Tell Us A Grotesquie

                                            Tell Us A Grotesquie

   “Oh, injector, not yet!” Pleaded Moroga. “tell us a story before you turn down the illuminators.”

    “Yes Injector,” Orlok chimed in from his pallet. “In fact, tell us a Grotesquie. You know how much I enjoy those tales."

    Jywar paused at the illuminator panel. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let the product become stimulated by too many Grotesquies, but perhaps a short one wouldn't hurt.

    “I don’t know about a Grotesquie,” said Moroga, using her usual keen sense. “They keep me from repose.”

    “Then perhaps I better not tell one,” Jaywar said.“I wouldn’t want to find you awake when Sol holds the heavens.”

    Moroga looked at her co-product. She didn't want to disappoint him if a grotesque was so important. I shall do my best to focus on my neutral state,” Moroga promised. “And since it pleases my co-product, I give you full permission to proceed."

    “I will try to modify the descriptive stimulation,” Jywar promised her. "But you may tell me if you want me to stop."

     Moroga shimmered with thanks. “And you can hook up my slumbr phylar afterward with my permission.”

  Jywar let his extender slip from the illuminator switch. Orlok, sensing victory, vibrated above his pallet while Jywar settled himself between the products and spoke slowly so he could think ahead. “They were a strange and terrible form of life,” he began. “Organs encased beneath a soft exterior of tissue, protected by hard calcium-based structures within-- which, being brittle, were apt to break.” He paused for the sake of drama and vapored thoughtfully on his glowing dinoclastic. “Two of these creatures were named Jim and Jane. Jim was the injector. Jane the carrier. Their product were Bob and Gail.”

    “Funny names,” said Moroga.

   “Unlike us they had a large oriface which they used to take in sustenance and liquids. And a long fleshy extension above the orifice contained two smaller holes which allowed them olfactory access while a pair of wet, jelly-like orbs still higher up were ports for viewing.”

    “Ugly!” said Orlok.

    “And they moved about on two pillars of flesh, putting one in front of the other. Over great distances they moved with the aid of machines, sometimes across the face of their planet if they chose.”

    “Why their planet? Why not transport elsewhere as we can?” Orlok asked.

 Jywar nodded. The product were gaining wisdom and he knew he would have to fall back on his standard explanation when creating Grotesquies and hope they didn’t press him: “Because unlike us they were exceedingly stupid creatures,” he said. “They lacked the ability to do what we do.”

    “Did their corporal selves have fibers?” Moroga asked.

    “Yes. Some short. Some long. And even more their soft exteriors also came in many colors,” said Jywar. “But regardless of color, all of them took the tone of unhealthy zeegarolz.” 

    “Eeewww!” Orlok and Moroga said together.

    “The injector and carrier decided to have a third product after a time,” Jywar continued, “But unlike our methods, this was an extensive undertaking. And hard as it is for us to understand, these creatures did not consult the existent products. Instead, they waited until the products trans-slumbrd. Then they started the reproduction process in their own quarters. The new product was then nurtured within the carrier for many planetary rotations and ultimately emerged whole.”

    “No consulting with the current products?” Orlok’s cranius elongated, a sign of his incredulity. “And such a waste of time in gestation. Very primitive.”

 Jywar vapored the dynoclast one more time, then muted it. “With three products they were forced to occupy a larger dwelling. Here they cultivated nutrients which they consumed through the large hole I’ve spoken of.”

 “How were these nutrients produced?” Moroga asked.

    “In a filth they called soy-al” Jywar answered.

   “This is so…” Moroga hesitated, her features beginning to taking on the telling pink glow of internal unease. “How could anyone do such a disgusting thing?”

    “Surely they must have known of cosponic resorption,” said Orlok.

    Jywar’s responded with a negative vibration. “They did not. Many of the cultivated items were eaten directly they were plucked from the Soy-al. Then, with their receptacle organs at full capacity, they would relieve themselves with a huge zeegarolz.”

    “Aaaieggh!” both product cried together.

     Jywar looked at Moroga and decided this was as far as he dare take the story. The consequences of building more at this point would not set well with the carrier who was waiting for him to exit the quarters of their primary habitation cube. “I will finish before the next cycle,” he said as his extender dimmed the illuminators. “Now, repose.” 

    Jywar glided to the space where his carrier, Kaza, sat twining a pretty mass of fibers and listening to the accusto-notes emanating from the porous wall. 

    “What kept you so long?”

    “They insisted I tell them a story.”

    Kaza’s optical port narrowed and she stopped twining. “Not a Grotesquie I hope?” Jywar’s silence answered the question. “I warn you, the next instance we have with Moroga’s inability to repose it will be you who must go and calm her. Did you set her slumbr phylar at least?”

    “I forgot,” Jywar replied meekly as he reignited his dynoclast and moved across from his carrier to the hover chair, a favorite spot. “I think all will be well regardless.”

    Kaza’s cranius folded disapprovingly.“I don’t like it when you ignite that thing in the habitation”.

    “I will try to calibrate a cessation program,” promised Jywar.

                                                               …

    After their injector left, Moroga initiated low level self- translucence, enough for her to move safely onto Orlok’s pallet and share it with him without being sensed by their creators through the portal.

    “I do not believe I will reach repose,” Moroga said. “My neutral state has failed.”

    “ It was only a story,” replied Orlok. “And besides, you wanted a story.”

    “But you wanted a Grotesquie,” countered Moroga. “I would have been satisfied with something else. Those creatures described by injector frighten me so. Do you think they really exist somewhere?”

    “No. It is just a story. Now I need repose,” said Orlok.

    Both products then did reach the state as the night spun beyond the edge of the red horizon and past all three moons. But Moroga’s repose was disturbed until Sol filled the heavens by images of the strange creatures described by their injector, troubled by shadows which moved on twin fleshy pillars toward her slowly, very slowly, out of a distant gloom.

1,000+ words.