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Chapter 1



Life harbors suffering and struggle with harrowing impunity. It has neither remorse nor reticence in its self-serving existence, and its only aim is survival. Yet, somehow my life strands have been woven together to form a greater design over mere self-preservation. I was born for this, I thought, as I jet-streamed across the killing horizon. The great vortex of whitewash beneath my conversion board was the unitary pulse fed on by my heart, but felt by my feet as they gripped the board with over 9 G's of pressure. I am lightning. Electrostatic discharge races over every square inch of my body-glove as I surge forward and down into the abyss like a bat out of hell.
Vortex I-C-niner is buried deep in the hadopelagic, nearly 7000 meters below sea level. I will be the first human-like being to enter its roaring mouth. While other more well-known sea vortexes have been traversed into deep space, this mighty vortex has only recently been discovered on deionized depth-charge radar two months earlier. This journey that will last for merely a few seconds has seen years in preparation time and 32 billion dollars in accrued expenses. Yet, I was not one to worry about dollars and cents. Now was the time to maximize on living!
My third arm aches as I grip the throttle with swollen white knuckles. The Redline conversion board I ride on is state-of-the-art Xentaz technology. The best in its class. Telemetric diridium paneling and laser driven fission combustion propels this awesome craft. No plutonium needed in this baby. I was fortunate enough to have out-ceded my main competitor for this venture, and it was I who was chosen to explore sector Q-17z of the NGC - 4414 galaxy located in the Coma Berenices constellation. Sure, this region of 'space' is located approximately 20 million parsecs in distance from Earth, but that is but a heartbeat if one travels via worm-hole navigation as I am doing today.
At the moment of the quantum flop (the point at which matter transfers from deep sea into distant space), my eyeballs and other gelatinous organs compress to diamond density. No sooner does my backwashed scream exit then reenter my mouth as I flop, do my organs return to standard earth-field density. I soon am drawing in deep breaths of the xenon/argon mixture coming from my tanks holstered to my neck.
"Made it!" I disseminate to the heavens with pleasure as I observe my surroundings. I am bathed in a racemic mixture of light and dark matter and the trinary star system of Athos, Deutron, and Pithyia shine with a brilliant radiance before me. Not too far away, a quasar pulses arhythmically, yet my external vestibula filter the radiation it emits and converts the energy into the most beautiful of aural music. It is believed that leviathan arrograuts reside here feeding off the bountiful dark matter decomposing into neutral gravity. Perhaps I would encounter a few of these truly unique and obscure isms. While arrograuts have no organs, they manifest a lifeforce analogous to the baleen whales of ancient Earth. They are truly magnificent creatures rarely found closer than a million parasecs from the inner rim of the Orion Arm of the Milky Way galaxy. Their observance, however, would not be the main purpose of this trip.
In deep space, light refracts shallow. It is this arc-inverted energy that allows teleportation through time. I aim to harness this force with my flux algorithm redactor device. While I don't intend to become mared by fame, I know that this utilization of space will make me known, the galaxy-over. Nevertheless, I dark-slide forward one parasec at a time until I reach a wide pocket of interstellar medium with the correct amalgam necessary for time teleportation.
Although I am quite excited by this adventure, I quickly realize my stark loneliness. Acid etches its way out of my poriforous cornea onto my weathered cheeks. "I wish Ladia were here" I call out in the same pitch as the quasar pulses. Ladia Rexgouz Bechral Orkrali Efron Kalifa was my 19th wife before I consumed her, like all the others, on one stormy Hexotember evening. She was not as tasty as Helicha Egreti etc. yet she was up there in succulence. "If only I had waited till after this mission to devour her with oreo cookies and halflaff tofu spread.Then I'd be with a companion here." My shoulders shrug signaling sweet misery yet my second sub-brain communicates with my corrugated cerebellum that it is time to focus on the task at hand: utilize the dark matter depression for picoflop compression and resultant teleportation expression. I do so with great care not to overload my internal flux manifold then think about where and when I want to be.
Blinding gamma-rays enter area V6 of my occipital cortex and I am left chrome-hazed for an instant. Then I come-to smack in front of a real human -- a really tall female, who immediately smacks me over my cubic head with some sort of a club. I am out for the count and my consciousness becomes consumed by a supermassive black hole.


Chapter 2




My primary brain feels like a hypernova as I sit up suddenly into a vast rusted plateau. The particulate sky is a burning green with silver flecks tessellating like a lattice of white-dwarf stars ejecting their hot plasma. The air is drier than the Atacama desert and my tongue feels like sandpaper. I rotate my cubic head toward my captor who happens to be a beautiful giant of a woman. At approximately six feet, the head of this enchantress looms a good three feet above mine if I were to stand. I notice that my air tank and bodyglove have been surgically removed from my body leaving me as naked as a Brazilian water gnute. My third arm flops listlessly in the blusterous wind. This was not what I had envisioned as I wielded dark matter into my flux redactor. Yet I am here so I have to deal with it.
"Who are you?" asks the gorgeous creature before me.
"I go by the name of Hethro Xath Hyugg-gho Anzkrak Acon Syetz etc. I'm from Earth. Where am I?"
"You are here. Good 'ol Cyrus: 9th ellipsoid from the Swath." she curtly replies. "What is Earth?" the lady asks with more than curiosity in her fiery violet eyes. She has a highly angular body with prominent peaks located in the front and rear of her smooth cream-colored thorax. Strange, very fine blue strands emanates from her scalp, and she has a nose, mouth and only two ears. She seems to be missing a few. I wonder what happened to them? Her legs and arms (two only) are wrapped in some silk-like skin with fine follicles scattered here and there. Beautiful, but quite different from my carbonized scales.
"Earth!" I exclaim. "The 19th most exotic planet in the Milky Way Galaxy. I'm assuming by Swath, you are referring to your sun"
"Sun: Swath. Maybe!" She nods. "You don't look quite human, little man. Are you?"
"I would have been called that 2,500 years ago. But we've evolved, I suppose" I reply with a smile. "You must be related to my race as you look as the ancient articles describe 'human'. But I've never heard of Cyrus. What galaxy are we in?"
"Galaxy? What's that? What the dellzone are you talking about?!"
"Nevermind. Can I have my suit and my air tank back please? I'm dehydrating in this arid climate."
"You mean these?" she says pointing at my apparel."Sure. I just wanted to see what you looked like underneath." She blushes and a warm glow illuminates her cheeks.
With lightning speed I dawn the items and resume the breathing of exotic gases from my tank. I instantly feel better. "Do you have a name?" I ask politely.
"What is name?" she seems confused.
"What do you call yourself!" I spit out in exasperation.
"I don't call myself anything! I am! But you can call me Jane Doe." On hearing that name. I let out a hideous scream and I fall to my knees.
"What a horrendous name!" I yell out to her. "That's the name of our most evil demigod who lives in the fire pits of hell! Just that very spoken name sends daggers into my gelatinous heart!"
"Sorry! Ok, call me 'Bob' " she replies.
I scream again, this time falling flat on my face. My three ears ache in blistery pain. "No! That's the name of our second most evil demigod!"
Her beautiful violet eyes role into the back of her head and she says "Call me whatever you want then!"
I sit back up with a burp, look her straight in the eyes, and smile."I will call you Princess Petunia."
"Fine."
"Now Petunia, I need to find an ocean. Do you know what that is?" I ask her with fear in my eyes.
"Yes, of course. We have 11 of them on Cyrus. Why do you want an ocean?"
Not having anymore dark matter in my manifold, I know that finding a suitable vortex is my only way of returning to the substation of deep space for another try at time travel or to return home via supermassive black hole. "You wouldn't be able to understand even if I could explain it to you, Princess Petunia, but if you take me to the ocean I will drag you with me. How 'bout it?"
She beams with happiness. "I love traveling! Let's go!"
So the two of us head out by foot towards the nearest ocean known as Helicon-Six with only the weight of the universe on my shoulders. No big deal.

Chapter 3




The two ungainly strangers make their way across the rusted plateau with lightly-placed footsteps. Both are mindful of how the other walks. While Princess Petunia has a long yet delicate gait, Hethro's is more like a romp through twice-baked mashed-potatoes. Clumsy as walking is for him, he realizes the futility in using his conversion board for the two of them, so he hoists it on his back. Oddly enough, the lady has yet to ask about it.
The windswept soil is barren and unfriendly looking. There is no vegetation to be seen aside from some chameleon-lichen growing sporadically here and there. Petunia carefully collects these as they travel forward and places them in a chartreuse tunic made of felt.

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