The Temple in the Sky, Fernando Herrera Jr [the rosie project .txt] 📗

That would defeat the purpose of keeping him in tha first place. You’s gonna keep him locked up in that little cottage of yours Chappy boy?”
“He’s not my child. Therefore I need not such breeding license. They can’t demand a license for a boy who isn’t mine. You know damn well that those licenses were only created to stop us from reproducing in the first place. They want us obliterated. It is their most humane tactic they could conjure. That boy is not a Pipp—they won’t want him gone, or dead for that matter.”
“Oh ma dear naive little Chappy, after everythin them demons took away from our people, and yo personally, yet yo still remain optimistic. I mus say, I admire yo sanguinity, ol Chaps.” Harggot said while shaking his head.
“Times have changed, brother. In the last fifty years, during the revolution and after the war, the word has become more aware of the injustice from Aledren, and it’s only a matter of time before they render to our cause. Once the news of this here boy spreads around the world, we will be in focus of the international broadcasting medium. That boy will then be untouchable to the Aledren. The world is more humane than you think, my dear brother. The world will protect him from the claws of Aledren. Their ways have blinded you from the genuine likes of the rest of the world.”
“The world? The world is a cruel place, Chapwook, yo know it is. Have yo already furrgotten yo fama— ”
“All right now, you two—no need to fuss about that right now. And where are the wives? Mr. Goone? Mr. Harggot?” the doctor interrupted before things could get out of hand. She knew the brothers well. They were known to get rowdy between touchy quarrels.
“Why, they are at home, probably watching the operas, as usual,” E’goone answered.
“Yep, they should be cookin instead. Those good for nothin felines, I’m probably gonna have to go out for dinner tonighta. Like every other nighta,” Harggot added.
Now don’t be rude Mr. Harggot. I know Guadaloopin to be a great cook. She is more likely to be mending to the chores at this moment,” the doctor said. “My question was: Why didn’t they accompany you here?”
“Oh, Miss Arietta, they do not know of this matter. We do not need them worried. They get all hormonal when they worry,” E’goone answered.
“Heck’s yeah! That darn Guadaloopin gets craza when she’s anxious. Lass time our puppa went out missin, she ran out the house into the street yellin like a mad woman. Chalupin! Chalupin! That’s the name of our puppa. For three days she became a sobbin, good fur nuthin feline. The blasted puppa came back, but I never wanna go through that again. I don’t even wanna to imagine what this would do to her,” Harggot said.
“Well, I see now. I should’ve known,” the doctor said in giggles. “Allow me to bring Adonia out here. Wait just one second.” She went back in to the corridor and into the room where Adonia lay. She was brought out to the waiting room by the doctor in a wheelchair. The pretty girl had a fantastic smile. She spoke with a cute, timid, and girly voice, “Hello uncle Goone, hello uncle Hargg—daddy.”
They smiled back in harmony and knelt down to give her a hug. Harggot pulled out a tattered bouquet of red flowers from his pocket and handed them to her with his arm all the way stretched, “Here you are sweetie pie, I picked these from ol Loopin’s garden. I hope yo like em.”
She grabbed them and took a snivel. “They’re beautiful, and they smell wonderfully—thank you uncle Hargg.”
E’goone was not the type to be outmatched; therefore, he pulled out a small, silver wrist-watch and handed it to her—arm all the way stretched. “I’ve been working on it for a long time now. It was to be your birthday present, but I suppose the occasion could not be more appropriate. Besides, your birthday is only a month away. Do you like it?”
“Oh… wow, it’s fantastic! Thank you so much uncle Goone,” she told him as she tightened it on her left wrist.
E’goone turned to Harggot with a smirk of mischief and winked in taunt as Harggot furiously buttoned up his coat. Not to be outdone, Harggot began to check his pockets, in search of something of worth to give to the girl, but a poor blacksmith would not likely carry more than a few coins, a dirty cotton handkerchief, and a rusty cigar-torch. He was unsuccessful and simply sighed deeply in defeat. He glared at E’goone and clinched his sharp nose as his beady eyes and curly mustache rapidly twitched in fury.
“Well Miss Arietta, as we stand here, forever grateful of the magnificent medical assistance, and blessed with your heavenly charms, I must present to you my further adieu, for I should in fact return to my coppersmith duties. I am a busy man indeed and the old lady awaits,” He kowtowed by her feet, slipped off her rubber glove, and gave her pale dainty-hand it a smooch that tickled her.
She giggled, “Mr. Goone, you need to trim that prickly mustache of yours.”
Harggot followed and exaggeratedly mimicked his older brother’s gentlemanly feat—quite poorly.
“I too should liberate ma company from yo glorious and angelic presence…. Miss Arietta…” He bent down a little too far and caught the doctor’s gown with his head. He took a good look at what lay beneath—involuntarily of course, and stood up to kiss her hand but failed, tripping on his untied boot-strings and taking the doctor down with him. She shrieked and fell on top of him as the poor man embarrassedly squealed. He stood erect in discombobulation and said, “I’m sorry Miss Arietta! I furgot to tie meh boots!”
She stood up patting her gown to release the dust, “It’s quite all right Mr. Hargg. You worry not now, dear,” she said while laughing. They all laughed.
E’goone placed his arm around Harggot and let him out of the infirmary. “You old buffoon,” he said to him chuckling.
For thousands of years, the Pipps were infamously branded for their eccentric religion and presumed witchcraft. It was forbidden and more officially against the laws of Aledren for anyone to marry a Pipp yet alone breed with them. In fact, they were not even permitted to breed amongst themselves, at least not without a “breeding license.” However, the price for only one of those licenses was too high for even the wealthiest of Pipps to obtain more than one of. Therefore, very often, the lower class Pipps would spend their entire life savings on one license. Consequently, their population began to severely diminish, even after the segregation war which obliterated more than fifty percent of their people. By that year, they barely reached the mark of ten thousand and were segregated by the Aledren to their origins: the ancient lands of Pippolas. Therefore, many Pipps lived and died without utilizing their god-given right to reproduce. The town was located off the northern coast of Aledren: the supreme capitalist nation and exceedingly developed industrial capital of Polis. Pippolas was mercilessly ruled by the authoritarian, so called, egalitarian regime of Aledren; however, the inhabitants of Pippolas secretly considered themselves Socialists.
For an entire year Apaec learned their foreign ways. He cried for many nights, and just as Etticus’goone had alleged, the boy was heartbroken as he endured months of immense suffering. He cried so much his eyes were always irate and his cheeks were always scarlet. For months after gloomy months he was ever so sad from the terrible notion of melancholy. It took him roughly one year to become fluent in the Aledious tongue. He adopted Chapwook as a father and befriended Adonia. The Trouffles became his new family and the residents of Pippolas would come to know him as Apaec Trouffle. The “Lumen Pond School of Zenith” would come to know him as “the alien student.”

On this so called Polis, Pippolas was alive—not well, but alive. It was a small waterfront town built upon a land mottled with small and vast lagoons of swampy warm-waters: a buccaneer’s dream land: a labyrinth of tunnels, channels and waterways complete with pirates, merchant traders, sailors, coppersmiths, blacksmiths, fortune tellers, etc. The Pipps, as they were known by the outsiders, were tall, lanky, olive of skin and of scarlet fur. They were categorized by the rest of the world into a sub-human race, simply for their unique appearance and peculiar beliefs. They spoke, or used to speak a secret language. A secret language that legend whispered to have magical powers: the original language spoken by the gods. The race was believed to be the primal of Polis: the original race. For that, they held great pride. I might have said ethnicity, but ethnicity pertains more to that quality or affiliation of cultural ties, rather than genetics. They were a race because they were genetically in a different stock. It is well opined that to compare is not a good thing, but who cares. For the sake of comparison: On Earth, race could be defined in two terminologies: 1. the human race, which is all of the human inhabitants of earth; and 2. people who are believed to belong to the same genetic stock. Allow me to toss here some genetic stocks:
Amerindian: Any member of the peoples living in North or South America before the Europeans arrived
Caucasoid: A person with pale skin whose ancestors spoke Caucasian languages
Mongoloid: Of or pertaining to or characteristic of one of the traditional racial division of humankind including especially peoples of central and eastern Asia
Negroid: A person with dark skin who comes from Africa (or whose ancestors came from Africa)
Indian: Sometimes included in the Caucasian race; native to the subcontinent of India
Slavic: A race of people speaking a Slavonic language
Yellow: An Asian race
--All of which (goes without saying), pertain to the human race, or better yet, human beings of earth. One might naturally assume that on a planet that is seven to eight times the mass of earth, the Hominidae races might multiply sequentially. However, considering the available terra firma on Polis, which is only five percent, the surviving races (that I will toss here in just a bit, and define) happen to be, by sheer coincidence, seven:
Aldeiretan: A Herrenvolk person with light azure skin and white to gold fur who comes from Aledren (or whose ancestors came from Aledren)
Pippolianic: A person with pale olive skin and scarlet fur who comes from Pippolas (or whose ancestors came from Pippolas)
Proconsuloid: A behemoth troglodyte with olive skin and scarlet fur who is thought to be extinct
Natatoroid: A person with insipid, gray skin with no fur who may or may not dwell in the ocean
Amphibiad: A person with pale, yellow skin with no fur and humanlike ears who lives on land but breeds under water
Scorceroid: An endangered giant with dark skin who carries electricity through the blood-stream
Gnominoid: A dwarf person that is fully coated in thick azure fur
--All of whom belong to the homo genus spectrum. Later that morning, Apaec was officially introduced as a new student in a traditional ceremony that took place every monday morning in one of the school’s courtyard. He made it through the first day without mentionable incidents. In his first year at the school, Apaec became somewhat of a celebrity because of his “unknown,” foreign status.

11
An Unlikely Bond of Companionship

Only some weeks after his arrival, in low spirits, Apaec laid on a