!”
    A roar of applause and screaming pulsated through the auditorium from the audience.
    “And now, introducing the sassy, sexy quintet. Here are, Baby Spice, Sporty Spice, Scary Spice, Posh Spice, and, the newest addition to our group of musical gals - - Taelon Spice!”
    Each of the Spice Girls sauntered out onto the stage as her name was called. The last one to waltz out was a feminine-looking Taelon who was wearing a snazzy, glittery, purple Companion bodysuit.
    The music began blaring from the speakers, as the Spice Girls began dancing and broke out into the first verse of the song “Wannabe.” Taelon Spice kept up with the beat and did all of the motions to the song as accurately and convincingly as the other four already-established Spice Girls.
    “Wow, Taelon Spice dances almost as well as Tu’um does,” claimed Lili.
    “She has a lot of rhythm,” added La’an, as she watched Taelon Spice dance.
    All the while, the crowd was cheering and screaming their heads off along with the music. They seemed to love the addition of Taelon Spice to the group. Even Kha’rha was tapping his foot along with the beat.
    When the concert was over, the fans flocked around the Spice Girls, asking for autographs and pictures.
    “Please, please, not all at once,” giggled Baby Spice.
    The media was being especially receptive to their newest darling, Taelon Spice. As they fired questions and comments away, Taelon Spice blushed and giggled shyly, as she didn’t know who to answer first.
    Finally, Da’an had made his way up to the stars.
    “Wonderful performance,” he complimented the Spice Girls.
    “Yes, good job, all of you,” La’an praised them.
    “Thank you,” Posh Spice winked at them.
    “Say,” Sandoval slyly elbowed Posh. “How about you and me go out for a romantic drive later tonight?”
    Posh put her hands on her hips. “I think not, little man!” she blurted out indignantly.
    “Please! You’re so seductive.” Sandoval reached out and touched the fabric of Posh’s outfit.
    Posh Spice slapped Sandoval squarely across his face. “I said no!”
    Boone pulled Lili aside and smiled. “What do you bet Anita LaQuicksilver will want to market Taelon Spice and exploit her newfound popularity?” he predicted.
    Lili hiccuped.
    “So Posh gave you the boot, eh Sandy?” Siobhan Beckett walked over to the implant and rubbed his face in Posh’s rejection of him.
    “Aw, I’m not too disappointed,” Sandoval said. “Scary is the one who’s really a fox!”
    Then Kha’rha spoke into the podium microphone again. “We will now give out the door prize,” he announced, “to end this evening’s ceremonies.”
    Dro’vha suddenly appeared, wheeling out a spinning drum onto the stage. He opened up the drum, and let Kha’rha pull out the chosen raffle ticket.
    “And the winner is . . .,” Kha’rha unfolded the ticket as a drumroll serenaded him, “. . . Tu’um, the Companion to India and Sri Lanka!”
    Everyone cheered as Tu’um proudly ascended the stage. Dro’vha handed her the winning raffle prize.
    “Congratulations,” said Dro’vha. “You have won a Tu’um-beany baby, courtesy of the company of Flores, Hemblen, & Parker.”
    “What a lovely doll!” exclaimed Tu’um, as she held the beany baby in her arms.

    * * *

     “I can’t wait to get back to the States,” Lili remarked, climbing into the limo, “so things can finally get back to normal.”
    “Well,” replied Boone, “if you mean ‘normal’ as in Dro’vha serving us burritos and Tu’um doing the Macarena, then yes, I’m looking forward to getting back home.” Boone’s stomach gurgled. “Speaking of burritos, I’m looking forward to Dro’vha cooking some up for me. I’m starving! One can only live on tea and scones for so long.”
    Suddenly, Boone felt a little tug on his jacket. It was Ja’an, grinning from ear to ear.
    “I had an extraordinary time, Commander Boone,” Ja’an told him, as William lifted the Taelon child up and helped him into the limo.
    Sandoval followed behind, escorting Da’an. Beckett took the driver’s seat.
    “I get to chauffeur you lads and lasses back to your shuttle,” Beckett grinned at them.
    “Oh, lord!” groaned Lili. “No more motown, please, Beckett!”
    “More motown? Sure, Marquette! Glad to oblige!” Beckett turned up the radio full blast.
    Sandoval was still outside the vehicle, reaching in as he helped Da’an fasten his seatbelt. Just then, Agent Sandoval felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and came face-to-face with Diana VanKirk.
    “Augghh!!” Sandoval yelped in shock.
    “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!” grunted Diana.
    “What are you doing here?” demanded Sandoval. “I thought you were an IRS agent?”
    “Oh, I quit that job!” Diana breathed right in Ronald Sandoval’s face. Her breath had somewhat of a peppermint scent to it. “I’m working for the CIA now!!”
    “That means . . .” a look of trepidation spread across Sandoval’s face.
    “. . . we’ll be working together a lot!” Diana finished for him. She was cackling deviously.
    Diana’s eyes began to glow yellowish-orange, as she stared straight into Sandoval’s. He flopped into the inside of the limousine, half-asleep, half-unconscious.
    “You’re too much woman for me, Diana!” Agent Sandoval breathed out in exhaustion.
    “I know!” In an instant, the ex-IRS agent had disappeared into thin air.
    “Let’s roll!” Beckett slammed on the accelerator and zoomed off.
    During the drive, their group was serenaded by a seemingly endless radio rendition of Diana Ross’s “Rescue Me.”
    Once back in the United States, Da’an offered to treat William Boone to a snack.
    “Condor deserves it,” Da’an commented, glancing sympathetically at Boone’s skrill.
    Accompanied by Agent Sandoval in the backseat, Boone drove himself and Da’an in his Volkswagon, over to Burger King.
    “One Whopper, two large fries, Italian, American, and French chicken sandwiches - - one of each . . .,” Boone turned to Sandoval. “You want anything, Sandy?”
    Sandoval turned red. “Why does everyone keep calling me ‘Sandy’?!” he shouted in rage.
    Boone drove up to the window and came face-to-face with Zo’or, begrudgingly holding out a Burger King bag to Boone. Zo’or seemed mortified - - and slightly embarrassed - - having to serve Boone, a human whom Zo’or considered his subordinate. Le’er came up behind Zo’or and handed Boone a milkshake he’d ordered, quite annoyed at her sentence. Zo’or was being punished for his stunt involving Ve’ep’s time machine. Le’er was working off her community service hours as a consequence of her attempted kidnapping of Ted’dee.
    As soon as they drove away, Tu’um and Lili came rolling around through the drive-thru in a pink camaro. Tu’um’s attaché, Agent Haji Jagdamba, was sitting in the backseat.
    “Oh, my!” Tu’um snickered when she saw Zo’or and Le’er adorned in their Burger King uniforms.
    “Would you like fries with that?” asked Le’er in a sarcastic, nasal voice.
    “Don’t patronize the customers, Le’er,” called an irritated voice. It was Sephy, the newly-appointed manager of Burger King. “Look here at Dro’vha. He’s really dedicated to his work.”
    Dro’vha was - - literally - - flipping burgers, whistling while he worked, and bagging French fries with his other hand.
    “Go to the void, you imbecile!” Le’er shot back at Sephy.
    “You gray-tressed loser!” Zo’or added.
    Pots and pans could then be heard banging and clattering around in the kitchen, along with slams, clunks, thuds, and shouts of pain from Zo’or and Le’er. Frequently, sounds of Sephy giggling deviously could also be heard.
    Fifteen minutes later, the ambulance had come and both Zo’or and Le’er were carried away on stretchers.
    Meanwhile, in a city park, Boone and Lili were eating their lunches together.
    “Well, it’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?” recollected Boone.
    “Let’s just hope that a tacky probe monster doesn’t show up now,” Lili exclaimed. “And, let’s hope that the Taelons don’t begin to look like the Keebler Elves.”

    * * *

     FIN
 
 

Copyright 1998 by Earthboy
Gene Roddenberry's Earth: Final Conflict is property of Tribune Entertainment Company and is produced by Roddenberry/Kirshner Productions. No monetary profit is being made from this work. No infringement is intended. If you sue me, I will hide something nasty in your breakfast burrito.