Greegs & Ladders (18 page)

It is now my
belief that the purpose of the Groller species, the complete reason
for their very evolution, was to make sure that this object made
its way into my possession.

The Journal

“What were you
doing back there?” said Rip. “You know how hungry those creatures
were?”

“It was worth
it,” I said. “Look at this. They were hiding some type of old book.
Who knows what important information it contains.”

“
Another
book?” asked Rip concernedly. “Last time you read a book to
us
we got in a lot of
trouble. Remember?”

“
I
haven’t had time to forget. Last time I read a book to you was a
copy of
Very
Rare Planets,
and
that
was when we decided
to visit Hroon. So only seconds ago did we finish getting in the
trouble that occurred from the last time I read a book to
you.”

“Exactly. I
think we could use a break before you start unleashing more trouble
from out of whatever other hexed books you continuously find lying
around.”

“I concur,”
said Wilx. “Take that book to your room if you want to read it.
We’ll be in here purging our minds of cursed knowledge by way of a
few Crammington Krish Fortinis.”

“We still have
some of those?” said Rip elatedly.

I retired to
my room, leaving the two well-seasoned travellers of space and time
to their self-destructive methods of transcendental meditation.

I carefully
opened the book, making sure not to crack its weather-worn pages. I
immediately saw from the dated entries that it was a personal
journal of sorts.

But who wrote
it?

And where?

1
^st
ENTRY – DATE: 337/51 – LOCATION: Mother Ship, Yoloron
Galaxy

My name is
Jorf. I just moved to the up and coming Yoloron Galaxy. Today I
started a new job. I am an Intergalactic Specimen Collector. It is
my duty to obtain any and all sorts of life forms from whatever
planet I come across. The spaceship I have been equipped with may
be old and rickety, but it has all the right environmental housing
facilities for storing any type of species. My first assignment is
to visit a nearby largish meteor that has taken up orbit around a
new sun. We are to decide if the meteor is showing any tendencies
of becoming a planet, i.e.: whether or not life is sprouting up on
this barren wasteland. It sounds dull, and I don’t expect to find
anything. Just the sort of job they give to someone on their first
day.

I wasn’t
entirely interested in this Jorf character, but I recognized the
name Yoloron as having been the ancient name for what humans would
later call the Milky Way Galaxy.

2
^nd
ENTRY – DATE: 337/52 – LOCATION: Mother Ship, Orbiting
Meteor

Today our ship
arrived at the meteor/planet. According to the papers back home,
this new addition to our galaxy has been named ‘Earth,’ a word from
the Hindrian language meaning ‘unsightly, misshapen barren
wasteland.’ I actually thought the name sounded good, and figured
it was a shame to have such a negative meaning attached to it. But
no other description is as appropriate for Earth. It is simply an
uninhabited meteor. I have no idea why we’ve been sent here.

3
^rd
ENTRY – DATE: 337/53 – LOCATION: Surface of
Earth

We have set up
a camp base on the surface of the meteor. We are to stay here for a
Yoloron week to thoroughly make sure there are no signs of life.
Everything is freezing cold. A week here will probably feel more
like a month.

5
^th
ENTRY – DATE 337/55 – LOCATION: Surface of Earth

There is not
much to do here. I have mostly been experimenting with the liquor
supply by mixing all sorts of random alcohols together, hoping for
some type of favorable concoction. Only one drink has so far tasted
decent. I have decided to call it a ‘Crammington Krish Fortini,’
named after my great friend and mentor Crammington Krish Fortini.
Working a job is most difficult after drinking a few CKF’s, as the
effects of this new beverage are staggeringly strong.

6
^th
ENTRY – DATE: 337/56 – LOCATION: Surface of
Earth

Today was our
fourth night on Earth. I’ve been trying to keep myself busy
analyzing ground samples. There appears to be no cellular activity
on this entire rock. There isn’t even the trace of an atmosphere.
We have sent burrowing pod-bots to the core, to check for any heat
emission that might later provide fertile ground for life. Negative
readings across the board. You can tell that the rest of the crew
has taken a liking to my new drink by the drastic drop in work
productivity. One of the robot technicians even thinks the CKF
might be a big hit at the local bars.

9
^th
ENTRY – DATE: 337/59 – LOCATION: Mother Ship, Orbiting
Earth

Today we left
Earth. Our ship is chartered for home and I could not be
happier.

10
^th
ENTRY – DATE: 337/60 – LOCATION: Mother Ship

Something
terrible has happened. It seems a cooler full of life-samples has
been forgotten on the surface of Earth. We have been ordered to
turn our ship around for a Retrieval Mission. Personally I don’t
see the problem with the loss of one cooler.

11
^th
ENTRY – DATE 337/61 – LOCATION: Mother Ship

This cooler is a big deal! Everyone calls it The Ultimate
Kit. It is apparently a well-rounded collection of the most varied
forms of life from across the farthest stretches of the universe. I
have been told the cooler is the ‘Ark of All Alien Life.’
It also contains a
very rare planetary starter kit, including Instant-Ocean packets
and ultra rare Bottled-Atmosphere.

12
^th
ENTRY – DATE 337/61 – LOCATION: Surface of Earth

We are now
back at Earth. The camp base was reconstructed. A search party was
immediately sent out to scour the crater-laden surface for the
cooler. I have yet to be accused, but I now remember clearly that I
was the one who lost the cooler. Punishment is said to be severe. I
hope everyone understands it was a mistake, and that anyone would
have forgotten the cooler if they’d been gallivanting around a
pitch dark meteor while sloshed on half a dozen CKFs.

14
^th
ENTRY – DATE: 337/63 – LOCATION: Mother Ship

After two days
of searching the entire surface of Earth, we have concluded that
the cooler is no longer here, or was never here in the first place.
I’ve decided to retire from the specimen collecting business and
continue a relaxing career with my experimental drink-making
adventures.

I decided to
skip the next few pages, noticing they were merely a mad inventors’
plans for selling ill-conceived, deadly drinks. After a few weeks
the entries were suddenly being written from prison.

44
^th
ENTRY – DATE: 337/93 – LOCATION: Grogol Prison
Detention

I have been convicted of the heinous crime of ‘Unwanted
Planet Creation.’ Apparently there were more than 17 witnesses who
claimed I brazenly and drunkenly dumped out the contents of the
cooler. While I cannot deny these claims, nor deny that there were
indeed witnesses all around me, I still suspect my team members of
ratting me out for the sole reason of wishing to steal my invention
of the Crammington Krish Fortini, a drink that in one monthhas
become so popular it’s being quoted as ‘the New Water.’ The robot
technician George was especially interested in seeing the list of
ingredients for the CKF. The CKF is not my only invention to have
recently taken off. The media is saying that in the last month
Earth has quadrupled in size, as well as having formed an
atmosphere, an ocean and a rainforest. There is no question that
Earth is rapidly evolving into a full-fledged planet. As for
life-forms, evolution passed through the amoebic stage within the
first week, and now there are sightings of strange and tiny wriggly
creatures crawling from out of the ocean. The unexpected planet has
been deemed superfluous and/or a threat to the galaxy. I do not
know what will happen to me. All I know is that I’ve been allowed
to keep my journal and that a piece of its blank paper is the best
meal I’ve had in weeks.

I could see
the ripped edge of the page that Jorf had torn out and eaten.

I ran
down the corridor to tell Rip and Wilx the news. They were
coincidentally drunk on Crammington Krish Fortinis. Or not a
coincidence, depending on how synchronized you believe the universe
to be.

“How’s the
reading going?” asked Rip. “Learning new things that will endanger
our lives?”

“Have you ever
heard of the Yoloron Galaxy?”

“The Yoloron
Galaxy?” asked Wilx, snapping alive as if instantly made sober by
the mention of the words. “That sounds familiar.”

“It’s the
exact same Galaxy we’re in right now. Humans called it the Milky
Way.”

“What are you
talking about?” asked Rip.

“The book I
got on Hroon, it’s an old journal by an intergalactic
specimen-collector. He details the events in which he visits Earth
while it was still a lifeless meteor.”

“What’s
Earth?” asked Rip.

“
You
know that planet you just dumped me on for thousands of years? The
planet you forever altered when you introduced a
diabolically inter-spliced species of
investment bankers? That’s Earth.”

“Oh, yeah.
Earth. But it isn’t really Earth anymore, is it?”

“No. It’s the
Planetglomerate.”

“Had you
reached the point yet?” asked Rip.

“This guy, the
specimen collector, he spilled a cooler full of alien life samples
on the surface of Earth. All the various seeds/cells/fungi from the
cooler quickly evolved and spread, becoming the reason Earth turned
into a planet. The cooler was an intergalactic Ark of all alien
life. This explains the randomness and crowded diversity of life on
Earth. After all, what sort of sane and naturally evolved planet
has dozens of millions of different species?”

“But what is
the relevance?”

“If this had
never happened, Rip wouldn’t have had a planet in which to
introduce his inter-spliced bankers. And it was the inter-spliced
bankers who turned into Greegs after the creation of the
Planetglomerate.”

“What?”

“Because of
this journal, the evolutionary path of the human/Greeg can now be
traced back to the actions of one oblivious dope who didn’t care
about keeping his job.”

“How did the
journal end up on Hroon?”

“I don’t know
that yet.”

“Unusual place
for a journal to be.”

“Another thing
about the specimen collector,” I said, “is that he invented the
Crammington Krish Fortini.”

“He did not!”
shouted Rip belligerently.

“Everyone
knows that George the Robot Technician invented the CKF,” concurred
Wilx.

“You’re
wrong,” I said. “Jorf writes about how the drink was stolen by
George.”

“Who’s
Jorf?”

“The guy who
wrote the journal. The oblivious dope.”

Wilx and I sat
quietly while trying to deal with the strangeness of existence. Rip
went a little loud and crazy.

“Fully knowing
how things came to be is never a good thing,” he said.

Suddenly
Getting in a Lot of Trouble for Something that Happened a Very Long
Time Ago

“You are under
arrest for the wreckless crashing of a fuel-less ship of Obotron
crew members into the surface of the planet Lincra, the most
populated and popular planet in existence,” blared the megaphone
from the suddenly approaching battalion of the Kroonum Civility,
Order and Peace Upkeep and Maintenance Division - Deltron Force
Strike 9, sporting their spanking new crest and logo, freshly
dubbed formal and binding by the Council of Eleven and a Half
Thousand Different Colored Robes in the most recent hammering out
of the Treaty of Manderbatt. “You’re sure that’s them then?” blared
the loudspeaker to someone inside the ship, clearly failing to turn
off said loudspeaker.

“Oh yes, we’re
sure,” grumbled thousands of eerie and ghost-like voices.

“
Right,
don’t try anything tricky like last time, you’re going in for a
hearing, then an indictment, then another hearing, then a formal
reading of the latest version of the Treaty of Manderbatt, any new
suggestions more than welcome, then a cross hearing, then a formal
hearing, then a trial, then a verdict, then a mandatory sentencing,
then an even more mandatory re-evaluation of said sentencing, then
a mistrial, then a re-trial, then a re-assessment of the whole
process under the newest revisions to the Treaty of Manderbatt,
then lunch, for us of course, not you; then a grueling 14 day
re-enactment of the whole ordeal so far for
Kroonum Zoo Legal Wars – Series
19987.34 Part 2,
then
probably an all out war with those imbecilic crooks over on
Persheron 8 and innumerable opportunities for you to escape without
serving any actual punishment. But make no mistake, escape again…
and you will be caught… again!”

“Well I’d say
it sounds like going through the legal system is punishment
enough,” suggested Rip.