The NULL Solution = Episode 152
…Hold on there slim, we have a lot of catching up to do…
“Let me explain: I am here to discuss the Ÿ€Ð leviathan, ⃝ , Harmonia…”
“Hold on there slim! We have a lot of catching up to do. I will zap over the coordinates to my Eupepsia location right now.” Sampson’s numbers contain an erroneous decimal shift. “See you in a few.”
He waits patiently for the Seljuk leader. He waits still. “I guess there are some wrinkles.”
Deimostra is startled when a complete strange off-worlder rudely reassembles in her living quarters, which are a decimal point above Sam’s Expository position.
Chasonn’s initial assemblage on Eridanus is not what he was expecting. This clearly is not Sampson McKinney. This is a female possessing similar facial features, but she is definitely a she.
He freezes in place.
Instead of panic, he encounters calm. Not much surprises her these days.
The accidental visitor takes one step forward with his hands raised. “I am Chasonn of Seljuk. I was expecting to see Sammy Mac.”
“That would be my Dad.”
He does not know what to say other than, “You resemble him.”
“So Chasonn uses a Star Trek transporter to get around.”
Cultural nuances can be a barrier to accurate communication. She gets that from her father.
“Or Sammy Mac fed you bad info… bad in, bad out. Daddy missed by one floor. I will take you down to him.”
“Please excuse my intrusion.”
“No problem sir,” her response is formal, but her hormonal radar, which has been up and running for Skaldic, reboots with the appearance of yet another attractive alien. Let it be known, not every alien male catches her eye. This must be her lucky cycle. They locate Sammy Mac’s proper position…
“He is not a traveling junk salesman… at least I don’t think so?”
“No you silly girl, Selljunk is one star cluster over sweetie; that’s where Mom, Deke and me went, using that kick-ass TSF in the Defender. Chasonn here is a primo inventor too. He sent some cool weapons and molecular stuff over to Earth.” Sam is ready to show Chasonn around. “Let me take you over to my son Deke. He and Cerella made a child since we were over in your galaxy. Oh, and then there is my pal Skaldy, he’s a hoot!”
“And I am chopped liver.” A young girl’s fancy is fragile.
Chasonn does not bolt directly. He bows with the formality afforded royalty, “My hope is that we will meet again under better circumstances.” He is speaking the universal language of respect.