The Karmora Papers

Chapter Thirty-Four

CENTEPILOGUE

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Of course, questions always arose in the Teachomats about the Curious Carp, which had mysteriously regressed to simple-minded goldfish, good for little more than kar-refrontal gill-splitting contests on Venus. Here the frames were incongruously silent, for the Carp had an unusual, creative and quite preposterous investment.

"Pray to the Nuns," the machines would respond, "and an answer will be provided."

Malenka Furnahn had prayed for years, and was waiting still. He commanded up the Kinevue.

"...effected by Galactic Guerrillas in the Plutonian Kingdom. While we wait for the special report, a message from MultiSell Unlimited."

"Now, a once-in-a-licetime chanfe to own your very own Luigi Brothers Cosmobile! Not a replica, not an edible imitation, but a real-time, non-diffusible, fully empathic personal transpo-vehicle! Paroofa, Plooba and Kitty invite you to telekine down to Honest Marvin’s Intergalactic Showroom, where you’ll be treated to fine winds, tasty proteans, and a reverse-nasal spin in the new Luigi Brothers Cosmobile. The price is out of sight, out of mind, so you can’t go wrong! Just in time for the Historic Onslaught Centennial, this black and blue Cosmobile will be the rage of your beforner-siph. Magnetic Nuns love it! Luigi bets his knees that you will too! Free set of various organs with every test drive. Prices slightly higher on Boondock. Warranty information available in Time-Floss 14. See you there! Luigi lives for you!"

Yes, truly the galaxy was in a dither over the anniversary, and even Gala-Federation President Kiborde pa-Karmora had turned away from the usual daily routine of fried mu-messages and scrambled zords to join in the plastic nasality. During his Telefraud Message of last month, President pa-Karmora had urged even such distant cosmic relatoids as the Terran Exile Community to spend some moments in fond, rubbery-teared remembrance of an earlier, less complex time in the stars.

But nevertheless, he warned, care would have to be taken to avoid such near calamities as the Boondock Invasion led by the ingrate Stellatraitors Melin and Forsander Karmora, his own degenerately vicious far-cousins, loathsome neg-models for sibling coconsciousness.

"But for the strength and foreskin of our Revered Elder Lassie," Kiborde went on, "today we might well be living under the fanatical rule of the crazed Treflin Karmora, misguided former First-Order Emissary and self-aggrandizing revolutionary."

His warning was well-heeded, too, for citizen-led Semivigilant Watch Patrols sought to crush every remaining manufacturing center of the deadly Sensory Seven poisons and reserved Flossing modes.

(There is still dissention in Multicommand about this matter, however. The last and latest report from the Cosmosurgeon-Corporeal’s Office reveals that in spite of public disapproval, the vast majority of Sensory Seven users show no permanent ill effects. "Some level of misjudgment and time-compression symptoms are noted," the report suggests, "but tissue damage is not at this point in time empirically evident." The controversy, nevertheless, continues at this writing.)

The Gala-Federation President, moreover, had taken a personal hand in the Reevaluation Center’s Historical Review Commission activities, and Multicenter had promised separate volumes on the heroic exploits of the martyred Pflud Titwillow, her handmaster, Robert, and even a study of the villainous Orientalis-Pike, whose deceptive verbal banter and mysterious disappearance microseconds before the Mokus 5 holog-caust had provided a System-wide wokhunt.

To this day there is great question as to whether Pike had indeed been lost at some point within the Mokus 5 ano-shield defenses. Happily, this was the only disquieting moment for President pa-Karmora, as he sweetly and hazily prepared his Onslaught Day Address.