Septimity and The Blood Brotherhood: The Third Hilarious Glothic Tale (The Glothic Tales Book 3) (9 page)

Within a few seconds, members of the Gregorian Royal Family began being herded by the Lacertilian Guard towards the front of the hall.

‘My dear President, if you would be so kind as to assist the Lacertilian Guards in identifying those amongst us who are tainted with the Erdean gene,’ September said quietly into Krizzle’s ear, well away from the microphone. Krizzle nodded his agreement as six Lacertilian Guards approached from September’s right. September stood tall, and proud. Ichor had commenced.

Sep looked on and around the crowd as the Lacertilian Guards herded the poison that was the Erdean gene pool towards the front of the hall. Some wailing, others complaining loudly, while others scratched their backsides and ears. He noticed January, lying on the floor kicking and screaming as two guards tried to pacify her. April now a small bundle of Gregorian humanity curled into a ball and crying his eyes out. Sep watched on as the man, who had held and pacified April so assuredly just moments before, walked away, then turned and looked back in absolute disgust. Then he focused on September. Standing tall and proud, yet seemingly aging by the second. Sep realising that September had told him the truth. Once Ichor arrived, September could happily die. On Gloth.

With military precision, and the new High Commander Huphnic Grundlestick ordered

cooperation between the Lacertilian Guards and the Gregorian Guards, the Grand Hall was cleared of every body, creature or thing with dual or multiple arms and legs that possessed a single Erdean gene. Every member of the Gregorian Royal Family, High Councillors, delegates, friends of the Royal family, administrators and even the odd ambassador or two who scanned positive for the dreaded monkey gene, was herded out of the Grand Hall and onto shuttles headed for the Cosmic Cruiser waiting to repatriate them and their Erdean gene pool back to where they belonged. Erde.

During the herding, scanning, sorting and yelling of obscenities by the remnants of the Gregorian Royal Family as it protested the illegality of September’s coup d’état, September and Kaybob Krizzle discussed the best candidates for the post of interim Supreme Potentate.

‘It must be someone seen by all as completely neutral and removed from the political process,’ September insisted.

‘So that by necessity removes any member of the High Council,’ Krizzle replied.

‘I think that would be wise sir.’

‘And of course a pure Glothian.’

‘Obviously.’

‘With your agreement sir, I would propose High Commander Huphnic Grundlestick.’

‘Will your fellow councillors support your nomination?’

‘ I believe so.’

‘And more importantly, would High Commander Grundlestick accept?’

‘He is very highly regarded sir. And I have little doubt that he would refuse such a responsibility.’

‘Is that him?’ September asked, as he pointed to whom he had supposed was the High Commander having judged from his more elaborate than anybody else’s epaulets. Still clearly giving orders by way of his Q’muniktor from his position in the third row.

‘Yes sir. That’s High Commander Grundlestick.’

‘Very well. Ask him to join us. Is there an anteroom or such where we can we meet?’

‘Yes,’ Krizzle confirmed. ‘Just to our left from the rostrum.

‘Well, shall we get on with it?’ September said with an air of authority, trying to get things moving as quickly as possible as he could feel his body telling him something very important. He was dying.

Sep stayed standing at the rear of the hall, not quite sure what he was supposed to do next. This was one part of the grand Ichor plan that he hadn’t discussed with September. After a moment’s consideration, he decided that September seemed to be in control of the Supreme Potentate stuff, so he would focus on the repatriation of the Erdeans. With that clear thought in his mind he grabbed his Q’muniktor to contact Lieutenant Commander Smikkle for an update on his Erdean passengers aboard the Cosmic Cruised.

It was then that he noticed he had a few missed messages. He hit ‘click to view your missed messages.’ They were exactly the type of messages that he did not want to read at that moment. Three messages from Heptahedra.

‘We have lost contact with Heptad. Concerned.’

Sep clicked to the next message. Also from Heptahedra.

‘Disabled the repeater on Terranova Two. Still no contact from Heptad. Now worried. Cannot even receive a location confirmation from his Q’muniktor.’

With his hands trembling, Sep clicked to the third and last message. Heptahedra again.

‘Erde destroyed. Massive implosion detected and confirmed. Believe Heptad to have been lost to us.’

Sep clicked the off button on his Q’muniktor. Paralysed to the spot in shock.

*****

It probably had to happen one day. During the short mid-afternoon time of the aborted investiture of April the First, an ancient and long forgotten atomic bomb storage and launch facility on Erde decided it had been long enough to rust the fuses of a few of its one hundred and seventy-six nuclear warheads stored there. And while only one bomb decided all by itself to explode, it then triggered the other one hundred and seventy-five to either spontaneously explode in situ, or launch and then explode on arriving at their long time pre-programmed enemy targets. Even more unluckily though, was that the automatic atomic defence systems of thirty-four other little countries that existed before the seventh Erdean planet wide war were left activated, as there was no one left alive to deactivate them, so they all fired their arsenals of atomic weapons willy-nilly in response to the arrival of the unfriendly atomic warheads, which exploded on their little patch of Erde.

Within the space of the 47 minutes during April’s ill-fated investiture, the frantic firing and exploding of atom, plutonium and hydrogen bombs, meant that Erde had finally and successfully managed to destroy every living creature, plant and cell on its surface, including all the innocent cockroaches and Erdeworms, and turn itself into a utterly poisoned, uninhabitable and very dead planet. With very big ugly holes now in its surface as well. Erde was now the ex-blue planet. For some, a fitting end to a folly that had really lasted for far too long, but not such a happy ending for the gorillas, or the bananas.

For Sep however, he had lost a brother. And it also ruined a perfectly good plan.

*****

‘I have waited for this day for a very long time sir,’ High Commander Grundlestick said after being introduced to September by Kaybob Krizzle.

‘Yes High Commander, as we all have,’ September replied. ‘And at last we can meet openly now as members of the Blood Brotherhood.’

‘There are far more of us than I’d imagined. In recent days I’d concluded that the High Council President was one of the Brotherhood, but to see so many other members rise today in this Grand Hall was most illuminating.’

‘I must say High Commander that I was extremely anxious when I sent you that message yesterday,’ Kaybob Krizzle said.

‘I’m sure Mr President. Considering the secrecy in which we have operated for so many generations, you would have known the risk you were taking. But at least we now know who ‘S’ is after all these years.’

‘Well, that’s all behind us now,’ September said trying to move on with more important matters. ‘High Commander, there is a very important matter that Mr Krizzle and I need to discuss with you.’

‘Certainly sir?’

‘We’re both of the opinion that given the circumstances, the appointment of a temporary Potentate-General would not bring stability, and would not have the required authority to enact the necessary constitutional changes that will be needed over the coming months.’

‘I understand sir. So what do you propose?’

‘As has been our Blood Brotherhood charter for such a long time, Gloth must now return to a democratically elected Supreme Potentate of pure Glothian blood. However, give the turmoil that will exist in the halls of power over the coming months, and the vacancies that will be created both on the High Council and Grand Council by the removal of those who were of Erdean descent, it would be irresponsible to conduct such an election immediately.

However, Gloth cannot function without the benefactorial leadership of a Supreme Potentate. So Mr Krizzle and I believe the best solution is to appoint a short term Supreme Potentate, who will be responsible at first for stabilising the governance of Gloth, and then for establishing the political climate necessary to be able to hold a free and open election for the office of Supreme Potentate of Gloth and the Twelve Sun Systems.’

‘We envisage a term of approximately one year,’ Krizzle added.

‘It sounds like a perfectly workable solution to me,’ Grundlestick said. ‘Do you have a short list of possible suitably qualified people?’

‘Oh, it’s a very short list High Commander,’ September said.

‘A list with only one name,’ Krizzle added.

‘Oh yes?’

‘Mr Krizzle and I believe that there is only one person who possesses the unquestionable loyalty to Gloth, the strength of character and proven leadership qualities, as well as being independent from the existing political process. We have both agreed that the best person to fill this role is you sir.’ September said and waited.

‘Thank you gentlemen. I’m humbled by your confidence in me. But are you sure my military background is suitable? Are there not others more qualified and suitable for such a high office?’

‘In our opinion, no,’ Krizzle said.

‘Well, I’m not sure what to say to you gentlemen.’

‘High Commander. As you understand, there is much to be done when we leave this hall. While we are certainly not ordering you to accept, both September and I would like to leave here with this issue resolved,’ Krizzle said and September gave an agreeing look towards Grundlestick.

‘Very well gentlemen. I understand your need to settle this matter. When I joined Glothic High Command as a young man, I swore my life and allegiance to Gloth and to serve in whatever capacity I was ordered. Therefore, I am sworn to accept this posting as an order from The Puissant of Karhoonaa and President of the Grand Council. However….?’

‘Yes?’ Krizzle asked as Grundlestick paused for a moment.

‘I would ask you sir, that you will agree to become my deputy during this interim posting as I will be surely in need of your experience and wisdom.’

‘Good. That’s settled,’ September said without allowing Krizzle to reply. ‘Unless you have any objection Mr President?’

‘None at all September. And I will support you in whatever capacity you see fit High Commander.’

‘Excellent then,’ September said. ‘Now, we need to get you sworn in High Commander. Mr President, it would seem a waste to let all these good people assembled here go away without a successful investiture.’

‘I couldn’t agree more September,’ Krizzle agreed.

*****

Kaybob Krizzle returned to the rostrum as the Lacertilian and Gregorian Guards were escorting the last round up of Erdean blood from the Grand Hall. The remaining members of the assembled guests were noisily chatting amongst themselves and obviously digesting and dissecting the events of the afternoon. Krizzle tapped the microphone, and then again, and the crowd quietened a little.

‘My dear ambassadors, councillors, ministers and delegates. If I could have your attention please?’ Krizzle boomed into the hall and waited for silence. It arrived.

‘For thousands of years, there has been those who have dreamed of today. Ichor,’ which was met with applause from those in the hall who were members of the Blood Brotherhood.

‘For those of you who are unfamiliar with the word, Ichor represents the mythical fluid that ran like blood through the veins of gods, and as such was pure. It came to represent the aim of the Blood Brotherhood to return pure Glothic blood to the office of the Supreme Potentate of Gloth and the Twelve Sun Systems. Today that long held dream has almost been fulfilled.’ Krizzle paused as more applause met his announcement.

‘For a very long time the decline of a Royal Glothic Empire, which was built upon foreign blood, has been evident to all. This tragic period of Glothic history has now ended. However, it is now imperative that we move forward and return good governance, benefactorial leadership and pride to our great Glothic Empire. It falls within my powers as High Council President to call for the necessary vote and to conduct the investiture of a Supreme Potentate. As we are gathered here today for this very purpose, I would ask you to consider the following motion,’ Krizzle paused and waited to hear if there were any interjections. There were none. He then beckoned September and High Commander Grundlestick to join him on the rostrum. A few whispers swept across the crowd.

‘Ambassadors, councillors, ministers and delegates. It is my solemn duty as President of the Grand Council of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth to seek your approval today to invest a new Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth in accordance with the laws of our great empire. This investiture will be valid for a period of one year only, after which time, a permanent Supreme Potentate will be elected freely, openly and democratically. Your vote today will be to confirm the candidature of High Commander Huphnic Grundlestick as our preferred choice to hold this transitional Supreme Potentateship of Gloth,’ Krizzle said and paused again.

‘If there are any objections to this motion, please stand and feel free to address the rostrum.’

While many stood, they did not take the opportunity to address the rostrum in objection. Instead, they stood to applaud. When the clapping abated, Krizzle continued.

  ‘Thank you, I will now call for your vote on the motion. Would you please vote by our customary showing or hiding of hands.’

As the vote was taken and counted, Sep stood at the back of the hall. Still in shock and unsure of what he should do. September was far too busy installing a new Supreme Potentate to be worried about a Glothic Cosmic Cruiser full of Erdeans, casually orbiting Gloth because it had no place on Erde to go. However, Sep stayed calm and decided to do what he always did when he had big decisions to make. He would put it off until tomorrow. Anyway, there was an investiture coming up for him to witness. After all his thousands of years living underground on Titania, cloning himself and waiting for this very day, he decided he was staying to watch and anything else could wait.

He waited as the official vote was handed to the High Council President. Then followed a little rearranging and organising as the High Councillors, less the few that were now unfortunately aboard a shuttle bound for the Glothic Cosmic Cruiser bound for nowhere, returned to their seats on the rostrum. September sitting alongside the President. Seemingly granted honorary membership of the High Council for the day. High Commander Huphnic Grundlestick was now standing where one young April fool had been standing only an hour or so before and was adorned with the Royal cape by three ushers. That the cape was a little small for him seemed to bother no one. Once all was in readiness the President rose to his feet.