Time flies like a dragon fly in the sky.  It launches itself wholeheartedly from the peak of a mountain and continues its solemn journey onwards. To and fro the winds blow it on its trail, caressing its inner inhibitions… until it crashes wretchedly onto the ground, in a heap of rubble and a massive cesspit of spunk.  

 

That is the true nature of the world… and no other sacred texts tell you otherwise.  There is no hope in solitude in this world, no desperate last sword to penetrate the earth.  The destitute beacons shouted out their last cry long ago… and that was back when Jeeves had two women on both sides.  But riddles, clues and mischievousness have delightfully lit up the road in front of us, destitute may it be, but nonetheless like a forest fire shining far up into the atmosphere and beyond.  

 

So take it!  Take it Jeeves!  Take what has been solemnly owed to you like a pint of beer engulfing a withered soul!  It wasn’t long ago that you would serenade me across the beer garden, dribbling trinkets left and right… north and south… in the forefront of my dreams, swept away as you led me into a coma of self-degradation.  No.  For you was a fanciful robin’s nest, an austere leaf, an atmospheric gust of wind, that battered down the roof of our garden like Zeus with all the infinite knowledge you claimed.  

 

But for tomorrow - for tomorow’s cries and defamation - a more intricate levelling of my withered thesaurus calls itself to cry.  Long ago, as I traversed through the tall, grand walls of one of Henry VIII’s former estates, the toxic smell pervaded my gasp as I looked at the fettered alcohol being served at the pub across the road.  It smelt of jealously, interference and belittling like they were a mythical “Wendy” sent only to back-seat drive and pour drivel across an already benighted enquiry.  

​

But to cut across the playing field of Rome?  To sever the links of the brethren?  Why that would be a debacle no less than Disney’s war hero, Mulan.  What I rather believe is appropriate is a competition, akin to the Ancient Greek “Lenea”, but most reminiscent of a golfing tournament in which each hands in their scorecard.  The best destination, it seems, is none other than North Western Mongolia, on the plains on the east side of Lake Khovsgol, accompanied with an army reference as such as a necessity.  

 

It is a place where you can unravel the mysteries of your libido, a place where you can surmount the sexuality of your gender and a place where you can anoint yourself with only the finest, tranquil mineral water shooting down from a mountain stream and smear it across your sweaty and wearied brow.   There are those that are experienced in the occult, others who cling to warmth like customs expected by all of us, and those who are ready to gallop head-long across a plain.  

 

My task is to excite you, to ameliorate your knowledge and warm your sentiments.  So.  If you’d only hear me out, I would like to you along on board this jocose journey and devote my time to appeasing your soul with some merry whispers.   

 

 

 

*********  

 

 

The tall walls of the compound climbed fiercely against the dark night sky.  The landscape was awash with light pollution, with disparate hologram projections subventing any visible image.  Beneath the square skyscraper of Universe X, neon lights lit up the slim streets that were awash with party-goers and revellers. A beckoning noise boomed out across the passageways.  Fierce and exploitative merchants groped and sullied onlookers towards their many gifts, most commonly either food or electronic gizmos.  Carnival was in town.  And its wildness and furore was pulsating through the centre of Zenith like a ravenous pack of tigers.   

 

However, roughly five hundred metres up into the sky, Richardo was deliberating and mulling over his many concerns.  He was one of the chief architects overseeing the creation of army bases across Universe 7.  You see, (yes, yes, I’ll join you… but I don’t have any concerns for anyone else - come on, you have been chosen for your kindness and like of others), yes, yes, get over this idea of the police - we have office workers (first and foremost) and computerised systems, yes, yes that would remind you of Tesla, that do policing via scanning, databases (ooh, I’m Will) and highly sensitive electronic devices.  What I want you to talk about is the professionalism of your Martian stories, but covering Earth instead.  Now regroup and come back to me soon.)

 

Yes, yes, you are there and firstly I would like to say the decision has been made to free you conclusively and the story is not an essential, more rather for you to smooth your proverbial juices, which is a sort of game, I guess.  Now, firstly, considering the material, I would like to stress each city is different and each planet is different so the whole scope of your investigation into our nebulas is varied.  That said, the most profitable and esteemed network of streets you can find usually have tall skyscrapers and lots of ground-level hives of market dealers.  The streets are indeed (despite the design of Lomé in Togo, which will benefit your planet in its time) an intricate maze, commonly very narrow.  You will see that most planets are slightly warmer than yours so it is like a holiday resort to many’s and your lacklustre life.  

 

There, roughly thirty stories up in the sky, Ricardo was stood gasping over the hologram map. The room was large and dimly lit that ensured the hologram map glared virulently across the peaceful room.  He was consumed in deep tranquility.  He held his arms across the barrier to the map that seemed like a Earthian zoo of electric light.  His eyes traced diligently across the map as the video played onwards.  Staring and gasping in sincere wonder of the army’s itinerary, he was almost breathless in accordance with his die-hard diligence.  A stringent focus consumed his brain and as he analysed each little corner stone to perfection.  

 

To him, he possessed an austere studiousness that was commended by a long and difficult list of past accomplishments. At roughly the age of 1,000 now, he had at first worked in the civil service, computerised technologies and had now moved to observations and civil maintenance.  He was very wise when it came to computerised surveillance and wore an astute three-piece suit similar to what Elon Musk likes to show off, and preferred to work in dimly lit rooms where the hologram maps could most professionally show themselves off.  They were all roughly that age, and their principal task was designing the surveillance systems across Cluster B of Universe 7.  There was lots of detailed planning that involved 3D animation to ensure every scope of the operations was covered. 

 

Let me jump in account for how this kind of service and generally civil surveillance is carried out.  Yes, yes, you are just about right.  The fundamental core is the army bases on the far sides of the universes - which would cause an enormous bang to reach, but, yes, there are command posts all across the planets and universe sub-stations where civil actions are tracked and appropriate task forces are sent to aid in difficult circumstances.  

 

As would seem clear to anyone entering the room, Richardo was Chief Operating Officer of the relatively small overseeing company for Cluster B Security that was called Tritech 13, by which I mean it was a government-owned enterprise.  To him, his daily tasks revolved around imbedding new information and scaling the data into the size of the hologram map.  Precisely, it spanned all of Cluster B, in the Northbrook galaxy.  The hologram map was very detailed, and could swiftly illustrate the city scape with an image, zoom in through the billions of surveillance cameras and trace individuals all across the universe.   

 

His management stretched to providing information to the Police Services aka Army regarding insurrections or other disturbances.  The local agents were at the end of the line ready to launch off in space wagons and deal with the incidents. Where his skills primarily lied were combining the surveillance cameras with the hologram map coupled with an astute nouse into using all of the technology available to scan.  As such, he could dive in or change the angle to locate disparate and diverse disturbances like a terrorising hawk.  

 

To him, control was always paramount.  He relied on his astute concentration, controlling the map via silver electronic gloves and circling in on the delinquents viciously.  The map appeared to him like a navigating space wagon, swishing emphatically from side as he tried to control all the data.  To him, it was destiny unfolded.  To him, it was laughter embedded up as work. 

 

However, no sooner could that thought be envisaged than two Army agents dive through the door behind him.  They dived and traversed across the room idyllically, like the destined eagles of the sky they were.  One was aptly called Jeeves and the other surreptitiously labelled himself as Frank.  They were the arms of the battalions, the messengers of the itineraries, the lifeblood of security across the north district of Zenit.  Sworn in army veterans such as these were, I’m afraid to say, highly aggressive, similar to the sort you have encountered as bouncers in nigthclubs, but, heck?  What are they there for other than protecting those smaller out there?  Yes… be it women or trottering dingle beads half the size of others?  

 

Frank drew a form of sports / energy drink, denoted in a name as Leopard, that equally fuelled his body and mind in equal measures… well maybe more his body in any case… but heck at the height of 7”8 he was the trudging monolith able to overcome any incident.  Frank drew a long slurp, while Jeeves took a deep puff of Starlight cigarettes… yes… one of those ones that took the energy from the mind and imbedded it in his muscular arms.  Frank approaching on the right side of the map, spat out some of the viciously strong liquid and called over to his commanding officer, Richardo.   

 

“What’s occurring, eh Chief?”  He mumbled.  “Jeeves and I have stumbled up to command headquarters.  David downstairs was muttering profanities as soon as the crowds of delinquents came in from the carnival.”  You are indeed right and occasions such as these, when long-held festivals are held, call it RedRum Sensations, implicate many who get involved in delinquency, most commonly theft, assault and illicit drug trading.    

 

That is indeed an occasion when Richardo’ skills were most required.  He could load up a 3D map of the urban expanse… zooming in via the surveillance cameras and swoosh viciously through the differing images with his silver gloves that enlivened him with mechanisms such as vibration.  That is indeed the practiced custom and these people are just like that film “Minority Report”, with I’d like to add with some foresight (that could come from the brain monitoring far far away), but, not an exact prediction.    

 

Richardo flicked a switch on the hologram map.  The ecstatic and bright images switched to a surveillance camera glaring down at revellers as they passed down the street. “Echo… 123,” he murmured in into a mouthpiece.  “Northbrook 123… sully 123!” 

 

Immediately, an astute female secretary strolled towards the two agents as they stood there.  “Good thing we have you both here!”  She uttered at last.  She then murmured some words down her mouthpiece.  “Echo 123, we hear you!”  She then turned and glared at both of the agents.  “Monster, Agent 11 and 12,” she cried austerely.  “We seem to be having a disturbance on Highrise Road.  I’m loading the system on your GPS armbands.”  She then ushered the both of them towards the door.  “Proceed swiftly to the premises and secure the location!”   

 

With that both agents gave the secretary a studious nod and prepared themselves for action.  They were onwards on their journey.

​

​

​

*********

​

 

Sweeping across the cityscape in their space wagons was like two eagles launching into the night sky.  The controls of all of our systems are highly adaptable and commended to human skills, such as the unique adrenaline rush of many.  Yet, where Earthians have invented airbags for crashes, the space wagons – imagine a rectangular edifice, akin to a car – have been developed with an earth-shattering air suspension system.  They reverberate and caresses themselves across the earth with the electric rush of bumper cars yet flying in the air.  

 

Jeeves was astute, serious.  Frank was a whispering centre piece of all their aggressive sincerity.  It was him who goaded the conversation, isolating the delinquents he sought to apprehend… and was prepared to as such.  He spat at their courtyard, whispered at their theft and joined in at the carnival, not for the convivial revelry, but as a spy to take people down.  And so he spat his words as Jeeves flew the space wagon across the city. 

 

And this, my friends, is how it works.  You see they do in fact take space wagons out on patrol.  But rather than park said vehicle, one of the studious accomplices remains in the vehicle while the other or two other take a jet pack down to the incident on the surface level. This was the standard procedure and much of our security is operated in that manner. 

 

Following, therefore, this Rolex books of rules, Frank sat back in the front seat of the space wagon as Jeeves checked his iron man suit before leaping down towards the ground in front of him.  The space wagon was a good 100 metres up in the air.  He was falling down towards the ground, falling towards his fate.  Sensitizing his left arm, the iron man suit burst into action and so did the sensitive controls.  He could now control it like a horse, control it like effervescent bicycle.  

 

The dimly lit street around him appeared like a trapped door, wretchedly pervading his psyche.  He was roughly two blocks away from Highrise street, sporting a helmet that could do nothing against a bullet by these days, but could prevent against an electric shock which was commonly utilized.  The iron man suit was something more for star cruisers, rather they are dressed in similar attire to the UK’s army – helmet and breast-plate. 

 

He crept surreptitiously along the back alleys either side of the carnival procession.  Two meters became three as he darted through the opaque alleyways. Breathing raised… but not the palace of his mind, nor his astute studiousness, at last he appeared on Highrise road.  

 

And thereupon he found himself in the tumult of Subura.  It was the tumult of a frenzy, lit up ectastically by the hologram lights.  Most people were dressed in a leopard print shirt or dress, befitting one of your shirts, I may add, worn long ago.  It was the “Carnival des Animaux” represented by each individual smooching their bodies with synthetic aromas and appearances.  They cared little for the toils of an office job, nor working back in the countryside.  They were sexualised revellers enjoying in the synesthesia.    

 

Yet one of the street stalls had become swarmed with an argument between people waiting in the queue.  Initially, one highly inebriated individual had pestered the merchant into giving him a cheaper price.  He had complained that fortune had caused him to be born from a natural womb, yet his biological parents had aloped long ago and he was forced into penury and destitution.   

 

The aged old merchant had little interest in his protesting and demanded that he stop blocking other people from queuing and buying things from his stall.  This, unfortunately, was not carried out and, before long, an argument broke out amongst others queuing who tried to move him out of the way, while uttering all forms of curses.   

 

And that, my friends, is enough for Zenit surveillance to track the incident using surveillance cameras, indeed microphones as well and electronic tracking using payment devices and finally, yes finally, the atom tracker on the far side of the Universe.   It is then all used to gather a grand picture of activity that was blazoned onto a hologram platform that Richardo was so often accustomed to utilise.  The database, which was the central Universe Census enabled him to track the record of any delinquent with a previous record - not only when he thought it was necessary - but the computer system would also flag when someone with a past record appeared in the zone they were analysing.   

 

Jeeves manifested himself in the arena right there and then.  He dived into the precipice like the holy saviour he was. Whilst the shop keeper viciously waved his arms, the inebriated individual shoved all those around him.  Shouting loudly, Jeeves ushered the members of the queue to the side and appeared before the unruly gentleman.  “I’m sorry,”  Jeeves uttered at last.  “But you cannot buy an item from the stall without the money to pay for it.”  

 

The man turned around and spat his words viciously.  “You want to take a pry into my life!”  He stammered angrily.  “And I’ll tell you what it’s like to live with no money and no family!”  He paced towards the agent aggressively.  “As if you know what it’s like to live as a pure vagabond… destitute forever amongst a nation filed with gold!”  

 

As Jeeves intended to interject amongst the shouting, the man interrupted further. “Hey soldier,” he cried viciously.  “What is it that you do!  What warms your toggles late at night… while you give yourself a pat on the back for doing your police work?”  He turned and spat back towards the crowd.  “It certainly ain’t your appreciation for the lowest in this civilisation.”  He turned around and sneered at Jeeves.  “You’d be nothing without your fancy degree from Zenit University.  Adorned in the cloth you are… soaked in your self-esteem like a far-gone pterodactyl in a zoo.”  

 

“I’m here to serve the public,” denounced Jeeves adamantly in reply.  “It is a common creed… a common aim for a better world!”  He raised his baton into the air and continued preaching to the delinquent.  “We are all living here amongst one and another… and no one can break the law!” 

 

“You know where I met a man like you” professed the man, while sizing up the agent viciously in his guise.  “Back 20 years ago, when I had a job.  That was,” he continued.  “Not destitute and impoverished on this sordid planet... nor surrounded by elitist fools… but on Mars!”  He stared at the agent viciously.  “There they had a code… there they had a better respect of humanity!”  

 

“I hope you have the appropriate paperwork for the Census figures regarding Earthian migration!”  Stumbled Jeeves defensively as he seemed struck by the vagabond.  

 

“Here,” lunged the vagabond on the offensive.  “If you’re so concerned with helping people, why not emigrate to Mars.  Those benighted realms are impoverished by Earth.”  She tuned and gazed around him.  “Yes.  By those on Earth who fail to track the immigration system and leave those Mars subvented and turned on its side as a consequence!”  

 

“I’m not here to discuss other planets,” denounced Jeeves.   

 

The vagabond paced even further to stress his point.  “Freedom, liberty and equality… all come from a planet at the height of modernity.”  He began to look at Jeeves almost earnestly.  “That is where you will find your salvation for Cluster B!  That is where you will find the true meaning of life!”

​

Jeeves seemed struck by the somewhat quasi-emphatic mumblings of the vagabond.  Traversing across the skies, readying the paperwork, such profound wisdom felt untoward his daily routine.  Nonetheless, he apprehended the individual and arranged a rendezvous with Frank through his arm device.  Leading the delinquent to a level open space, eventually they were transported to a police department several kilometres away where the details of the incident would be handled.  

 

 

 

*********

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​

Two weeks had passed nonchalantly in the abyss.  During this time a lot of Earthians generally in this age do things like playing golf, eating tapas food and most of all to people like you attending museums and getting involved with exhibition events - yes very tall, very grand insights into humanity, culture, intellectual thought and science.  They’re like motherfucking Charles Darwins fuelling their intellectual aspirations with monumental exhibition infrastructure.  Anything else?  Well there is something in the form of canvas retreats in the park… but you will move onto that!  You will move onto that!  You fool - yes, yes, why not say it now??  Many billions of people recline on the sun loungers in the park accompanied with canvases delicately reading paper books and indulging in things like an Earthian Frisbee game.  

 

But, heck, to continue on with the text!  Yes.  It seems Jeeves was evolving both in the character of his mind and newfound expectations.  He conjured up new thoughts and new arguments like a wizard.  Sure, it was always accompanied with a beer, and a strong inebriation at that, but he was traversing along the yellow brick road gleamingly with perfection.  To the lofty of you out there… who guard the gateway to the Muses with ardent passion, the passion that he felt equated to his soul was calling him to expand his mind and broach new academic ideas.  Sure, as a cop, work was always at hand - but he found himself one day in the city library (which is very common) shifting through books offering a more idealistic envisaging of the world.  

 

One day he sat down with Frank and began to profess what was on his mind.  The room was solemn and cold, and felt like an empty cafeteria.  Jeeves leaned over the table and professed that his career had become monotonous - an endless list of paperwork, he claimed, and a stifling struggle dealing with the same sort of people week in week out.  On the contrary, policing felt like to a soothing piece of charity work to Frank, and adamant in reply he denounced Jeeves’ worries as simple mid-life struggles.  In fact the conversation became a troubled drivel of Jeeves’ lamentations and Frank’s reassurances.  At last, Frank gave in and suggested that Jeeves go and visit the world renowned St. James’ Park and relax his mind to a certain degree.  They both departed the cafeteria irreverently, alas like the vibrant pleasant yacht needed reassurance at the helm.  But, at last, Jeeves picked up a space wagon and ventured nonchalantly towards the therapeutic attraction.   

 

Now, as we are all here gathered to surmise, and answer the question of their transportation, I would firstly like to say you simply park down next to Will Smith in iRobot - yes, even appearing beautifully as the London Aquatics centre or more commonly Lock Meadow centre in Maidstone - and your vehicle gets very sophisticatedly stored in a hanging bunch.  It is appropriately paid for by yourselves and you usually do need some form of identification, be it via a wrist watch or phone - it does need to be electronic. 

​

Jeeves flew down to a halt on one of the roughly 50 designated helipads before tapping his wristwatch, hearing the beeping of his identification being acknowledged, and observing the fee for the parking.  He then stepped out of the vehicle, which does need to be observed quite carefully, before a computerised hologram ensured all were safely out of the vehicle and sent the machine folding downwards into the underground storage.  He had a primitive rucksack with him, filled with a few assortments such as a paperback book, his phone and some pleasantries like his Bliss vape.   

 

And so he trudged onwards towards the park land at the edge of Zenit city.  These places are commonly filled with many pleasantries including cafés, restaurants, attractions such as go-karting, rollercoasters in some cases, withered zoos with archaic monuments as if they’re monolithic centre zones, jet pack rental stations and sports fields - yes, very important - and these were centred around sports such as badminton, cricket and tennis.  

Jeeves, alternatively, decided to head to an insulated compound that offered a restaurant and lots of canvas teepees in its precincts.  There he ordered himself a cold glass of Excelsus and reclined back in one of the canvas tents.   He pulled out his paperback book and began to delve into its mysteries.  It had been several pages through when one passage seemed particularly intriguing.  In black font, it appeared in the following words:  

 

“Ah, heck… to live free once again?  That is a choice that no saviour can bring!  But to live alive?  Well that is a choice that can be made by anyone!  Towers, trees and riches come to some.  But not averse to those at the front!  Ask yourselves how you fly… ask yourselves how you breathe?  And that will direct you to how you feel.  No one is free, yet all those who emancipate themselves!”  

 

Yet, immediately having read these words, a young boy kicked a football towards Jeeves’ teepee.  The young boy apologised and went over to pick up the football beside Jeeves’ picnic rug.  Seeing the constable put down his book and beer and sit up straight, he began to utter some words in apology.  “Idle picnic benches won’t see you winning the gold medal in sports fixtures,” he cried at last.  “My father takes us to the park every Sunday and we work on our football skills on the artificial fields.”  Seeing Jeeves stare at him with a bemused wonder, he continued his spiel.  “Our team came second in last years’ tournament,” he continued proudly.  “But it wasn’t for one stray individual who cost us in the final game.”  He then looked behind him and down at the football he was holding. “Say… I hope we’re not playing a team like you… young and muscular as you are!”   

 

Jeeves sat up straight and tried to intrude into the young boy’s ramblings.  “Football is not something a man like me gets involved in!”  He cried at last.  “Say,” he continued.  “Shouldn’t you be in school at the moment?”  

 

“Old Jim fakes the paperwork and takes us out to train,” rebutted fiercely.  “He’s always keen for a game of rugger!”  

 

“Well that is something I’m afraid I cannot abide by!”  Denounced Jeeves fiercely.  

 

“Well suit yourself!”  Cried the young boy, before he turned around and ran off into the far distance.   

 

Jeeves lay back down on his picnic rug in the teepee.  Pesky young kids, he thought to himself.  But it struck a note that would reach far wider in his mind.  Why is no one abiding by the rules in a planet like this?  He thought to himself.  Why had vanity and self-obsession prevented anyone abiding by the proper mode of conduct?  Why did the laziness of others pervert the simple lives of others across this cluster of solar systems?

​

He immediately put his book down and ventured away from the restaurant compound. He paced onwards, stifled by his own imagination.  He flew like the nonchalant breeze around him.  Winding pillars of infinity, circling up proudly into an endless bean stalk, stood up tall at the sheer wonder of him.  A traversing cow, rich beyond measure, sent gifts of eternity, struck down the like the pillars of infinity.  Soothing his strength across his brow, he towered into newfound territory, he towered into the abyss.  

​

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*********

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​

Jeeves was a tall and rugged individual who could take most things he encountered in his stride.  He had a burning passion to serve his city and a tall appetite help others. Naturally, I’m afraid to say, he had been born through a mechanical womb, and idealised for his sheer weight and muscle that would leave shockwaves running through the army barracks.  The colossus that he was refrained from going to pick up his space wagon from the parking.  Instead, he went further along the parkland, further to investigate the ideals of these lands.  

 

Sensitised daisies lit up his soul.  Dusty air particles swarmed his mind.  Crystal clear skies gave him his ambition.  He strolled solemnly across the park land until he came to what seemed to be a small cliff above a hilltop that had a small five metre drop beside it. There, perching across the sandy ground, around fifty men and women were basking in the sun, all completely naked.  

 

Fettering with his own sensibilities, he gave a brief shout out towards the naked congregation.  “Toodle do!”  were the common cries in reply or “what a spiffing afternoon we find ourselves here!” on other occasions. The dirty blast of sand came instantaneously across his brow.  The beating sun across his neck dowsed him with a fever.  Ready made trotters that he called his feet nestled afraid on the dusty sand. “I’ll be on my way,” he cried timidly.  “I leave you all in peace,” he cried at last again.   

 

What feverish temptations pervert the mind, he though to himself.  What lacklustre bottle of a car leads all these folk into this kind of madness?  Where were the ready-made grenades to loosen their bravado? And sully them into a congregation with any prevailing contingency?   

 

He threw his rucksack to the ground heavily and picked out his hologram phone to start scanning a map.  Fettering holes of beetle dung!  Fettering holes of beetle dung!  Yet - much to his delight - the hologram phone informed him that there was an exhibition on space exploration the other side of the park, roughly two hundred metres away. 

​

The louche vagabond that he was becoming himself trudged along the pathway that bordered the parkland in search of this destined attraction.  There are indeed many attractions for young children at places like this, such as, I’m pleased to say, playgrounds (involving swings and sandpits and the like) where young kids jumped around entertaining themselves under the strict auspices of their family members (I’d like to stress.. here on Earth, about a third of the children are born from machine wombs.  And that are those who have been carefully selected by mothers and fathers rather than human intercourse.)

 

The poor man, who was rather hoping for an end to the day to come aka expressing a form of authorial onslaught, finally made it to the exhibition centre, which was demonstrably called “Space Exploration X”.  Indeed, we need to here jump from imagining a playground, to envisaging some big statues (reasonably popular in the confederation), fake trees or other artworks that sheltered the entranceway which would have seemed like the entranceway to Thorpe Park.  And so the dutiful and diligent vagabond paid the reasonably cheap entrance fee and passed through the metal gate just like Earthians now and in the future.  

​

Inside was awash with hologram lights and immersive educational artworks.  Each filled a cavernous enclave, be it a room, cave or luminescent holograms at the front of an audience.  Jeeves was shellshocked to the core.  The reverberating drums and melodic techno pounded through the speakers and crowd.  Next came a deluge of literary figures, accompanied by their body of works.  Then came a huge hologram display of the history of Zenit and its creation.  Finally, Jeeves turned to the left and headed up a paved hill to where he could see the latest artistic creations blazoned across the space in a holographic image.

​

At last he made it to the bit on space exploration.  Entering into a confine, the convex, tall roof sheltered a huge 3D hologram stage that illustrated the development of space exploration.  Shuddering through the ages, it detailed the first “whale” cruisers to arrive on the primordial Earth and the task to transport the water across the cosmos.  The planet they were officially on was made up of much more iron sediments and other forms of rock than our planet, yet it was capable to create a turquoise atmosphere, which was, indeed, (I promise you) carried on every Earth-like planet.  To account for the dust?  Shut up Julius!  Shut up Julius!  But what I will say is look at the granite of say Scotland, which remains sturdy and, by adding more iron-molecules, that is what we achieve.  Yes… I’ll do the whole Earthian economy later!  

 

It had been several minutes of Jeeves pondering and staring in awe at the dazzling lights of the hologram and the storyboard unravelling, when a tour guard approached him solemnly.  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it!”  The tour guide murmured gently.  “All the great achievements of our ancestors are laid before us!”  She turned to her right as they both reflected.  “All those great task such as the transportation of the water took every monumental effort from people across this cosmos.”  She seemed to ponder to herself. “It’s fascinating how great feats are reached from different people all through the different ages of humankind!”  She perked up and smirked to herself.  “I want to be a crew member right now, barking orders into the mouthpiece!”  

 

“I knew a man once who became an astronaut.”  Mumbled Jeeves in reply.  “But he went off and that was the last I ever saw of him.”  

 

“Why don’t you do it??”  Interjected the tour guide fervently.  “You could move to Mars and jet off on one of the great cruisers!”  

 

“I don’t know about that,” stumbled Jeeves in reply.  

 

“Well how’s about this?” Murmured the tour guide.  “No one ever knows until they take the big step and jump into the unknown!”  She glanced back at the hologram screen before glancing at her watch.  “You should do it,” she uttered at last.  “If only for the chance to dream!”

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Meanwhile, Frank had gone off in search of a new strand of army intelligence involving the iconic industrial parks and factories of their futuristic civilisation.   To answer the question over how the great economy of Earth is designed, I would say this: fucking, fucking clever with Stealth X ensuring the design of all the space wagons, mobile phones and hologram computers - well that one is actually created by Obelisk.  They tower high in enormous skyscrapers with very wide buildings tasking millions to work on their products using all the technologies, be it robots, holograms - you name it!  

 

Let’s group this if I may.  We know the power comes from Nucleur fusion reactors - yes precisely so.  We know most of the enormous space ships are created on Mars - yep, but some of the design naturally takes place on Earth.  There must also be a place for manufacturing space wagons - yes… enormous warehouses where in fact there is not much robotics, just an assembly line.  The power is fed through using enormous metal cables - it is not possible to transfer electricity without it.  And then there is the offices? Yes, you will find that consumer servers, interfaces and the like take up of a lot of the workload.  Alongside this… there is quite a large selection of electronic goods that I’m afraid you do not know about, whose offices are grouped in cities, dealing with complaints etc. These are combined with a similar outlook of consultancy, auditing and legal services - yes they like offices and they do take up a considerable amount of downtown space. Anything else?  Yes… that is the green flag that due to your absence we do recommend you fight to save zowcha.com and unveil the site to the public in 9 years time!  Peace out! Peace out!

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Yes, but because we enjoy your behaviour so much, I would like to come to a cataclyding halt and surprise you with the information that you will indeed be liberated at the turn of the hour of August 1st.  However, those keenly observing will be eager to hear I’m gonna drop one last manifestation on the question of concerts and festivals.  And here I take the pedestal to announce the answer: widespread, widespread, widespread like a congregation of penguins all across the world.  Well, the simple fact is they reach numbers of 100,000 and scorch across the granite and iron escarpments and undulating hills. There they give a shit about the Earthians, there they give a thought for the rewards of humanity.  Yes, yes - it is electrified… it is like supercharged rockets.  

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The music is a mixture of drum ’n’ bass, yes, which the crowd generally loves, and offset techno, which accompanies the performers on the stage - yes, you will find that it is all quite atmospheric and moody, but anyone can appreciate anything.  There is one more thing I would like to add in the form of people’s camper vans can be allowed to attend, so it is a mixture of a Halfords’ campers trip and adrenaline junky’s music rush.  They are perceived more as winter Atlantic surfing trips, everyone being generally dynamic and mature, rather than the pressure that can impact on today’s Glastonbury or the like.  The last thing I would like to add is that you are shit at music… and all music should be worshipped accordingly.  

 

But that is enough of music festivals.  At last, Jeeves and Frank were congregating at the same time at Richardo’s army compound.  Both of them driving their individual space wagons, they hovered down to a halt on the 30 helipads there were on the top of the government building.  Disembarking amongst the dark night sky, each shoved their arm band against the scanner beside the vehicle, trudging out in a long, dark leather coat that was the standard norm for army officers such as them on patrol.  Lastly, they casually watched the vehicle being folded underneath and placed in the tightly packed storage.  

 

Jeeves, our man on the ground, had the most on his mind.  He, in fact, was gonna inform Richardo of his resignation.  He wanted to broach new horizons and clear his mind.  He wanted to feel the spirits of freedom shine down on him… as if infinity was finally showing him direction.  He danced and gleamed down the stairway like a pack of dogs. He resumed with a wide smile, office-like, and waiting to meet his match in the conversation with Richardo.   

 

There, he burst into the room as Richardo was stood solemnly in front of the hologram map.  Richardo immediately turned his back and glared at Jeeves intriguingly.  “What is it you’ve come to request from me, young sir,” he announced calmly at last.   “I don’t keep time in my day to manage the concerns of others.  Particularly,” he continued.  “When they are low ranking army officers such as yourself!”

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“It is time I found a new bastion.  It is time I found a new honour!”  Cried Jeeves fervently in reply. 

 

“Don’t think frittering away will save your soul!”  Denounced Richardo.  “Everyone must fall into place… sooner rather than later!”  He turned around and peered at Jeeves solemnly. “It is like an endless jigsaw puzzle… never to be solved and never to be completed.”  He chuckled to himself and peered back across the hologram map.  “They’ll tell you fishing in a stream unblocks the soul if you keep listening to the tumult of the crowd.”  He glanced to the side and scowled.  “Filthy young scoundrels the lot of them!”  

 

“Yet can’t you see!”  Growled Jeeves fiercely in reply.  “Can’t you imagine the wonders of a planet where one works for a creed, where one works for the soul!”  

 

“You should keep that kind of talk to yourself,” denounced Richardo with a scoff.  He spat on the ground and strolled off the left side of the hologram map, before turning back and looking at Jeeves fiercely.  “And where are you taking these lofty ideas, I might ask?” 

 

Jeeves stepped forward proudly - proud like the precipice moment was now in front of him.  “That would be Mars, your honour,” he cried at last.  “I’m gonna move to Mars!”  

 

Richardo turned around and broke into laughter.  “As if that cesspit could take any more degradation!”  He chuckled sinisterly.  “It is a barren no-man’s land, a never-cut wasteland!”  He turned halfway back towards Jeeves with another sinister scowl across his face.  “But if you think the urban wasteland is somewhere to enjoy and cherish, you just about might as well move there like a mad cow!”  He paused and reflected to himself with an aged scowl.  “I’ve already fucked over that planet as much as possible!”  

 

“What??  What??”  Intruded Jeeves instantaneously.  “What is it that you’ve done to that planet?  

 

Richardo broke into a nefarious grimace akin to the torture he had inflicted on billions of others.  “I’ve change the census figures without anyone noticing.  All the army centres are informing Martians that Mars is overpopulated.” He turned around fiercely.  “They’re encouraging the public to emigrate from Mars to Earth as a result!  And do you know why?”  He struck further with a wretched scowl across his face.  “So Tritech 13 Army Centre gets more more money!  More money for me, more money for the station and together we will be rich!”  

 

“You definitely cannot change the Census figures!”  Denounced Jeeves adamantly in reply.  

 

“I’m afraid you can!”  Replied not Richardo nor Jeeves, but the legendary Frank, who strolled towards the centre of the room.  “You see we have all grouped together and created a conspiracy!  A conspiracy to get rich!”  He let out a lugubrious sigh before staring at Jeeves firmly in reply.  “And you’re either with us or against us!  That much is absolute!” 

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“This is absolute poppy-cock!” Decried Jeeves fiercely in reply.  He stared across at Frank and Richardo like two sinister jewels in a knife fight.  “I will report you to the authorities!”  He cried further.  “And neither of you will get away with it!” 

 

“Yeah…” denounced Frank.  “You and whose army?”  He then turned around and looked at the security behind him.  “Security… arrest this gentleman!”  

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Jeeves lunged forward like a leopard in the jungle.  He lunged forward like a lion in the Savannah.  He shook off the destiny of immortality and wrestled like a lofty prince of Sparta. He pervaded the crystal waters of Aphrodite right there.  He ignited the beacons of Alexandria. He doused the perfumes of Arabia across his brow.  He saved the lives of a billion and knew the aged scaffolding in the back of his heart.  Immediately he punched Frank to the ground and slid past him as they both tumbled to the floor.  

 

He raised himself to the ground and stared at the pair of them wretchedly.  At last he began to utter some words in their direction as they stood there covered in blood.  “You see I have a space wagon up on the hanger!”  He denounced forcefully.  “And should be able to reach Mars within a couple of days!”  He then looked at them like the destined legend of Hercules he was.  “And with one of those floppy disks containing all the genuine census figures, your sordid plan will come to an end!”    

 

And so he lunged over to the floppy disk beside the computer and slid it into his top pocket.  Grabbing one of the army’s iron man suits on the side of the room, he smashed open the window with a large bang.  Further and further he traversed into the sky, further and further he set forth the destiny of eternity.  Arriving on the hanger, he stripped the iron man suit off, before locking himself in the cockpit of one of the space wagons.   

 

And it was, like the pillars of Rome, like the bountiful nests of Babylon or the citadels of Greece, that he electrified the space wagon into action.   Trudging not only above Mount-Olympus or the troughs of Atlantis, he launched himself out their lands… out of their merry fucking stratosphere!  

 

Indeed, arriving on Mars three days later, he informed the authorities, who in turn informed the governance of all of Cluster B.  The census figures were regathered and the immigration problem solved accordingly.  That is the end of the tale and thank you for reading!  Goodbye!

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THE END