Free SciFi Ebook - The Conflicting Companionships

Chapter 3

As Gen meandered, he wondered if he had decided correctly. He had flown for only ten minutes. Yet, he began to follow a circuitous route. He was still near Len’s home, but was noncommittal in which direction to head although he knew his purpose.

Gen wanted to visit the Capable Pencil Crayons (CPCs). Unconquerable, the CPCs were the most powerful living beings. Rating the CPCs power on a scale of one to ten, the CPCs sat at the summit, with a score of ten. The drags and wicks breathed closely behind, both sitting at eight.

The CPCs were comprised of various colours ranging from yellow to black. All of them, even the weakest ones, were puissant. In addition, the CPCs could talk like drags. In fact, they possessed a melodic voice, which could vibrate caves and shake homes. They were a gifted kin.

When Gen was young, Len had innuendoed their existence. From that time on, Gen had stayed alert of their whereabouts and had tried to extract information from every practicable source. He finally ended up with enough information to tackle the journey, but lacked the courage to do so until now. He had prudently thought it over before resolving to go.

Only the lucky ones would find them, as they discreetly concealed themselves in covert abodes. Since the beginning of time, they had resided at the same clime. The CPCs abode, the “Lead Utensils’ Dungeon,” was named after the substance of their kin. They combated in that dungeon only. It consisted of a long series of tunnels that contained much mystery. Gen questioned himself, however, even as to its approximate location. When a dedicated creature discovered their home, two Lemon Yellows would challenge that individual.

If any being wanted to see them, they had to pass from the lowest to the highest levels, with each level garrisoned by one or several hues. This served as a challenging series of tests.

Gen had discovered the CPCs dialect from his meticulous research. Although the CPCs knew how to speak, they had a particular mother tongue and were finicky as to how foreigners spoke it. If they thought something was really execrable, or iniquitous, they would advert to it as black. If they thought something was intrinsically mellow, or good, they would pertain to it, as yellow. They would, therefore, only utter three words per sentence, such as “Referring to orange.”

Gen believed it was vital to learn how to speak their language in advance. It would have taken most drags decades to master such a nebulous language, but Gen—descending from crafty antecedents—had learned it in two years.

Gen was committed to pass all the tests and see Dark Black, named from what he was. If two CPCs of the same colour existed, though, they were numbered—the most powerful labelled as “one.”

Gen had always dreamed of meeting these fantastic creatures. The experience would beatify him, so he now endeavoured as hard as he could to find them. He gained little ground, however, because he was too confused, and bodies with perplexed minds remain stagnant. After a while, he noticed his recalcitrant persistence failed, so he allayed his anxieties.

Both mentally and physically, he felt distorted. He soon began to panic from having accomplished nothing; his random travelling had sagged his spirit. Finally, he put his thoughts into perspective: he concentrated on his destination after realizing it would be a long journey.

Soon, Gen was back on course and starting the quest. He wished to profit from this trek, but felt dubious whether he would. He gradually edged forward, but still trailed considerably.

Only one hour had passed since his departure, so the drags could still catch him. In fact, he thought he heard his appellation ushered in faint echoes. Without speaking, therefore, he pressed on.

He brought only a long, powerful staff. It was taller than he, and held magical, occult powers. Jen had given it to him as encouragement when one of his brothers had left. Every time he looked at it, though, it reminded him of his family, so he tried to look ahead instead.

He now noticed the heat. It had risen steadily, but fire-breathing drags could bear the heat. Besides, it influenced his staff to shimmer brightly.

Since he was only carrying a staff, though, he felt vulnerable. He was adapted to the environment of Len and his family. Thus, he felt ungainly and alienated in journeying in unfamiliar surroundings. His flying, also maladroit, had lost its usual demureness. If he met any dangerous creatures, he would have to be aggressive, but astute.

When he was young, Jen had often sung hymns to him, which he had highly appreciated. Currently, he recalled some of them and silently sang them to himself because they comforted him. He had a sweet, tender voice, which Bern had always adulated.

After three hours, he knew he was approaching a force. Here, the atmosphere was easier to inhale, and the visibility was greater. Besides drags, wicks, and CPCs, other creatures existed in the centre of the Earth, but Gen had never encountered any. He soon, however, discerned with his acute eyesight tiny creatures even more diminutive than humes.

The creatures suspended themselves in the atmosphere like a butterfly with absolutely no purpose. Without taking another glimpse at the creatures, though, Gen pressed on.

During his entire flight, he gazed straight ahead; his mind was replete with determination. Probably no one had realized yet he had gone, but he accelerated, gradually reaching full speed. He could not maintain the pace, though, because he was an untrained flyer, so he grudgingly decelerated.

Unconsciously, he blew out a breath of fire. He rarely unleashed fire because he did not know how to do it properly. Besides, his breath seemed wimpy. When he released his fire, all objects froze, but regained motion after he shut his jaw. With each trial, however, his fire became more calorific. He had expected to take much longer to amend his fire, but it exalted him to have greater control this soon.

Neither the vicissitudes of fortune nor of misfortune befell him, so he slightly relaxed. It would be absurd to grow tense from the bizarre environment. Yet, he thought, when an uneventful circumstance persists, it usually signifies “soon.”

As the hours passed, though, he grew disheartened. After five hours, he had still travelled nowhere. Time also became significant now. The CPCs could sense what creatures sought them and thus timed how long it took the creatures to locate them.

Gen gradually began to perceive a bleak future, as he rapidly lost time. Many triumphs and disappointments had occurred during his life, which thus resembled a roller coaster ride. For example, he was once almost killed by a viral disease. Luckily, his vitality had revived him from it. This time, however, he doubted he would recover from his present depression.

Although his body flew, his mind wandered. He could not concentrate on anything. He tuned himself up a notch in the reaction department because he feared he might be killed. He tightened his grip on his staff and gritted his teeth. His tenacity aided him, but he felt vulnerable from the little armour he wore.

He augmented his altitude because the heat had aggrandized. He decided if he did not find the CPCs after six months, he would quit, but would stay away from Len's home. One of Gen's brothers had also stayed aloft after fleeing, and Gen had never seen him again. Gen, too, valued his pride more than his life. Moreover, Len would unmitigatedly castigate him if he returned. This conclusion propelled him to try harder.

His head was now immovable—his neck stiff from flying—and he was gliding instead of flapping his rigid wings. His upper body positioning itself lower than his nether body also indicated his fatigue. Gen now lusted for a reflector, or mirror, in order to view his own condition. When he was at Len’s home, he had always stared into a big mirror, glancing into it nearly every second.

He had anticipated to have more hap in finding the CPCs, but unfortunately, it had resulted conversely. He despised his mischance. Yet, Gen had faith that the final outcome would blossom for him.

Suddenly, Gen sensed the worth of his present pursuit. He felt refreshed. Different. New. He was intruding upon an unknown potency to other drags. The topography had once again changed, like a shift in seasons: spring had arrived.

He attempted to keep himself pacified. It partially succeeded because his face remained deadpan.

He still required more altitude, so he strenuously flapped his wings, which engendered a euphonious fluttering murmur like one of a butterfly. An orange tint engulfed him as he unknowingly neared the dungeon.

He now entered a labyrinth, and in that maze, he entered a trance. Soon, he recommenced with his gliding because he was safe.

Eight hours had passed, and he thought he heard his appellation in faint whispers, so he accelerated again, alarmed at the proximity of his pursuers.

He reconsidered returning and momentarily repressed himself from forging ahead, but afterwards rejected the conviction. A sudden surge of wrath came to him, causing him to grimace. Then, he frowned. He almost cried, but he bated the tears. Years of training had educated him to esteem himself, so he continued on his crusade.

He manoeuvred and pivoted himself in order to follow the most apposite route. His motion patterned “up up down, left left right, forwards, backwards, northeast southwest, southeast northwest.” This mysterious formula of Gen had produced miracles for him in the past. Assured it would also help this time, he trembled from excitement.

He entered new territory again, but had no expectations. The incongruous surroundings intimidated him, but he knew he would still be safe.

An abrupt clamour apprehended him. He resiled, cowering behind a monumental, sturdy boulder. Luckily, boulders were commonly found in Dragland. For three minutes, nothing happened, but suddenly, he realized he was already in the Lead Utensils’ Dungeon (LUD), and this was his first test. His objective here was to become visible to some CPCs.

Two of each of Orange-Yellow and Green-Yellow challenged him. The four CPCs formidably stood on gigantic boulders.

First, one of the Orange-Yellows floated up and released the boulder. It travelled on a course that would surely hit Gen. Gamely, though, he closed his eyes, dignifiedly held up his head, and waited. The boulder never flailed him, and nor did the other three CPCs. This level, therefore, tested courage.

The action, however, persisted. Behind the Orange-Yellows and Green-Yellows, another set of CPCs came: a company of Apricots, Peaches, Yellow-Oranges, Sea-Greens, and Yellow-Greens. In an even more arduous challenge, Gen overcame that level also.

Gen progressed further and finally crossed a greenish-red line. Once he traversed it, he entered a spacious, silent room. Suspicious of the room, he remained circumspect with every flap.

He was unaware he had such pertinacity and could advance this far. The actual reason he had come to the LUD was that he wanted to learn more. He was a student of learning. He always felt his knowledge of the universe was insufficient, but the opportunity belonged to him now.

The room led to a steep path, so he followed the trail. He continued until he observed five Greens and five Pine-Greens. This test examined differentiation of objects. The two groups of Greens reordered themselves, and Gen had to sort them into the original two groups in ten minutes, or else, this area would detonate.

Gen, however, did not know it would explode, so he took his time. Using his paws, he assorted them into two groups as if he played with wooden toy blocks. He often had to guess because he had difficulty distinguishing them from one another in the dimness.

Fortuitously, he finished just before his time had expired. Yet, nothing happened to the ten CPCs; they lay statically in their respective piles. Then suddenly, the Greens transformed into Yellow-Oranges, and the Pine-Greens converted into Pure-Oranges. They underwent such subtle modifications that he lost sight of them until the alterations had fully discontinued.

His only prospect was to hurl his staff at them, so he took precise measurements and aimed. Miraculously, the CPCs disappeared.

Next, he heard a voice from a CPC coloured salmon. Salmon1 avowed, “We know that you came to avoid your problems.”

Gen deliberated over what Salmon1 had said, but his thoughts were interrupted by Salmon2.

Suddenly, Salmon2 said, “If people scorn you and don't think you're great, ignore them.”

“You are good-willed, but be prudent. These are our first morsels of advice, so even if you don’t pass the next level, you can still take home this counsel,” said Salmon3. “We must now leave you with more tests.”

The test began when the 9 “originals” (the Violet-Reds, Maroons, and Magentas) charged at Gen. Gen handled the situation with calmness and eventually forced those CPCs to vanish. Gen named the 9 CPCs who had just posed resistance as the “C’s Army” because of their fierce fighting. Afterwards, Gen passed many more levels, having to deal with such CPCs as Bittersweet, Mahogany, Burnt-Sienna, Violet-Blue, Grey, Blue-Violet, Violet, and Brown.

Seven and a half eventful days had elapsed since his departure. For the first time since he could remember, he smiled incessantly.

Gen moved deeper into the LUD’s heart. It grew chillier, but he preferred the coldness to the heat wave because in cold weather, one simply added more clothing; in hot weather, one could undress no further after taking off all raiment.

As he flew into interminable empty space, he seemed to enter a dream. Liberally manoeuvring, he chose his turns with discretion.

He continued to move on, but discovered an abbreviated route. When he stepped across a line, he entered another glob of empty space. In that empty space, however, a glaring, almost glowing, light, shone, a stark antithesis to the blackness. He preferred the darkness, though, because the light now hurt and blinded his eyes.

Obviously, he still remained at the present level because a muteness ensued. Perhaps the CPCs were unprepared. But before Gen opened his eyes, down flew White.

White descended majestically. The way he flew suited his name. When White tapped, the obscure, incandescent light instantly vanished. Gen could now see.

White floated about forty feet away from Gen. Gen was speechless, astonished by White’s gracefulness. He wished to ask questions, but his lips disobeyed him.

White said, “I'm elated with your responses to our CPCs. You should do more of it. A paucity of creatures come to the end of our challenges, but you're one of them. You must be exhausted by now. I’ll get you something on which to rest.”

White instantly synthesized a bed-like structure consisting of chaste silver. Gen gratefully accepted the invitation and relaxed himself. It was comparable to a monarch’s mattress due to its comfort and elegance. It also had various special functions, including massaging.

Gen dozed off for a day. A drag usually slept once every ten days; each time, he would sleep for two days. Gen thus snoozed for only half of the regular duration. His sleep was sound, though, having no any nightmares or seething dreams. When he awoke, White and Azure accompanied him. Azure sparkled with such splendour that Gen blinked upon seeing him.

“You've regenerated most of your energy and power, I gather?” asked Azure. “Please continue to exploit your energy wisely. You have sublimated your powers tremendously. Be proud of yourself. Do you have a wish? I’ll grant anything you say. It’ll be my present to you.”

“Yes, I do. May I please speak to Bla-uh-your superior?” asked Gen anxiously.

“You mean Black?”

“Yes.”

“Of course. I should have guessed. That was the main reason you came, wasn't it? But why don't we talk first? Black detests answering questions, so you can ask me what you want to know now.”

“How many CPCs live together in total, and did I kill any of them? My conscience feels uncomfortable.”

“No,” laughed White. “Of course not. After meeting you, they just went to set up for the next creature that would come along. You didn’t kill any of them, so don’t worry. As for your first question, even I don't know. Our population proliferates every year. Does that satisfy you?”

“Yes, indeed, but may I meet any of these guards whom I've already encountered?”

“You will if you stay here long enough. These guards take millions, and I mean millions, of rests each century. We rotate our guards every 6 to 12 hours. Sometimes, they want to stay longer. That’s just the way they work around here,” Azure expounded.

“One last statement I wish to make. You've treated me grandly. If I can ever be of service to your kin, please call on me, although I can't imagine CPCs ever needing assistance.”

“Thanks for offering. Now, I believe you wished to see Black. White and I will lead the way. But it’s a long journey to where he operates the LUD. Black likes privacy, and we give him a lot of that. After all, he’s really the one who keeps our civilization running.”

Journey? thought Gen. He would collapse from another minute of flapping his tired, sore wings. Aloud, though, he said, “Great. I’m ready to trek.”

For two days, Azure, White, and Gen travelled into the abyss of the LUD. Gen was the tourist; Azure and White, the guides. Gen found it droll acting as a tourist. They flew at a moderate pace, which suited Gen, for he was too tired to go fast.

After Day 1, Gen ate. He was voracious since he had neglected to eat for so long. Servants gave him liquids and frozen liquids. The CPCs only consumed liquid, so they had no other treat for their guest. Nonetheless, their different kinds of liquids substituted as charming comestibles.

Gen learned much from White and Azure’s explanations. One of the topics they explored was geology. Much of this topic concerned the formation and composition of rocks in the LUD. Yet, Gen knew Black would have more specific answers to his questions.

The three finally arrived when they reached an impervious wall. A covert door then opened, and a long flight of shiny stairs appeared.

“You must go ahead on your own now,” said Azure. “This is a test, although I’m sure you’ll have many more to come. Black ordained me to give you some creative advice before you leave, though, and I will: Your most vital muscle is the key to this rhyme because if you listen, it will tell you the time. Remember that phrase! It’s been a pleasure for us talking to you. Good luck!” With that, Azure assisted Gen to the stairs, withdrew, and closed the arcane door.

Gen had not anticipated White, Azure and he would split up so quickly and abruptly. He had neglected to inquire more, but with Black, he would prevent himself from committing that same mistake.

Gen silently repeated aloud the advice Azure had shared with him. When he could not solve the riddle, though, he considered his alternatives. He had two volitions: to try to re-open the entrance he had just entered, or to hurdle up the stairs. He favoured neither idea. The second, however, seemed more logical, but he loathed to meet any “furry” creatures hiding in here.

After trying, but failing, to open the entrance, he strutted up the steps. He moved charily and hammered his staff on each step, producing a steady beat. The more he walked, the more consistent his pace became. His tread muffled all other sounds.

The more he listened, the more laggardly he walked. By strolling, though, he observed more. He never rested, however, to conserve energy. His heart yearned only to encounter Black.

As he progressed, he often recited Azure's words. He needed to know what his most vital muscle was. The sphinx-like rhyme, brilliantly contrived, enigmatized his mind.

Solving the conundrum was his first priority. Yet, his mind looked ahead at all the competitions he would face in the upcoming weeks. His eyes saw a never-ending stairway.

“Never” was an improper term to describe the shiny steps. When one says “never,” it expresses no hope remains. So restrain from saying “never”, thought Gen.

The width of the steps was narrow enough for a drag to fit comfortably. In addition, the zigzagging lane curving up into unchartered territory had regular steps—that is, one tread for each step. No roof covered Gen’s head, though.

His paws sank delicately into each tread. He stepped on burnished indium, so when he looked back, his paw marks were invisible, as if they had never existed.

He recalled that this segment of his quest resembled much of its first component when he had rambled alone. Both times, he had an articulate purpose. Even though he now had the experience from the battles, he still stretched to reach his central destination.

Gen sauntered with haughtiness and dignity. He held his head high and flicked up his tail. His posture whetted him to feel honoured to be a drag, and a drag to be revered.

After two consecutive days of climbing, Gen had depleted his once vivacious condition. Brusquely, his peripheral vision descried an exit. He climbed two more steps; undoubtedly, what he saw was veracious.

He then halted and opened his ears. He heard his heart beating. What a nitwit I was, he thought. So, his most vital muscle was his heart, but how it would tell the time still muddled him.

He continued to clamber up to the exit. With each step, he gained a clearer sight of it. When he finally climbed all the steps, he turned around and peered down. He would detest to ascend that acclivity again because this escalation was a prodigious hurdle—even for a drag.

Now that he stood up here, he went further and entered empty space. Shortly afterwards, he saw a stone wall stretching high above the ground. It was another dead-end. This time, he wondered if he really would die. If another drag had come, that drag would have had reverted back home, but the temporary impediment to Gen’s success failed to shake his sangfroid.

He would, therefore, cede only after relentless persistence. Besides, he had proceeded to this stage. He flew perversely to the wall and shoved his shoulder against it, but it resisted. He flew back to the centre of the room and looked back. The entrance to the room was also impeded by now, so he was snared. He turned again and looked around. He decided that the space to his left and right sides could lead him out, so he tested his hypothesis. It was incorrect, though.

Soon, he depleted himself of ideas, but when he glanced down, he saw the ground. He resolved to throw his staff towards it to determine if it would regress. He scrupulously aimed for the centre of the ground. When the staff bludgeoned it, the floor magically withdrew, causing his staff to plunge. As fleetingly as a leopard, he chased the retracting ground. But soon, the ground stopped, and he was able to grab his staff.

He now realized the floor served as an elevator carrying him down. When the floor had stopped, he saw a straight tunnel winding downwards beside the floor, but he hoped he would not face another impasse after reaching the opposite end of the stairs—he was irritated with dead-ends. If an impasse did exist, it would resemble inability to find a job after years of education.

The upshot resulted exactly in what Gen had feared. After flying for approximately thirty seconds, he had incurred a sturdy, solid wall. Made of a more durable metal, it was more substantial than the previous one.

Gen executed the same act that had led him here: he shot his staff against the wall. Although the momentum of his staff was great, it did not even scratch the wall. Yet, it did manage to make a strident echo.

The resonance permeated through divers chambers. When Black heard it, he streaked out. As the wal1 slid open, he saw Gen.

Gen had just caught his staff and was alarmed to see a creature. He quickly recovered and landed on the relocated ground. He stood dignifiedly, yearning to impress Black.

Gen had initially inferred that Black was an ordinary CPC, as Gen had been unable to distinguish him from the CPCs whom he had previously met. Black was the same size as other CPCs except, of course, a dark shade of black covered his body.

Gen also noticed that behind Black, there was nothing—just uniform blackness. The setting was bland, as if nothing occupied the land behind Black. Gen noticed something else: no roof, or cover of any sort, existed above them or above the other CPC chambers. This induced Gen to puzzle over the location of this place.

Black, like a hospitable host, welcomed Gen. “Please step in. Sorry for having you wait so long.”

“No, I was enjoying it,” Gen said politely.

“Usually my guards are here, but today I gave them a rest. Unluckily for you, this just happened to be the day you came here.”

“No, it's a pre-eminent honour having you personally open the door for me. I'm lucky. Not unlucky. Really. I mean it.”

“Well, if you really say so…”

“Yes. “

“Okay, now. Are we going to stand here ‘til next year, or do you want to see some sites? Come on. I’ll lead the way. Don’t be afraid.”

“Don't worry. I'm not.”

“Well, then what are you waiting for? Let’s set off to my chambers.”

Black briskly flew to the end of the room, while Gen flew aloft, following him. With his tip, Black touched a specific spot on the wall. The wall slid to the left and a room appeared, as if it had instantly formed. Black repeated the process several times, but each time, he touched a different part of a wall. Finally, Gen and Black reached a room of emptiness.

When the last wall slid open, it disclosed over fifty chairs, and many beds and tables. As Black and Gen flew in, the other walls instantly snapped shut.

Black pointed to the wall and explained, “It’s like a code, you see. I mean the walls. Each time I hit a specific area, the door opens. I’ll teach you which spots to touch if you want to try it. Later, that is. Now let me show you to one of my chambers.”

Black showed Gen around his own room. It was forty or fifty times more titanic than the other rooms. Gen’s corpus only occupied about one-four hundredth of the space in the entire room, so he felt vulnerable and unsafe. Black’s accompaniment, however, bolstered his confidence.

Gen acted as the tenant; Black, the landlord. As they toured, Gen heeded Azure's warning of inquiring about nothing. Black was gentle, though, and explained everything he thought Gen would misinterpret.

After a tour around the new setting, Black said, “We employ a special language derived from English. Since you've come so far and know little about the language around here, I’ll try to explain as detailed as possible one of the simplest languages we speak here. It’s like a secret code, but in actual fact, it’s more like a motto.”

“You see, if you refer to something, you usually want to say something else about it—probably by employing an adjective. If we put the phrase in the present tense and add a colour to ‘refer,’ the sentence goes like this: referring to yellow. A free translation gives ‘I feel fine.’ If the speaker feels well, he uses a light pigment. But if he feels disgusted, he uses a dark pigment. For this kind of language, you usually use it to respond to a sentence someone else has said.”

“Mmm. Yes, I think I understand.”

“Let me give you a paradigm. You are stupid. Now, how would you say that—using the language I’ve just described?”

“Referring to black?”

“Excellent! I couldn’t have said it better myself. If the speaker was less acerbic, however, they might have said ‘referring to brown.’ Now, you must remember that Azure gave you a phrase. Please recite it to me.”

“Your most vital muscle is the key to this rhyme because if you listen, it will tell you the time. Oh, please tell me what it means. I’ve been pondering over the solution for ages.”

“I’d be glad to. You got here because you proceeded placidly. I’m sure you can sporadically hear your heart—your most vital muscle—pulsate, or even feel it. So in that regard, it tells the time. And, the slower your heart rate, the better it was for you. I hope that clears up any fog in your mind. Now let’s get onto more substantive matters. Can you explain why you’re here?”

Gen laconically summarized his family matters and told a whit about each member of his huge family. He finished two hours later. Black was patient, as he listened intently without interrupting. “… and I wish to train here. To become a better drag,” concluded Gen.

“I see.” Black had dynamically absorbed the information and had remembered it exactly as told. “Yes, that’s basically what legends say about us. Sure, I’ll ship-shape you into the perfect drag. Since I’ll be helping, it’ll only take two and a half months. But even if I did help and you had a regular brain, it would have taken two centuries. I suggest you quaff or eat something first now and then sleep.”

Black personally served Gen the shavings and juice of a CPCs sloughed skin. Gen did not know what he ate, however, except that it was healthy and wholesome for him. Gen ensconced on a chair as he ate and investigated his new surroundings—it was peculiar, but special.

Afterwards, he cleansed himself. He typically kept himself sanitary, but he had been unable to allot time to wash himself during this odyssey. This was the perfect time to do so. After that, he slept dreamily and heavily. The copious thinking and fighting he had undergone had palled him. Before falling asleep, the last subject about which he thought was the cuddly bed and, its ideal size.

Gen slept continuously for six days. During that time, Black, with ten private servants, prepared the items he would show Gen. When Gen awoke, the preparations were ready. Gen first ate as much as he could cram into his stomach without rendering his body to explode.

Black did not stand anymore. Instead, he had positioned himself in a chair floating above the ground. One servant, Carnation Pinkl, came to Gen and asked, “Would you like to start now?”

Gen looked up despairingly at Black, who, in turn, stared blankly at Gen. Gen replied, ”I’m sorry, but I’d like to sleep a bit ,more. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yes, you may sleep. But tomorrow, we must start,” said Carnation Pink2.

“Why don’t I show you some chambers you’ll be going through,” added Carnation Pink3.

“That’d be great.”

Three chambers encircled the three sides of the main one, but their size was only about the same as earlier ones. Behind the left chamber hid another chamber, but Gen never entered it. It was the “fugitive” room, where the CPCs escaped if danger arose in the LUD.

The constructors had ingeniously forged the flawless chambers. For instance, they had solidly bolstered the walls; scarcely any sediments had fallen onto the ground. Gen thus felt secure where he stood.

Since Gen was beguiling himself by observing the fascinating setting, he would resent to sleep. Yet, he forced himself to do so. He would weather some arduous days in the next few months, so he required sufficient rest.

Carnation Pinkl thus escorted him to the same bed in which he had previously slept, but Black had juggled around the furniture so to provide the room with a more spacious appearance. His servants had relocated Gen's bed to the northeast corner, where many other beds—including the ones in which the Carnation Pinks slept—sat.

It took a while before Gen fell asleep, but when he awoke, the next morning had arrived. Carnation Pinks stood close by. He noticed whenever he woke up, guards would be posted near him.

Gen quickly stoked and performed his daily ablutions. Black was absent, so Carnation Pink3 started off Gen. Gen had grown to like Carnation Pink3 because Carnation Pink3 had served him so frequently.

They first entered the right chamber, basically another room saturated with chairs. Twenty chairs—one for each day Gen would be here—had been arranged into four neat rows, with five chairs per row. After finishing one level, he would move on to the next chair.

Once Gen settled in the first chair and stopped fussing, the chair floated into the air. Arms on both sides of the chair prevented anyone from tumbling down. Carnation Pink3 then dismissed himself, and the wall acting as the door slid shut.

An electric cable connected the chair to Black’s private chamber, where Black and some Carnation Pinks sent messages to Gen. They accomplished it by transferring their own thoughts into Gen's mind. At the opposite end of the cable, wires were connected to the tips of the CPCs. The CPCs had derived this complex network—a trenchant procedure for communication—by themselves.

Gen fully applied himself to learning. On the first day, Black, sensing Gen's ardour to learn, crammed so much information into his brain that he felt it overflowed, drooling out of his mouth. Communicating through wires was better than attending school, though.

Black told him the LUD’s history and other relevant matters. The LUD had been naturally formed. The founders of the LUD had named themselves “CPCs.” Before their kin had found this new home, they used to be dispersed around arbitrarily like most other creatures. When they discovered the LUD, they modified it until it resembled a maze. After many other CPCs arrived, they amalgamated into a colony. This unified and strengthened them, but some CPCs had greater power and control than others. Eventually, Black became much more puissant than yellow, thus dominating the civilization.

As the years progressed, no one died. The CPCs thus became wiser and more potent until they soon possessed the most puissance in the universe. The civilization has existed for over one million years, but keeping track of the time is too tedious now.

The CPCs inscribed records onto rocks as the decades passed. Every year, more rocks contained data. They piled up sky high in a special chamber, where the temperature was appropriate for them. The rocks would consequently not melt, while the characters would not become blatant and fade. This, in many respects, resembled the drags’ method, but occupied far less space.

Gen learned that much information—plus many other details—in one day. Black had chosen only these preliminary concepts to convey to Gen for the first day.

While Black bred Gen, Azure, acting as a proxy for Black, operated the LUD. White and Black’s assistants aided Azure. If Black, Azure, and White were engrossed, however, no one else knew how to manage the dominion. The lack of leadership was really disconsolate because it impaled a perforation in the mighty civilization.

White volunteered to mend the rift by disciplining a coterie of CPCs. Black thus allowed White to select some CPCs to imitate Gen’s activities. For ten consecutive days, White unleashed one CPC to trail Gen’s paw-steps. This slightly distracted Gen, but his will to learn transcended his desires to indulge and watch others.

Each day, Gen alternated sequentially among the right, centre, and left chambers. Each time he returned to the same chamber, he sat in a different seat. The right chamber concentrated on knowledge; the centre one gave advice; and the left one demonstrated and asked Gen to perform. Each alternation was a smooth, diurnal transition like in a book, where one paragraph flowed gracefully to the next, though each paragraph exploited different themes.

On the average, Gen only lay dormant for two days per month. It was improper for a drag to sleep that little, but it had no adverse repercussions on Gen. He also consumed infrequently. Nevertheless, the CPC drinks he imbibed contained plentiful vitamins, which were salubrious for a drag his age.

Gen’s anxiety inched him along, but he felt that Black bated his progress, merely giving him a scanty amount of information. His condition resembled taking drugs: the more he learned, the more he wanted to know. In addition, Black announced the facts and figures in such an interesting way that Gen zealously awaited each subsequent word Black would reveal.

During the time Black edified, Gen learned more than he had bargained. Yet, he was dogmatic no one was ever satiated with what they had. One would perpetually believe that creatures better than oneself would exist. One of Black’s objectives, therefore, was to guide Gen to disbelieve that credence. In a way, this pedagogy paralleled a science experiment, where Black informed the “scientists”—Gen and the other CPCs—and the scientists conjured hypotheses.

At the beginning of each break, Gen would feel dazed with Black’s comments. Sleep, however, always rejuvenated him. After sleeping, he would prepare and almost forthwith begin his mental workout.

Gen worked painstakingly, but his face showed his frailness. The more he thought, the wiser and, ironically, weaker he became. Recalling Al, however, always motivated him.

Gen had aged physically, but inside, he was no older than when he had arrived. Black, too, witnessed the transformations as Gen matured; he tried his best to help Gen adjust to his own changes.

Finally, Gen could endure no further. One day, he fainted in the midst of a learning session. Fortunately, he regained consciousness an hour later. So, the answer was to rest more often. Gen had learned another valuable lesson.

Another month passed until he consummated training. Ascribed to his minor ailment, his completion had been demurred, but he was now in an impeccable vantage to confront anything.

The breadth of Gen’s knowledge now had expanded. In addition, he was brawnier, and his fire magnitude was almost commensurate with a CPC ray. His faculty had reached the culmination in his life.

Black felt worthy. He did not want Gen to repay him, but did want Gen to practice beneficence in society. Gen felt eternally indebted to the CPCs because they had re-established his waned character and had metamorphosed him into a wiser drag.

Gen noticed that the heat gradually crescendoed. He refrained from asking why, but thought this was anomalous. When he had first arrived at the LUD, he had trembled. It had been comparable to a sudden change in seasons—from summer to winter.

The CPCs ignored the heat, though. Perhaps this fervent ambience beset them regularly.

Another crux invoking Gen’s suspicion was that after he had finished training, few had paid much attention to him. Everyone except him busily engaged in some matter. Black had simply given a nod of approval to Gen upon finishing.

Gen decided to ask his best comrade—Carnation Pink3. Gen had abbreviated his name to Pink3. He searched for Pink3 in all the niches of which he knew, but could not find him. After numerous searches, he finally spotted him in the left chamber.

Pink3 was cleaning the chairs when Gen entered. “Hello,” said Pink3, slightly subdued. He was astonished to see Gen.

“Hi! How’s it going, Pink3? I’ve finished my training for about two days. I can’t linger on any longer at the LUD. I’ll tell the others once I meet them.”

“Sure. You do that,” answered Pink3 as he stopped his chore and jerked awkwardly toward Gen.

“By the way, where are they? Haven’t seen many of them lately. Haven’t seen anyone lately.”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this now, but I might as well. Black’s convoked a general assembly for tomorrow. We’d all like you to stay for it. Everyone else is preparing for it.”

“What’re we discussing, anyways? What’s the big topic?”

“We’re Black’s closest servants, and even we don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know.”

“Let me hang around while you clean the chairs,” Gen said sullenly.

“Sure.”

Gen watched as Pink3 scrubbed the chairs with soap. The virulent bacteria would not be on the chairs for an interval, but would still exist elsewhere. One day, they would likely return to the chair. At that point, more of them might be present, and the whole cycle would repeat.

Gen broke the reign of silence and asked, “Where’s the assembly going to take place?”

“In the Main Chamber, of course. It’s the only place that can fit everyone.”

Gen, ashamed of his ignorance, hid it by asking another question. “When’s it going to start?”

“Well, after lunch, I suppose. I’ll show you what we do.”

Pink3 explained to Gen the procedures of a gathering. Everybody sat on a chair, and Black forbid anyone except himself to talk. Everyone else listened and jotted down notes. A monologue characterized this assembly, which contrasted a debate, or even a meeting, where discussion is open to almost anyone. It more resembled someone delivering a formal speech.

When Pink3 had finished, he tucked Gen into bed and then went to bed himself. The assembly was exigent, so Pink3, too, required time to rest in order to prevent himself from drowsing off in the middle of the assembly. Thus, his objective for now was to fall asleep.

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