*BAD BISCUITS AND TERRIBLE TEA*
For a moment, the entire group was shocked into a quiet submission, each contemplating Enot's revelations, each wondering who should reprogram the Al203 Telescope.
No one really wanted to shrink, but they all knew someone had to volunteer for the job. Many Klesians could have already perished as a result of becoming tiny people. Also, the Klesian government couldn't survive at a standstill for too much longer, less some radical alien group try to swoop in and take over the CIC.
Like a sudden burst of air, the stunned silence turned into a seething mob. Insults flew. Accusations were hurled. Nobody wanted to be chosen for the job. Every being on the ship bickered nonstop, with the exception of the Fester Tails, who were involved in some unknown task.
Finally, the tiny yet undeniable Muriel Minor, sounded a cringingly earsplitting alarm. The sound was so awful that everyone was stunned back into silence. The motley group of companions stopped in midsentence to cover their ears.
As soon as the group had recovered enough of their hearing, Muriel pulled out a microphone- looking device with bright pink feathers sprouting out of one end.
"Tea time!" Muriel announced into the gaily feathered stick.
As the last of the appalling alarm echoed in their ears, everyone complained.
"Gleestix, that was loud," someone moaned. "That's the worst sound I've ever heard," said another. "My ear drums are bleeding," agreed the next one.
Leon spoke up and proudly announced that he had created that particular alarm so that the Fester Tails might be able to better announce things. He also created the microphonic device so the small-voiced Fester Tails might be heard over regular sized voices. It was a smart invention, but the sound embedded itself into Leon's soft walls, echoing for way too long.
The Fester Tails hadn't used Leon's invention before, because they'd had no reason to. But Fester Tails disliked disorder. They didn't enjoy the group falling into disarray and decided it was time to take advantage of the sound amplifier.
Following Muriel's loudly announced orders, Eliza helped Yarn prepare tea, coffee and some odd, smelly, syrupy concoction. Eliza passed out the various drinks and placed a platter of biscuits on a table that had formed out of the floor.
"Thank you Leon," said Eliza. She circled the room, choosing the seat farthest away from Izzian.
Everyone grew silent as they sniffed their drinks and took precarious sips. Yarn's china was mismatched and unbalanced. No single cup balanced correctly on any plate. The liquids sloshed over the edges, making it difficult to drink. It was an awkward tea time.
Eliza had handed an overflowing cup to Thilillian. She accepted the presented beverage with politeness, but struggled to hold the thing. Thil's cup was completely crooked on the bottom and sat at a sideways angle on a plate with four holes.
Izzian's lopsided cup dribbled hot brew down the front of his shirt each time he ventured to take a sip. He finally gave up all together and reached for a biscuit.
The Fester Tails were given tiny refreshments prepared by their own chef. Izzian was jealous of the smaller people's delightful array of sugary treats. He stared longingly as Muriel Minor sipped a steaming liquid that smelled exactly like hot chocolate with marshmallow butter.
For a moment, Izzian thought he might enjoy being small like the Fester Tails. He could fit into any space, or sneak out of his house when he chose. He could sleep during class and probably cuss nonstop, being too small to see or hear.
He quickly changed his mind, however. Izzian was living with a Firithian, after all. He knew how tiresome it became to constantly gaze upwards for fear of being stepped upon and squashed.
Izzian took one bite of a tea biscuit and quietly spit it into his cup while pretending to take another drink. Others around the table caught on to Izzian's trick. Soon, everyone except Laddie was furtively spitting wads of stale, half chewed tea biscuits into their cups.
"I remember this fine china," said Laddie, as he happily drank the foul brew and munched away on the musty old biscuits. "My sweet Natasha has remained as beautiful as the china and as beautiful as the day I met her," he said, his thick Russian sounding accent adding to the romantic statement. Izzian wondered if a Russian accent would help him with Eliza. Not likely, he thought.
"Oh Vladdie, you old dog. You can thank Mr. Hulla Baloo for erasing many of my wrinkles. You should've seen me before his miraculous night time face lifts," Yarn said, playfully slapping Laddie on the knee.
"I've had this china for over a hundred years," she announced with pride. "I purchased it from a man in the Lagrinia System for twenty Splicots. Gosh, today this china must be worth a fortune."
Eyebrows were raised in puzzlement. Questions sat on the tip of several tongues as Yarn gushed on about her fine china that seemed to have seen better days.
Gala's own tea cup had a two inch shard poking out from the handle and she kept scratching her hand each time she took a sip. Enot's saucer had even drawn blood at one point, when he impulsively brushed away a wayward biscuit crumb.
The group continued to pretend they were ingesting the foul liquids and nibbling on the disgusting biscuits, but everyone except Yarn and Laddie looked longingly at the feast laid out before the Fester Tails. They were a clever bunch, those Fester Tails, for bringing their own chef.
In spite of the comical tea cups and mismatched saucers, the atmosphere in Leon's cabin was wrought with tension. The reality of the Klesian situation hung in the air. Each person wanted to fix the problem, but no one wanted to shrink.
Thilillian had moved closer to Enot and Hulla, ready to lend a mathematical hand when needed. Hulla was jotting notes, making marks and discussing the finer points of Enot's observations.
To Izzian, Thil looked more alive and happier than she had moments ago; closer to the girl he'd known back home. Except now, Thil bore an air of humility absent in her previous self. It softened the girl and made her more approachable.
Eliza seethed as she noticed Izzian grinning, watching his Klesian girlfriend working with Enot and the little Mr. Baloo. Izzian had sworn that Thil was not his girlfriend, but Eliza didn't believe him. He saw Eliza giving him the stink eye, yet again and she had obviously misunderstood the reason for his grinning. He wished Eliza would just get over it already.
The earth girl was still quite furious with Izzian, and both were noticeably sweating from holding back unsaid accusations and suppressed emotions. Neither would apologize first and each thought it was the other's place to do so.
Izzian was sorry for lying to Eliza for months, but he'd had no choice. Plus, he was going to confess everything anyways; he was just beaten to the punch. Eliza was sorry and did feel bad for acting so snarky to both Izzian and Thilillian, but her anger had gotten the best of her.
She was angry at being lied to and angry about Thil always kissing on Izzian. She hated the way Izzian seemed to excuse every mistake the girl had made, and how Paksha just stared at Thil with his mouth hanging open like a Glotfish.
Eliza chided herself for thinking like Izzian and throwing out some strange alien word like Glotfish. She assumed that a Glotfish was some stupid fish from Klesia. Most of all, Eliza grudgingly admitted to herself, she was angry for being jealous of Thilillian. Eliza was just a girl from earth. How could she possibly compare to an especially gorgeous alien girl with oodles of confidence and brains?
Suddenly Eliza's self-criticism shamed her. When the evil twin Link had referred to Eliza as "just a girl," she'd gotten so angry, she was able to escape Lucas's grip. She promised herself to work on her confidence. After all, a girl from earth could conquer the world if she so chose, or even the universe.
Vladimir broke the silence. His booming voice caused the others to jump, rattling their mismatched saucers and tea cups together.
"Is time for discussion," he said with his accent adding a note of command. "We must pick one person to travel by shuttle to little Klesia and reprogram big tele
scope."
Even through Vladimir's thick accent and chopped language, the others understood his proclamation. It was a dangerous job. The person responsible for reprogramming the Al203 Telescope would be placed directly in harm's way. No one knew exactly what would happen when the two telescopes were realigned lens to lens, but according to Enot, the scenario was a grim one.
Enot had theorized that the person manning the telescope would shrink while the rest of the entire Klesian population would return to their rightful size. Still furiously scribbling away on his calculations, while attempting to balance his square tea cup onto a domed shaped saucer, Enot made an announcement.
"No matter how I rework my formula, it always ends up the same. Whichever one of us enters my calculations into the Al203 will end up shrinking. Thilillian, Mr. Baloo and I agree on this. They have both been a great help, as has Leon for verifying my math," Enot paused.
"But we do agree that while the shrunken Klesians should return to normal size, one of us will end up shrinking in the process. There's really no way around it."
"What about transforming? What if we used Yarn's Trans-Form-It V.2 and made one of us twice as large, then once the telescopes realigned, that person would shrink back to normal size?" Gala asked.
Enot shook his head and frowned. "I'm afraid you can't completely trick biology, Gala. Thilillian, why don't you explain why shape shifting or transforming would not work? That was your department after all."
Thilillian nervously cleared her throat and spoke. "Enot's right. You see, math doesn't lie and the numbers don't add up. When a person transforms his or her shape, it's really more of an illusion. Like Izzian turning human. While he may appear to be an earthling, deep down in his cells, he's still a Klesian. His blood is green."
Gala nodded her head, agreeing with Thilillian. "That makes sense. The person that performs this deed must be in his or her true form. There are too many variables…too many things that could go wrong if that person shape shifts beforehand."
It was terribly quiet in the cabin as each person examined his or her own courage and questioned who should go to Klesia to reprogram the Al203. No one volunteered and a doomed pallor hung over the group.
Suddenly, everyone started speaking all at once, as was becoming the habit of the group; pure stunned silence suddenly exploding in fits of angst and ideas.
"I cannot possibly go," one person said. "I'm not good with an airboard and I'll probably just mess it up," another was heard saying. "If only we had a robot…"
The arguments escalated until no one person could actually be heard. Accusations were thrown, disagreements abounded, but the group was getting no closer to an answer.
"I'll do it." A small voice emanated over noisy contradictions and the rattle of tea cups clattering in uneven saucers.
The room became hushed. The taller beings looked down, wondering who the hero could be. Using Leon's microphonic invention, a tiny voice had broken through all of the fighting and yelling. The others looked away in disgrace for not volunteering before the smallest person on the ship.
It was a Fester Tail that spoke up first. It was a Fester Tail that volunteered to put himself in harm's way for the good of Klesia. A tiny, trifling, seemingly irrelevant Fester Tail put every other being to shame.
***