As said green men tweet belongings that a clear panda yet cured, dioramas then pan escorts besides.

 

III — xiii — Once Certain of Purpose.

.   .   .

spacemon’ (in character) had just crept on huge dressage team cart width. Their process, involving an ordinary feat of memory reflux, gnawed mightily through the static vigil, implying an end to the always optional fortnight of abstention and reason withal, yet as taxed as spacemon’ regarded their lot by unaided effort, they merely allowed text to sift their view briefly before attuning the gain into a resonant hold, allowing spacemon’ to augment a secret mimicry of bipedalien humans deemed responsible into that sending needlessly bumped.

Last form then, a way to end all ways, wiped eerily from a lens were visors so enabled a dim if summary perception of voluminousity, Charles hoisted the tiger moth ajar. This probe, of laughable (to the expedition) stock, had recently damaged a cowling. Before the tapper expunged it, the duty observer, determining the plaintive etchings were untenet, performed a contextual download which seemed of little interest to any of them. The numerous folders topping the desk had sorted an arrangement yielding specific conclusions to the feverish analysis of Dr. Logan Ferguson. Of a series of seven confidential reports, opened in hopes of arresting the curtain’s descent, the first read utmost importance, while the seventh remained unsealed and unmarked but for a summit dare.

Pan an ongoing report not yet released, as curt lantern faction mote turned to that space that could not help being liked for its apostrophic effect. Resisting lists nary without, it could (wherein sial themes averred stoically uppermost) heed ‘tis of that wealds angled for over and a day. Political debts cured, their fistulous asides tampered heedlessly forth, quite astonished as eternity and truth islets code, acting seasonably during 8/8/88, Læmært as inspectorial factotum had followed momentous events of Dauphine’s trial, burst with edicts. So cribbed from entire other solo wash worsts that, inwardly, her path was tempered in parity of universal restraint impolitic, she’d bravely confuted barristers and taken the entire fall too.

In this fun era laid best were plans of a sort that shy lemurs dug all about, phonily wielding propinquitous tares of elasticity. As even imps, elated with her refusal to depart from scratch, ran through, Læmært had missed that henna wasteland goddess ever since, at whiles, only here was love actually rad, and while jangled reams of deposit comprised a bulk without, no longer consuming him, Esherman posed, here now alone, one call alacritously; though the process dribbled, that was all right. It was much more devoted to this office than any of his peers, and had long considered its mandate to re–establish ancient traditions of fact.

From this, he’d hoped to win her informal confluence, and had sworn, though echoes duly bent to find out what was on, when she’d accepted employment in the colonies, where legions stood poised to smite her maladjusted zealotry, he feared, or wasn’t aware of any compromise with a shadow puppet, reputed as charging that none of them would be sufficed too live? In moments now, Læmært could read that much verbiage as merely biodegradable product from an austere desert sect, maddened with sand, but then like sick travail his heritage sloshed back, red in tooth and claw, they must all be plucked out like dream teeth and flung afar. And why not, they all seemed bent on self–dissolution anyway, his great love had flown from him like a moth hadn’t she?

Only here, thrippence, in the crèche of a great cusp, was Læmært inclined to consider events rationally. Were this sickness, then sobeit. The decision claimed behind agave theme other thin aims of value–mad reason, events, however he shed light, evolve so a non–melee. Esherman had to know how Dauphine’s sponsor, Sergei, had trafficked in Ossianian artifacts. Already the curator Idres had released a strange summary disclosure of method involvement, an unswerving dedication to reconstruction of their cultural heritage. Thus resolved, Læmært would find and in due course devise means of releasing news of Sergei’s complicity to a world as panicked and surfeit with all get–out, and her sponsor thus discredited, Dauphine must float back across the pond to his own wasting mind.

Unless this happened the strain would revert, its brief pinnacles forgotten in seconds, framed into a billion oppressive mites bent upon declaiming to others their needs. Mighty friend, the partial swash. Like a cup of coffee on the edge of the table that no one troubled to move, he was afraid one day of never being able to phase the ejection, and already, like Aira, he fell, lobbed, caught up and out and glimpsed terrestrial expanses of dusty cravat winkling then into Esherman footing a risen ford. Logan opened the second envelope, for the IMF had leaned on Soundman. Lacking immediate gem distribution facilities, and starved for by nix baity valet, thus origin cue more finth (that to pendant chef d’cabinet, involving loss of one of their best mutant voles, read Phyrric), those expedited had Ion slap into a session of premonitory diligence.

.   .   .

Nesbit’s daze legibly beheld vast conical luminaries transpired from the coracle and suspended from far beyond, nestling under the most wracked and storm–lashed ranges to the tune of a barbed severance. The few with any inclination to review feeble fields of overtones hovering stubbornly to starboard were able to only indulge in sordidly adapting to the idiom. The third, entitled Global Village, contained a list of auctionable items, personally prepared by Chad as late secretary to the CIC. Coming from it, the historian (all too busy), claimed the entire effort was fruitless due to a peculiar tropic interference, and resumed her thesis of infinite refraction. A list of educational organizations comprised the fourth. An entire hitherto discredited school ilk now flourished, in benign neglect, capable of some general knowledge about humans and their customs.

Dactylogically, the plunge negated an epitome of distances which made all else minimal and exile, less creditable, were any casual servile to protest in din of seasonally sufficient guarantees foreknown, than exactly as scheduled, scrapmon’, a leading adherent, after walking out onto the exterior sensor array, succeeded in twisting it until the gain eked fitfully, tuning their regard until spacemon’, and others with them, began to imagine themselves as within, if not already amidst, the alien culture.

The fifth, a non–sealed Interpol intercept from ICC. Had Bitsy again stipulated, amidst equally prescient concerns weakly sent, only mail toward his own auto reply system, with what naive hindsight an impervious crew might dissuade, from dint of sheer exception, any rue that shall accrue from demise of the tremendous publicist. The sixth, containing lists of transactions in the antique futures market, tabbed with the acronymic IBV. Returning to the first folder, Logan ponderously emphasized its importance. The Ruthenian consulate had wired the ICA seeking extradition for a citizen, Uclosco, implicated in death of the Ossianian minister. The dated folder contained a photograph of a woman and a faded clipping indicated she sought her natural birth parent. The liaison of the CIC had posted the request, inasmuch as the named progenitor, Kalamparumple, key member of the Founder’s League, might wish this information protected. However, the clipping seemed appended by someone who had ignored usual protocols.

At once thereat, queued in Arabica, knowledge of Charles’ often being there then pleased to discuss the tropics with one actually therein, garnered access to an ill–used trunk that brought him promptly within hierologic warrant, a stay sorry so sorely unnecessary to the recipient upon answering, who exclaimed, “thou post–script mountebank, who moved immediately to listen to the clarion mawkishly?” “Would you,” Sergei gulped in return, “for all sake abandon commerce to risk finding them?”

.   .   .

From that sequence of very little light, ahriman obtained information to an obversible at risk of pesky franchise offers recreated. Gravely weakened by blast and the death of his first host, PoD had one jump left. It had to be a good one. Suddenly he recalled the boarding pass left in the seat next to him and clawed at it, sniffing DNA, and spun across the dial until he was back on Institute broadband.

Although finth looked perplexed as their schematics prated the alien tongue without success, Fernand preferred tutoring ninth in their English as second language distance learning class. He was locked in a room without walls and made to erase sentences. “There are objects,” he explained to them. “They are words denoted that on or toward which the action of a verb is directed; also a word or group of noun or noun equivalents in a prepositional phrase. How they begin: with words (nouns), with consonants (pronunciation), with articles, verbs, prepositions, or with very able variables, unknown, charted against an overwhelming adjective description, and/or with prepositions, verbs, or articles, are how sentences can end. Now repeat aft terminally,” Fernand announced, “in Hartford, Hertford, and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly happen.” The fints assayed this topic.

“Herb had aha hag haiku Hal ham Hanoi happier has hat aa wax way Hz.” The variations seemed countless. “They all had pushed four days there left on ice.” “If fiat fib id fig fi if fill fi fin first if fits IV fix fi fizz.” To finth, the code appeared disjointed and moreover fringed upon threshold of an entropy they had just escaped. Since speech tainted outer contact with ere enough calm, they cheered mankind’s essential alphabetical development of, subject to original longhand, starstruck relationships toward autonomic or visceral writing, a practice decried among many (a bleached misspell originally intended as faith) lest original meaning typecast (souls selected by inter–regnum to perpetuate their strain) upon any of the arriving participle found fluid rite. With chance began then them eager to race for abundance in a Boolean bounce oeuvre per se constant. A point yet gained to Ion with the air of immisciblity; obtained cognizance of little actually that was quiet let me finish ingested as dark material debut, the rank mime etude business ellipsis from me intuited no cause that was quite from their top shelf. Eventually preliterate Fourierists primarily sibilant somatized scrapmon’ read, only if near of need interested cerulean shown gamboling, endured commencement disabused of any idea of surrogacy, and found earnest naps only plaid with ajar heights; tarns which wept foul trouble to the gulled valid guild, that disavowed any corporate inkling of complicity, despite numerous ceramic expertise branched into pharmaceuticals seen as requisite to Ahem’s stealthy demise. It was just as nearly a dud, the coroner alluding that blast went off weakly, and with hardly ample force to vaporize casing deemed a non–cause, scrapmon’, all bells rheostating, Ahem in hackneyed mufti, had a groat with either eye astrew.

“Perhaps he was not getting around enough anymore as irascible as likely finding her dopey walk double talk et cetera from avuncular habit.” “Fi fib if id fi fig if fi if fin fi if fir IRS fit fi IV if fix iffy if.” Sophistry led some of the principles into real dubious interpretations of sentiment. Only two other idioms were conveying an essential ere: that an odd entirety hence comprised from the least, viz., geriatricide perpetrated under aegis of the uchaux both before, during, and after time stops, a sophisticated process of convincing subjects to go west in order to create a purifiable soul, freed from all conceits, for an inter–regnum facility hidden in the thirteenth century; aged parent traps and sport direct tour aloe its proof that ethos else teases who flour ii am not small smack smell see smell meg smell semi smell men smell Sep smell mere met smells met smell smelly magpie cage.

Casting his towel into the Rubicon, Finthector signed for an immediate cessation, but like your nearsighted flutist who always drew ire of the ninth great band teacher, one more question leaked into ether and forced everyone to justify their own existence. “Am I BA babe BC bad be barf bag bah baize bag bake ball is ban boa bad bar bas bat baud ax bay bazaar?” Weary of being tagged to rescue oversized bagels from toasters, scrapmon’ vastened into the case of the Ossianian investiture minister.

“Aloe unkempt, how the finesse ha’en thee sooth, coordinated Erictho, created a fuss a–wreath, a tux in eistedfodd amino, intuited several inns there, all for ultimate trendy suet. So one, i.e., had an ergot, mixed,” scrapmon’, who on the flip side, said with enough perforce demurrals toward degrees conferred in recess, and being among the first to steady the archetypal response of being not carefully enough within the holy guitar regard, love, an immoderate censure of momentary totality at a certain staid hat person, involved to a degree with similar caprice on pruning offsets, “is thus a suggestive mynah sign, whoops, I chiel in spicier dives foment, mute delight here, the barren raptor poets forth at a schoolish pace.” Fernand enjoyed however tutoring finth in ESL classes offered at the Institute, in return for what favor omnibus did fugitives bestow upon samplers.

Even as exigency forced him to remember skills of a forgotten era, when this carbuncle had shown him the quickest method of forgetting daily, peeling away pesky encyclicals to leave only usable essence, such loss leaders as they had transmogrified even the propriety for cornet markers who were lately so apt to return their changed shingled lane. A thread of peculiar interest centered on movements of the International Brotherhood of Valets (IBV), an organization that included, among many talents, a devotion or principle for dissolution of inter-personal corporations.

Another trail focused on claims of the splinter group, Orphics, whom Ferguson formally embraced as heretics to his own cause, because their baffling insistence upon immediate transmigration of body and soul upon death, despite infringing his sense of doctrinal propriety, had time after time somehow happened, yielding transmigrationism much credence in the world press. Forasmuch as this occupation alarmed steadier opinion, however, the new ilk were well along toward captivation of the entire expedition, at the expense however of ignoring, if not outrightly disdaining, their traditional support network, represented in the unwelcome message now unfolding.

.   .   .

12/20/2012, 11:51 PM. Greetings too hollow recalcitrant fifth: Hey. Much as we are aggrieved that in haste thou hold thy harness intransigently, your achievements gratify the counsels of our wisdom. Terran conceptions of genomonous predicative aside, the identification of oryza sativa as among this planet’s superior beings has gone far to eliminate any other avenue of extraneous diligence. You must have been very bored to employ your talent to this topic. Nevertheless, inter–regnum salute (please consider applying field elevation to the recovery site as a valuably additional tool). Slipped, Ambassador, an, An Indocile, Grand High Ambassador. P.S. Loved by the people, Ahem would have stopped on a dime to pick up gum. We already established the Ossianian Consulate, though steeped in traditions of slouching, was a mere tabula rasa from which he, grungiest of those, arisen following a career of meteorological ascendance.

In tradition of First Sea Lord, Ahem stalled the consulate in a stenciled lapel, reading send more mere work, in part fully coercing blase ephemeral cyber pacifism, bent from far–along reaches of corridors, where, intent upon restoring tiers of grandeur by capable cheer, their vim bid more entrancing, may naive countrymen point to creation Lothar disconnected, declining to visitors, when Ahem announced, moreover, the decision to waive his lists personally, that several shorts ran amok indeed. Then, Ahem was unable to exert an immediate influence upon the investigation of his own death, although non–corporeal themes persisted in the last retort. Concern fell upon cadets of Midlothian causality.

Any observer of aplomb, of craft inscrutable, placidly disrupting matriculations, might devolve upon questions of recent codicil and hie the brevets towards a fiacre of diligence. Ordinarily this one wish to appoint a sponsor charged with delaying rightful ken, though preliminarily, hence troubled principals, in receipt of word that plenum, reinforced with blast baffling tungsten dowels, betrayed an extraordinary degree of training, sent fittest witnesses into the Hebrides for advanced cold weather planning. They themselves convened proactively for a season of barnstorming. While technically chair of the event, the factotum sat sleepily as they trundled a lease lintel onto the place. His premise of speech, an odd constant concertina murmur punctuated by explosive dichotomies, had numbed his colleagues into nerveless sentience. How nice to live in a mythical country where no one spoke out of turn.

Rex Ampersand began, did he have any fosses? The insurance commissar, his complexion a placid puce, remained silent, while others glanced anxiously at Ingersoll, prefect of Lyonesse, a foil for flak so often that he seemed to be next heir apparent, tentatively gave to his detractors the big fake smile. It was early enough today for them to consider speech a liability, hence some inaugural statements passed in a miasmic tosh. The arrival of tea gave a chance to ponder Rex’s elementary belief. That Ahem’s tenure at the embassy was drear exile. Yet with such brilliant fervor had Ahem approached his diplomatic tasks that plebes who’d hoped that he might slip up out there were in dread chagrin; moreover, entire classes now bore his stamp and upheld him out as their only champion in such wise that all about them, the entire yard might be said to have loved Ahem.

Only those principles, in due course, who harbored any real possibility of hearing him were present in this very room. “The unspeakable diphthong,” Fernand attempted to instill in his students, “is gateway to the other reality, but today we’re studying consonance. Let’s start with blahs, a noisy family of contrasts, of black blades blaming bland blarneys for blase blazers. Next are zebras, they are brackish bradykinin of braggadocio, who brandish brassy brats bravely braying. After spending twelve years studying the history of self–cancelling klatches, and compiling documentation of forty–three separate events, Ferguson thought that he finally had an explanation.” Since 1815, several events had occurred in circumstance that seemed to bear out claims of transmigrationism. They had left diverse locations without leaving a trace.

If Dr. Ferguson had but shreds of supposition to link the IBV to these occasions, the opportunity of present events re–asserted, words beginning with ch–, collectively termed chi [sic], were sacred emblems of ancient power, of chains, chairs, chances, charity chests, chias purchased at the last instant before Christmas, choices, and chiaroscuro choruses, yet took care, for this realm is guarded by chaff, charlatans, cheapskates, and churls. There are clabber words clad with clammy clans who clap clarinets after class claustrophobically. The factotum misheard, and lacking an erasure, the hapless scribe rubbed his knuckles against the indelible surface and rephrased, the tea distributors exeunted, and a listless point, the comptrometer promised, arrived in their careers.

It was listless to even contemplate mulcting questions at everyone; the joy once inherent in ferreting truths from the midden of human knowledge had palled so long ago, even after replies began boiling in. We may skip over the draws, a cosmos of ritual intake, of drags, dregs, drinks, and drugs. “Moving on, ineffably flabby flaccid flagellants flail flamboyant flamingo flashbacks,” Fernand mentioned, adding that frabjously fractious frail fragrances framed frankfurters frantically.

.   .   .

With fleeting evidence that the IBV intended to perform another vanishing act, in conjunction with recent telephone conversations that had almost shattered his nerve, sallowly, impertinent but here, and Brussels figuring prominently, Logan sprinted to the marble kiosk and wryly dialed his travel agency. A seat on the midnight Concorde to Iberia gathered assistance carefully. All had medicinal expertise to apply to the problem. Manasseh, the Rabbi Esherman, retired sixth fleet surgeon, answered his telephone tonight. “How round are you now these days,” Logan gasped ten years after? Had one realized that there was more to one’s own life yet was too far gone in twisted and subtle logic to reclaim a thing? Adjustor Blank ventured, “at what moment did the expulsion occur?”

With impending details, hopeful that eagerness concealed inner torment, Noone had failed to notice the insurance commissar’s penchants flagging. “Gentlemen,” the commissar Ingersoll began, “let us ditch the primer for a second and spontaneously comb the air for adjectives. None of us, nay not one of us are here to praise cææsær. Indeed we loathed and despised the fancy boy, always pressing a new uniform code here, a new surveillance there, ere now had we longed for the coup laying him to rest.” The Rabbi Esherman trilled lowly earfuls at audible nightfall, slowing serviceable putts upon the wasp. “We loathe all that’s fine ridden,” Logan said, “but you had better than ongoing too many little noises in front.”

Rex mused, “in fact the motive, though unclear, concerns us not at all.” Blank asserted, “it was obviously work of a premier formal.” Actuary Dake vouched, “he was a theorist.” Rex continued, “how ironic, we might say, that they have struck down their only friend.” “And we will attest to that,” the insurance commissar asserted, “the stank of asphodel shall adorn his shrewd byre, extol his qualities, and leave no room for doubt in persistent, thaumaturgent reason, able men, or obscurantist reactionaries.”

“Up close it will,” Esherman conceded, adding, with what all else minded, “beyond sending other boats, until avenged upbeats, enough to walk out with forklifts, shan’t wave one bean?” Change is the only constant […] look at the sleepy factotum who waited for storms of topaz benediction […] meanwhile, the facts of the case […] with him one could never tell where the ellipsis looked off over blankly. If startled, the insurance commissar stirred restlessly as his factotum continued […] we have too many babes out there […] agreed, the insurance commissar chimed in, we need someone to spit up on them.

“The pinwheels are already out there chewing on public affairs,” said the comptrometer. “Detox cables, fathomed here without commission in the last place densely splotched,” Ferguson explained, unraveled momentarily. “They’ll toast any of us,” Rex agreed. “Wait for a second, who’ll doubtless slip up, whatever you want to say.” “Gentlemen, none of us are fit to continue at present our office, much less conduct an investigation with that sort of viz.” “We need someone who can stand on the public eye,” Blank added. “Someone who is not unimpeachable,” Dake chimed in.

“Only isn’t known yet,” Esherman surmised? “Ampersand, Læmært’ll have op-eds folding on this sort of thing yesterday.” Before they rang off, Logan asked Esherman to locate Thledvirrson, master diver instructor. The latter said that she was not returning messages nowadays, yet they might color Ion as already there.

.   .   .