CHAPTER 43 - VOID

Brother Glutton, a follower of the Profit Hedon, was amazed at the number of seekers who were climbing the mountain path below the Holy Hot Springs and Spa of the Profit of Hedon. He stood staring at the procession trying to determine what was happening. It was difficult to concentrate, as it always was at the Hot Springs and Spa. The thin lovely hand of an acolyte and third class nymphet Cynthia Morenmore, kept caressing his wet thigh. A first class nymphet was twirling and dancing on the tiny island near the everlasting brook of Merlot, not far from the feasting tables and love couches of the Grotto of The Eighth Sense.

Cynthia’s eyes pleaded for more, but Brother Glutton knew an opportunity when it grabbed him. Quickly he gathered several acolyte nymphets and several bronzed studs clad in leather chaps and nothing else. Together they moved three feasting tables to the roadside and set up signs of welcome and hospitality. On one feasting table they laid out roasted squab, heaps of the illegal Pate Faux Gras, piles of fresh bread, and bowls of pickled pig’s feet. On another table they laid out tankards of ale, flagons of rose wine, and dozens of cold cans of Apple Juice for the young ones. On the third table at one end, a nymphet and a stud danced the little jig of blessed anticipation. At the other end Brother Glutton stood and called to the seekers to stop, rest, wash their feet, and visit the Temple of Hedonism.

The winds above Mount Sodom were powerful but the Dread was up to the task. Punky had her steaming directly between the two peaks at The Dread’s maximum altitude and aimed straight for the border of Clissa. There was very little daylight left. They were cruising at the unimaginable speed of 62 knots and the engines were screaming and pumping out mule power at astonishing levels. Once past the twin peaks of the mountain, they planned to remain at a high altitude until The Dread was over the Plaza of the Capital of Clissa. Then they planed to descend quickly and land in the vicinity of the large statue seen on the sky photos. When onlookers or authorities arrived they planned on asking them to take them to their leader. She was sure that the Glorious Leader and the Great Leader would see the crew of the Dread. They had dispatches from Governor Linden and from Bradford Cananticle Monforte IV, Royal, Dauphan of Second Life, Associate Professor, and famed historian, and recent former Head of the Anti-Monarchist Party. They would deliver the dispatches, yield Little Ben into the safe hands of the GL&GL and then return to the Capital

Punky slipped the skeleton key into the cast iron dispatch box and opened it slowly. She glanced at the large stained blue envelope sealed with Yellow Ceiling Wax and bearing the seal of the Monforte Dynasty. Next to it lay a similar envelope with the return address of Governor Linden. A third yellow envelope lay in the box as well. Printed on the face of the envelope was written ‘IF ALL FAILS, READ ME.’ Rather rude thought Punky who put a great premium on polite behavior and language. She decided to put the yellow envelope in her pocket. You never recognize failure until its sitting on your head thought Punky. Best to have the instructions at hand.

Daggy and Tek had cleaned up Little Ben and dressed her in a mix of Punky’s trousers and Daggy’s dress shirts. She wore Tek’s socks which Daggy had to wash over and over again in one of the boilers before she was satisfied. They were quite clean and had shrunk to fit Little’s little feet. Little was sleeping soundly in Punky’s bunk. Tek was watching her carefully.

“She’s doing a lot better now,” said Daggy coming forward and resuming her position in the mission commander’s chair. “A lot better.” She sighed as she sat and strapped herself into position. “I just can’t understand how our popular culture could be so insane and cruel, and so driven by our continual need for greater excess and increased titillation, as to submit Little Ben to these trials and torture. It’s a real indictment of modern life.”

“That’s heavy,” said Punky. “But I still like ‘SL Idols’, and the ‘Women’s Mud Wrestling and Tanning Federation’ programs.” Daggy shook her head. Punky checked the direction heading carefully. 220 degrees it read. Punky had put a bit of red tape on that spot on the direction heading meter so she would not get lost.

Daggy looked at Punky with resignation.

Punky handed Daggy the flight plan. Daggy took the map and stared at it for a moment. It was almost perfect she thought. Carefully laid out. Fuel calculations to the third decimal point. Neat dotted lines carefully laid out. The she turned it around. And again. “Punky” Daggy said “which way is north?”

Punky looked at Daggy with a stupid grin. That way she said as she pointed out the window.

“Sheesh” said Daggy. Gimme the street walker. Daggy punched a few buttons. And quickly she said, “Bring her around to 140 and reduce airspeed to 40 knots.”

“Aye, aye Mam”, said Punky. She loved it when Daggy gave orders.

Samuel Spud lay sleeping on an enormous down bed in the Peoples House of the Palace of the Glorious Leader and Grand Leader of the Peoples Republic of Clissa. He was thinking hard. Next to him lay the lithe and nimble form of Dotty. Dotty rolled over clutching a mink pillow to her chest, but exposing her belly button to Samuel. It was an outty and it drove Samuel crazy with desire.

“Ohh silly boy,” said Dotty. “Just say the word. If you do ill be so nice to you.”

Samuel was getting the point. He had been getting the point all afternoon and into the early evening. Dotty was persistent and he knew it was pointless to resist her demands any longer. Besides the refractory period was almost over so he had to make up his mind quickly before he lost it again.

“Yes I’ll do it,” Samuel said with great determination. “Yes its time for me to take my place in the icy cold of Clissa and run this place with real efficiency and cruelty.”

Dotty reached forward and dropping the mink pillow she kissed him. He reached for her, but she jumped back. “You silly boy,” she said. “Before I give you what you want, you need to give me the security question and the answer.”

Samuel could barely remember his own name at a time like this, but he paused for a moment to remember the security question. “What was your high school mascot?” he said.

Dotty smiled as she stood up and dropped all pretenses. “And the answer you naughty little boy?”

“Cyanea capillata”, Samuel said with a sigh.

Dotty laughed her naughty laugh and said “Little boy, you stay here. I’m going to the loo to get extra hot, I wont be long.” She giggled that girlish giggle that drove Samuel mad. She grabbed her little hand bag and sashayed toward the bath, the she turned and raised her bag. “I’ve got a magic toy in my bag, its going to drive you wild little boy,” said Dotty as she closed the door.

Samuel jumped up and down a few times on the bed and then lay down face up looking at the mirror covered ceiling. “I shall be the new Great Leader and Glorious Leader,” he said out loud. “And my first decree shall be to Dotty. Roll over Dotty, I command thee.”

Samuel began singing, he never sang, but this evening he burst into song.

We’ve tried it once or twice
And found it rather nice
Roll me over lay me down and to it again

Roll me over in the clover,
Roll me over lay me down and do it again

Oh this is number one
And the fun has just begun…

Samuel was very right. The fun was about to begin throughout all of Clissa.

The Goddess of Snow was disturbed from her sleep by the roar of engines on Mount Sodom. Her son, Demi-god K2 whispered to her mother, “I don’t know what it is mother, but it’s very very loud.”

“All I want is a good century’s sleep,” said the Goddess of Snow. “Just a short nap of a few hundred years.” She was annoyed and on the edge of anger. She said an oath, a prayer actually, or an order perhaps to the sky gods, who knows. The result was the same. The Goddess of Snow rolled over in her bed of soft clouds and went back to sleep.

It began to snow all over the mountain. Heavy snow.

Night had fallen and Punky was holding a direct course toward Clissa. She knew it was correct because Daggy kept correcting her. The wind had picked up and what she could see of the clouds said rain or, for a dirigible the worst thing possible – snow and ice. She was getting hungry but she had passed up the chance to make a sandwich snack.

Keeping The Dread aloft and completing their mission was taking total concentration. Daggy was carefully studying the flight plan and continually referring to the street walker. There was no chance to shoot the stars in the cloud infested skies. They had lost sight of the ground as soon as they passed the twin peaks of Mount Sodom. The airship was socked in by clouds and fog. Daggy had had Punky drop altitude to about 300 meters above the ground but they could see nothing. Fearing a collision Daggy had Punky bring her back to 2000 meters. A flash of light appeared on the left followed by a roll of thunder 30 seconds later.

“We’re there,” said Daggy to herself.

“What,” yelled Punky.

“We’re here, the Plaza should be directly below us.”

Punky reached for the speed control and slowed the ship down and let her settle into neutral headway against the wind. Punky stood and gripped the UP&DOWN wheel. Slowly the Dread descended. At 500 meters Daggy started calling out the altitude.

“500 meters,” Daggy said loudly.

Punky turned the wheel more.

“400 meters,”

Punky held her hand steady.

“300 meters,” said Daggy

“200 meters, ease her back a little Punky.”

“Aye aye Mam,” responded Punky sharply.

“150 meters.

“100 meters”

“50 meters, level off” yelled Daggy.

Punky moved the wheel just a tad and the ship moved into neutral buoyancy.

They could see nothing. It was completely grey. The fog and rain obscured everything.

“Kees,” yelled Daggy. “Time for a Mark Twain.”

Kees came sliding down the ladder, already suited up for a night excursion. He smiled as he attached his carabineers and figure eight to the rope hanging from the retraction wheel. Daggy pulled open the lower hatch, and wind and fog came spilling into the comfortable warm gondola. Daggy played out 70 meters of rope, more than enough for Kees to reach the ground.

Kees saluted and was gone.

Daggy held the retraction lever in one hand and the other held the taut rope feeling for rope signals denoting Kees progress.

Time passed. Too much time thought Punky.

“Daggy,” Punky said, “its taking too long, something is wrong.”

Daggy was starting to be concerned herself. Then she felt two tugs on the rope. Daggy pushed the retraction lever hard and the reel began to spin. So fast that the rope began to steam. As Kees shot into the gondola Daggy threw the lever into the locked position and the dogs took hold. The reel screamed and then a sharp thud was heard as the dog latches fell into place.

Kees was soaking wet. He pulled his baklava from his face, and shook his wet hair. He looked at Daggy and then at Punky in amazement.

“Its gone,” Kees yelled. “Gone”

Daggy yelled “What do you mean gone. It can’t be gone. A city can’t just disappear.”

Kees took a deep breath, “I tell you its gone… not just the plaza or the city. The entire sim is gone. Its just not there.”

Daggy looked at Punky. Punky looked at Daggy. Tek and Kees looked at both of them. Little Ben slept.

“*&^$%” said Tek “Clissa’s account must have been cancelled.”
Punky reached for the yellow letter that said ‘IF ALL FAILS, READ ME.’