Waco's Lummox

Waco Lummox 63

WACO’S LUMMOX By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 63

Minniots, Rarebits, Hommynids and the Scarecrow  ~ “I could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers, consultin' with the rain; and my head, I'd be scratchin' while my thoughts were busy hatchin' if I only had a brain.” *

The so called shack was an enormous lean-to structure, which wasn’t really a ‘lean-to’ at all, but only shared a common wall, that was added onto the backside of the farthest old barn on the property.  It was one of four huge barns on the farm, but by far, the largest.  It was like the Tyrannosaurs Rex of barns.  It looked like it might have doubled as a hanger for an old double winged crop duster airplane, and so it was.  Inside, hidden away, known only to Monty and Dexter, who discovered it by accident, was an old Curtis Wright ‘Jenny’ Biplane covered in several layers of tarpaulins.  It was a wonderful old thing they would play in for hours pretending they were World War I pilots over Germany fighting against the Red Baron.  

At one time, Shane could imagine the farm was a productive piece of property and employed many people, but there were no signs of it ever being a slave run operation.  Cole commented, the old man must have made money off the place to afford so many large outbuildings, and the main house looked like it was a show place in its heyday.  Boss Potter noted, while the furnishings in the house were old, they were choice antiques and would bring a fortune at auction.  The old barn itself was enormous.  It was at least a hundred and fifty feet long or more and the width of it measured fifty feet or better.  Monty said his part was an add-on for extra storage.  The apex of the roof of Monty’s shack was probably thirty feet high and gently sloped at a graceful angle to a span of thirty-five feet where it ended at an eight foot height.

The interior floor space measures fifty feet wide by thirty-five feet in length.  The basic potential living area was larger than most standard homes.  It was a huge place for one person to be living in by himself, but to Monty it was home for fifteen years.  He managed to utilize every area and created a wonderland for himself and his companion.  The men no sooner arrived, disembarked from their vehicles, when a welcoming committee of one came around the corner of the barn.  There was no doubt in anyone's mind she was pissed because she was left alone for so long, but she was overjoyed and thrilled to see her companions again.  She let out screams of indignation and accusations, squeaks and hee-haws, gurgles and guffaws of joy and ran straight for Monty and Dexter.

“Jenny!” they yelled in unison.  It was like a family reunion.  Monty and Dexter were both in tears.  Obviously the animal meant a lot to them.  If this was the famed jenny of the of the vegetable patch drama, she didn’t look very old to Shane or Cole.  Maybe this was one of the original’s descendants?

“She’s a beauty, Son.” Shane patted her, and she was in love. “How long have you had her?”

“She’s about ten years old or so.  We don’t really know how old she is, Master.  She was a wild ass what wandered onto the property.  Grandpap shot her for git’n into his garden, but we managed to patch her up and nurse her back to health.  She became our friend and helpmate.  I thought sure she would be gone by now.” Monty seemed thrilled she was still there.  She seemed to represent a connection to his past that skipped over the bad parts and made him think of the good times.

“That’s because we feed her.” came a voice from behind the men.  It was Mr. Ong and his two oldest sons.  Monty and Dexter ran to greet them with handshakes and hugs. “She come to our place every morning to eat, then make long trip back here to wait for you and Dexter.” said Mr. Ong.  “We try get her to stay because we afraid Mr. Dundee might shoot her again, but she learn to stay out of sight.”

“Good to see you again, Mr. Ong.” Shane said as he shook their hands. “Glad you could join us.”   

“A pleasure to see you gentlemen again, Sir.” he said and as an aside to Shane and Cole, “We couldn’t pass up opportunity to see you men’s reaction when you see Monty’s place.” he smiled knowingly.  

Monty walked over to the unusual wooden door which was situated nearer the lower portion where the roof slanted.  It was a large arch shape and had three large wheels, one mounted in the center and the two others evenly spaced on either side.  They looked like tractor steering wheels.  Monty spun each one of the two side wheels.  When they locked into place he turned the center wheel and the large door opened.  Monty, followed closely by Dexter and Bobby, went into the structure.  Dexter turned and motioned for the men to follow them; then, turned back and followed Monty.  When the men walked into the place they were stunned.  It was like nothing they could imagine.  Cole remarked later, the only thing he could compare it to was walking out onto the balcony at the Mars port lodge.  It truly was one of the most remarkable thing they ever saw.  Boss Potter was speechless.

The men gathered just inside the door.  They bunched together to take it all in.  No one dared move further inside.  They were overwhelmed by what they saw.  They were looking into an unbelievable world Monty and Dexter created for themselves.  Every inch of the place was meticulously painted with exotic designs and symbols, but they didn’t stand out.  They didn't overwhelm.  They blended into everything like they were a whispered language.  Colors on the ceiling and walls weren’t just painted on.  They flowed from one color to another in a muted rainbow effect that was as beautiful as it was erotic.  Nothing clashed.  There was no confusion.  To break up the expanse of the huge room, there were huge canvases hung from the beams that ran horizontally and vertically and held in place by large poles.  They were attached at the top but free to hang from the ceiling and could be raised and lowered by a sophisticated rope and pulley mechanism.  Each was painted to appear like a different scene from beautiful places on Earth.  One was an alpine meadow.  Another room was the Grand Canyon; another was a beach and seascape; each was carefully painted to represent its theme.    

It was all meticulously planned and accomplished to look like it was the most natural place in the world for one to relax.  It said ‘home.’  The sheer beauty of the place sucked you in, wrapped itself around you like a warm comforter blanket on a cold evening before a roaring fire, and everything fit into place like the cogs of a finely tuned mechanism.  It looked like it was put together by a team of slightly mad watchmakers.  It subtly, but erotically, raped you from the moment you walked inside; and yet, the most amazing thing was, there wasn’t a hint of sexuality.  Monty was going about checking things and not paying much attention to the men who were still huddled together in awe.  The huge back wall was carefully divided into sections and between each section was five, enormous, famous works of art; paintings four feet wide by eight feet tall that were breathtakingly accurate in their presentation.  One was a Monet water lilies; the second was Van Gogh’s famous sunflowers; the third and centerpiece was Da Vinci’s ‘Lady with Ermine;’ the fourth was Picasso’s ‘Three Muscians’ and the last was a stunning Diego Rivera ‘The Flower Vendor’ from 1941.  

“Where, the hell, did he find reproductions that large?” Shane asked in awe.

“Not reproductions, Mr. Goodnight,” said Mr. Ong quietly, “real paintings, copies of originals painted by Monty and Dexter with nothing more than old buckets of throwaway latex paint they find and cast off brushes.  They perfect in every detail.  My sons take pictures, put into computer, overlay on top of originals, no difference.  Perfect copies only much larger.  They flawless.”  

“No!  How could...?” said Shane quietly but never finished.  He settled for looking at his mate and just shaking his head.  Cole grinned at him and winked.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” smiled Mr. Ong.  Shane nodded his head in awe.

“Forgive me, Mr. Ong, you’re so right.  This is beyond description or explanation.  It’s beyond belief.  It's staggering.” said Shane.  “Unless you see for yourself, no one would believe.  This is incredible.”  Shane said in awe.

“Holy shit!  Who is this young man we have taken among us?” whispered Gil Morris.  

“Mr. Ong warned me, Mr. Morris, but I never imagined anything like this.  This is fantastic.  The entire place should be in a museum.” Shane allowed.

The men walked slowly into the big room taking in the vast expanse of the area.  The huge, overpowering back wall, where the paintings hung, was composed of the old weathered and somewhat distressed barn wood that took on a grey patina over the years before Monty’s section was added.  There was a massive natural oak beam that ran the length of the backside of the old barn some fifty feet and corresponded with the first break in the walls for the roof line of the gigantic structure.  The paintings were a central focus of the wall, but where they ended began Monty’s personal living quarters.  He  constructed a two story loft with a stairs leading up to the second level where he had his futon bed and closets with built in cabinets for clothes.  There was only an ornate railing facing out to the main room.  It was open and airy with banks of windows on the outside wall upstairs and down.  Below was an office with a huge oak desk surrounded by book cases filled with mementos he collected of various trinkets over the years.  It wasn’t just thrown together.  It was carefully planned and executed.  It looked as if fine wood craftsmen spend days on end carving and fitting every piece of wood into exactly the right place.  Beams that held up the superstructure of his loft bedroom were not just raw four by fours.  Each was carved into spirals and individually painted or stained to look very old and antique.  It looked like something out of a medieval castle.  There were plush, beautiful oriental rugs and carpets everywhere that only added to the overall warmth and richness of the place.  It didn’t look like a humble, starving peasant lived there.  It looked very rich, warm and inviting; something someone might see in a very wealthy person’s home.

“All these rugs were found in the trash, Master Shane.  I never took anything that wasn’t thrown away.  I brought them back here, cleaned them and gave them new life.  One doesn’t have to live poorly just because he has little money.  I chose to live with beauty around me and my companions helped me.”

There was a four foot space between each large painting and in those spaces were areas the same height of the paintings cut into the old barn wall and book cases built and sunk into the cavities.  The paintings were carefully hung about two feet off the floor so the bookcases ran from the floor to  a height of ten feet.  It was a clean line across the top from the paintings to the tops of the six, three by ten bookcases filled with books on all subjects.

“C’mer, Son.” Shane hailed him.  Monty came to him.

“Yes, Sir, Master Shane?”

“Stop what you’re doing and take us on a guided tour.  I don’t know about the rest of these men, but I want to know what this is all about and how you created it?”

“Yeah, us, too.” added several of the other men.

“And where are the machines you told us about?” Gil Morris asked.

“They’re on the other side of the back wall, Mr. Morris.  I expanded into the barn and created separate workshops for them.  There’s a door between the Monet and the Van Gogh.  You can’t see it because it’s disguised.  Here, I’ll show you.”  Monty walked over to the second bookcase and gently tapped it with his hand.  A section three feet wide by eight feet high swung open.  The top two feet of the book shelves didn’t move.  It was the top of the bookcase and doubled as a doorstop.  He slowly swung opened the door for the men to see into another huge room on the other side of the wall.  A light came on automatically to expose the other room.  The six machines Monty told them about were arranged in order of their importance.  There were six brand new saddles and a shelf that held about a dozen pair of fine buckaroo boots he made.  The men rushed in to see.  Nothing will get the attention of working cowboys faster than boots and saddles.  

“Never mind the machines for right now.  Take a minute of your time and tell us about this place.” ordered Shane.

“Ain’t much to tell, Master Shane.  With Dexter’s and a few friends' help, I’ve worked on it all my life.  I built a lot of it myself.  Larger projects I had some help.  My Ong brothers were always willing to lend a hand for a larger project.  Dexter is very strong and powerful for his size.  I built my kitchen when I’s ten or eleven.  My bedroom on stilts and my office underneath I built when I’s about twelve or thirteen.  Those two enclosed rooms, upstairs and down, off my bedroom and office area are my bathrooms.  I added them when I learned about plumbing and hooked up water lines to the windmill pump.  There’s a complete bath upstairs, but only a toilet and sink downstairs off my study.  I learned about waste disposal and created a septic system about thirty yards from the building out of castoff fifty-five gallon drums we buried with my grandpap's tractor and ran leach lines from ‘em.  All waste from the bathrooms and my kitchen goes there, but only organic waste.  Paper waste is burned.  Vegetable waste and kitchen scraps went to the chickens.  I pumped water up to the roof of the barn and through gravity flow I had hot water for cleaning and showering.  During the winter when the sun weren’t hot enough, I diverted the water flow through the grating in my fireplace.  Them’s the copper pipes you see running back and forth what act like fire grates.  My office downstairs is also my library where I keep all my important books.” Monty explained. “The bookcase dividers between the large paintings is where I keep other books Dexter and I read.  This door and another down the way act as doors into the back part of the barn I partitioned off some time ago for more room.  See those stairs inside the other room?  They go up to another workroom on the second floor.  The wall they run up is the dividing wall for two more big workrooms on the other side behind the other half of the wall.

“Did you need that many workrooms, Son?” Cole asked.

“Oh, yes, Sir.  In the other rooms on the other side of the dividing wall is where I built Dexter and several other projects I completed.  Master Shane, there’s some of this I need to show only you, Boss Potter and Mr. Jenkins.”

“What if we get the machines out and what you need to take from the leather working area?  We can send the cowboys and our sheriff escorts on their way, then we can discuss the rest.”

“Sounds good, except I found two more saddles and several more pairs of boots upstairs in my observatory I hadn’t planned on what were made while I was in jail.” Monty looked at Shane and shrugged.

“You wanna’ tell me how they came about, Son?  Now would be a good time to let your master know yore’ secrets.” Shane encouraged him.

“Can we wait ‘til the men take the machines, Master?  Let them take them new saddles and boots.  You can decide what you wanna’ do with ‘em.  They’s yours now.”

“Okay, but I want my pa, Mr. Morris, and a couple of other men who ain’t here right now to hear what you got to tell us.  Don’t you think it’s time you brought the Ongs on board?  I’ve invited them to join us as family and to become a part of our Grange.  Because of you and Dexter they must become a part of our greater family.”

“I agree with you, Sir.  I know you’re right, Master Shane, but some of the information I have to share is pretty select.  I would rather share it with you, your associates and let you chose what to tell others.  Another thing, Master Shane,” Monty said lowering his voice almost to a whisper, “there’s sensitive information I ain’t shared with Dexter what directly concerns him.  Since you’re his master, now, as well as mine, it should be up to you to make the decision how much he should know.  After I show you, I guarantee, you’ll understand why, Sir.” Monty had a pleading sound to his request.

“Fair enough.  I trust you.  I’ll have the cowboys start loading the truck with the machines, the saddles and the boots.”

Shane instructed the cowboys to start loading the truck.  He laughingly threatened the cowboys with a ‘whupping’ if they tried on any of the boots before they got home.  They all groaned and moaned like little kids whose daddy just told them they couldn’t have ice cream.  Mr. Morris, Shane, Potter and Cole laughed at them.  It took about an hour, and they had the six machines loaded and tied down with all of Monty’s hand tools.  They also carefully loaded the saddles and boots he made onto the truck.  Monty even talked Jenny onto the back of the truck, but unless Monty or Dexter was with her, she wasn’t about to go away and leave them.  She found them again, and she had no plans to let them out of her sight any time soon.  They could go into the shack as long as she could stand at the door, see them and call to them if she got nervous they were moving too far away from her.  Dexter wasn’t much better; he pleaded to stay when Shane suggested he go along with Jenny so she would feel comfortable about relocating to the ranch.  He was sure once she joined the other jennys and jacks on their ranch she would feel at home.  Shane looked down at Dexter’s sad little face and picked him up in his arms.

“You my slave?” he asked Dexter quietly as he stole a kiss.

“Yes, Sir, you know I am.” Dexter said quietly like he knew what was coming.

“I’s jes’ check’n.  I though maybe you might be having second thoughts and changed yore’ mind.  Slaves must do what their master tells ‘em.  Ain’t I shared more with you than I have your big brother?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Master Shane, and I’m grateful.  I still wanna’ be your salve.  I need to belong to you, now, more than ever.” he said poignantly.

“Do you love me, Dexter?” he smiled at the boy-android.

“That ain't fair.  You know I do, Captain Shane.”

“I love you, too, Scout.  Now do as your master tells you and go along with Jenny.  Bobby and a couple of the cowboys will ride with you.  You got things to do back at the ranch.  We’ll be along directly.”

“Okay.  I’ll obey my master.” Dexter conceded like he couldn’t defeat Shane’s logic and was resigned to accept it.

After everything was loaded, Shane sent the cowboys on their way, told them to unload the machines in the new barn and cover them with plastic until he could figure out a place for them.  Boss Potter volunteered to go along with Bobby and Dexter back to the ranch.  He knew Shane needed to settle some things with Monty and understood the fewer people around the better.  He would hear about it later or he could review videos through Kyron.  The Ongs paid their respects and took off to return to their farm.  Shane promised to be in touch with them within the next few days to give them a report.  Mr. Ong was grateful.  Monty thanked his cowboy slave brother’s and had a big hug for them.  He promised Bobby and Dexter they’d be along in a little while.  He gave Boss Potter a hug and thanked him for coming.  Shane asked Cole, and Gil Morris to stay with him.  

“I hope we can get all this taken care of this evening.  I’d hate to have to come back over here and confront your grandpa again, Son.  Maybe we can lay our cards on the table and learn what we’re dealing with from each other.”

“‘What,’ is about right, Master Shane.  Sometimes I ain’t even sure who or what I am.” Monty lamented.  

“Maybe we can help, Son, if you give us a chance.  There’s one other man I’d like to send for— Ramrod Long.  You met him at the barbecue last Sunday.  He’s my brother Charlie’s ramrod.  He’s also the leader of our Grange.  I think he needs to know what we’re dealing with here.  Are you ready to trust me, Son?  Are your ready to give yourself to me?”

“My companion used those same words, and everyone has admonished me to do it, Sir.  Other than the Ongs, it will be the first time in my life I ever fully trusted anyone enough, but I think there are greater powers in the universe what are directing me to lay my life at your boots, Sir, literally and figuratively.  It ain’t easy for me to trust people, Master Goodnight.  I ain’t like other people.”

“I’m aware of that, Monty.  Ain’t chu’ never wondered or considered how you came to be with me as my salve?  The money to pay for you was provided by a couple of members of our Grange two days after you was thrown in jail.  Judge Potter was hoping to get a settlement with Ruggles.  He left your case in Judge Anderson’s capable hands, but his people couldn’t get Ruggles to settle.  We took a chance you was gonna’ be sentenced from five to ten years indenturement, but we wanted to be the first with the highest bid for you.  You were a gift to me from Ramrod Long and ma’ brother, Charlie.  You got them to thank for saving you from becoming Charlie Ruggles’ slave.  Do you have any idea why you’re so different from other people, Son?”

“Not really, Sir.  I think it might have some’um to do with my dad.  When my grandpap got mad at me, he’d curse and tell me I was jes’ like my old man.  I’ve always been able to do strange things other people can’t.  Most folks look on me like I's a freak; they shy away from me.  I tried hard to be real careful not to let on about my abilities or show off.  I done it when I’s a kid and got into a passel of trouble.  Only the Ongs have been faithfully good to me and Dexter all these years, but they don’t know ever’ thing I can do.”

“The Ongs are very aware of your differences, Son, but they look on them as gifts and not some’um to be spooked by.  They know and love you and Dexter, Monty.  Has it ever crossed your mind there just might be others similar to you around? ” Shane asked.

“Naw, Sir, but the Ong’s told me you and I was a lot alike; so did Dexter.  He insisted we’s enough alike we could be brothers.” Monty said.

“He’s right, Son.  He didn’t lie to you.  We’re more alike than you might imagine.” Shane assured him.

“Can you make yourself invisible, Master?” Monty challenged him.

“Shore' can.” Shane replied without hesitation.

“Can you transport yourself from one place to another?”

“Easy.”

“Can you move objects with your mind?”

“Nothing to it.” Shane smiled.  Cole smiled at him.  Monty saw no doubt in Shane’s face.  Monty looked confused.  Either Shane was telling him the truth or he was the best, rock solid, drop-dead, stone-cold bullshit artist he ever ran across.  He looked at Shane, cocked his head a bit and grinned like he didn’t believe him.

“Can you bring the dead back to life?” Monty asked as the ultimate challenge.

“Like you done with Jenny?” Shane smiled.

“How’d ju’ know about that?” Monty looked bemused.

“Your granddad done told us he suspected you bought her back to life, and a man would have to be deaf, blind and stupid not to feel the love what passed between the three of you when she discovered you’s home.  You not only brought her back to life, but I suspect you passed on to her some of your genetic information.  If I’m right, you have a malleable DNA structure, and unless she has a horrible accident, little Jenny will never face death again.  How do I know?  Jenny is much too young looking to be her age.  Just like you noticed I look too young to be my age.  Just like ma’ pa looks too young to be his age.  Boss Potter’s in his mid seventies.  I make sure the people I love and care about will never age.  Can you do that?  I ain’t brought nobody back to life yet, but I’m work’n on it.  Came close once.  Bobby Morris was knock'n on heaven's door, and I brought him back from the brink.  I’m developing into a pert-damn good healer, Son.  I got me some friends what brought the Holy Father back to life when he was shot through the head.”

“I heard about that.  I followed it on the news and knew something lie'kat must a' happened.  Nobody gets his brains blown out and recovers.  I healed one of the Ong’s grandkids who was dying of Leukemia.  The doctors done give up on her and sent her home to die.  Can you really heal people, Master Shane?”

“He healed my boy, Son.” Gil Morris spoke up, “Bobby was dying of a defective heart valve when Ms. Biddle and me brought him to Captain Shane.  I owe my boy’s life to yore’ master, Son.  I give him my word as a cowboy, if he healed my son and took Bobby for his own, I would become his slave for life, and I meant it.  I was ready to sign my life over to him when I seen my boy was gonna' make a full recovery.  He never asked that of me.   Instead he gimme' a good job, and Bobby and me, we decided to throw our lot in with him and the Grange.  In essence, we done give ourselves to him.  Ain't sorry we done it, neither.  We’d follow yore’ master to the ends of the Earth.” Gil’s voice cracked.

Monty continued to look at Shane with some suspicion, but he was beginning to wonder.

“I know what that look means, but I ain’t gonna’ prove it to you, Son.  It’s important you believe my word, trust me, and give yourself to me.  I know you believe in the cowboy way.  Cowboy to cowboy, you got my word I can do these things.  Why, the hell, do you think you been brought to me?” Shane had a strong definitive urgency in his voice.

“Oh, God, Master Shane!  I’m so different.  I ain’t trusted hardly nobody all my life.  What am I suppose to do?  You’re my master, tell me what to do?  I'm your slave, order me to do it.”  the young man fell to his knees, put his face in his hands and started sobbing.  Shane reached out and touched Monty’s mind to calm him.

<< My old boots need your attention, Son.  Pay homage to me, not because you’re my slave and it’s expected of you, but because you need to give yourself to me; because, you know you want to give yourself to me.  Show your faith in me, and say them words I know are in your heart.  I can hear you mulling them over in your mind; you want to, I can hear them, but my ears must hear them, the ancient voices of the universe are waiting to hear you speak, and these men, my closest associates, will pay witness. >>

“My, God!  Who are you?” whispered Monty, looking up into Shane's handsome face.

“Your master, Son.  I will own your body for four and a half years, but I’m asking you to give your heart to me; for how long, is to be decided on a daily basis or as long as you feel comfortable trusting me.  I ain’t no insane megalomaniac who’s forming a cult and insists on being worshiped.  I certainly ain’t no god or prelate of some new fangled cool-aid religion.  I was a slave for ten years and if I learned nothing else, it’s the value of family, no matter how you define it.  I’m a simple man, an ex-slave, a humble cowboy who has been touched by an ancient wisdom.  I don’t know why.  Sometimes, I been as confused as you feel right this minute.  I don’t have all the answers, Son, but for right now, I’m your owner and your master; however, to become a part of my family and stand by my side as my younger brother, you must give yourself to me like yore' little brother done.  He was right, it’s one thing to own a man because you paid for him or he was gifted to you, and quite another to have him give himself to you.  Which do you think is the greater bond?  Do you think my cowboy slaves would consider leaving me?  Except for a couple, they's all pledged themselves to me.  Even Mr. Morris and Bobby have given themselves to me, Son.  Gil Morris wouldn’t be here right now if’n he weren’t family.” Shane smiled at him.  Monty looked from Shane, to Cole and then to Gil Morris and saw only love and understanding in their eyes.  He began to pay homage to Shane’s boots.  When Shane was satisfied he spoke, “That’s fine, slave, now come to your master’s arms.” Shane spoke to him.  He arose and found Shane’s arms waiting for him.

“I will!  I give myself to you, Master Shane!” he cried.  “I believe in you.  I will trust you with my deepest secrets.  I love you, Sir.”  It felt like his heart broke in two.  He sobbed in Shane’s arms.  Monty was never so moved by anyone or anything in his life.  He was beginning to understand Dexter’s passion for the big cowboy.  How could he not give himself to this man?

“Shuuu, boy.  Don’t fret none.  You done the right thing.  I accept your gift.  Now, you belong to me.  You’re my brother.” Shane kissed Monty gently on his lips.  Cole came to them and placed his hand on Monty.  Gil Morris did the same.

“Welcome to our family, Monty.  Welcome to the Grange.” said Gil Morris.  Shane let go of him.  Monty grabbed Cole, hugged and kissed him.  He did the same with Gil Morris.

“Now we got that out of the way, let’s get down to business.  Admiral, I think we’re ready for you.  If you will be so kind, Kyron.” Shane said.  Monty looked perplexed.  He had no idea who Shane was addressing.

“My pleasure, Captain Shane.  The Admiral and his posse are here with me and have been following your progress at the Dundee farm.  They are ready to come to you.” came a booming voice.  Monty’s eyes opened wide, he looked almost terrified.  There was a bright flash of light, the men shielded their eyes and Ramrod Long, Shane’s older brother Charlie Goodnight, his boy Waco, Ox, and Waco’s mate Captain Vinceeth, Waco's identical brother Indigo/Blue, Jesse Watkins and his faithful companion Utah appeared before them.  The men were dressed as cowboys and Ox was wearing his usual, massive leather harness and tall boots with his summer cut in his coat.  Shane thought he looked more handsome than usual and felt his friend South-of-the-border move in his Wranglers.  Monty was wowed beyond words.  He wondered what he’d gotten himself into.  These men obviously were advanced if they mastered instant physical relocation of some kind.

“How did you do that?” Monty asked Shane, “How could you breakdown molecules and reassemble them someplace else without losing the integrity of the original?” he jumped to conclusions.  

“Interesting question, young man,” replied Lazarus Long, “but the premise of your assumption is incorrect.  We don’t transport by defining molecular structure or tearing it down and reassembling it somewhere else.  Even though I suspect you know better, that’s the influence of Star Trek.  While that sort of transport is highly theatrical and great for movies, in reality, it just won’t work; too many things could go wrong.  Certainly the writers of Star Trek knew it and took advantage of its inherent flaws with many plot twists around someone getting lost in transport or arriving someplace they weren’t supposed to.  We simply phase shift and move about by means of gravitic wells.  Your master told you he could transport himself from place to place.  Maybe now you will believe him.  How do you move about?” Lazarus put to him.

“The same way, Sir, but I never considered anybody else might understand the concept even if I explained it to them.” Monty was in awe.

“Monty, you met these gentlemen at our barbecue last Sunday.  Welcome, Gentlemen.” Shane spoke to the new arrivals.  They walked over and shook hands with Monty and greeted the other men.  Shane continued, “What you don’t know is, Captain Vinceeth is from another planet, the planet Tentagel in another solar system within our galaxy.  Several of his men were at the barbecue.  They were the largest men there.  They are a warrior class from a race of peaceful people, the Visallians.  That might sound like a dichotomy, but they are the police-class of warriors who are called upon to protect their world.  He and his people have committed themselves to helping us escape this planet when the end comes in approximately five years.

Captain Waco’s lummox slave, Ox, is known on Earth as a Bigfoot, but the truth is, he and his kind are survivors of their home world Volgo which was destroyed several centuries ago by our enemies, the Reptilians.  They were scattered across the universe and we are working to bring together the last of their species and helping to increase their population.  They are known as Volgorons.  Indigo/Blue, Master Waco's identical brother is identical becauce he is a clone of Master Waco and has two distinct entities living within him.  While his body is carbon based he has a silicon life-form living comfortably inside him along with another carbon based personality which developed unexpectedly.  That's why he has two names.  He's the first successful chimera of an interspecies hybrid.

Master Jesse and his companion, Utah, were the two who brought President Scudder back from death.  They are two remaining ancients who have roamed our planet for centuries.  Together, with them and a number of other races you will be introduced to later, we have joined together to face a common enemy, several parasitic races within our galaxy.  Our Grange is an organization devoted to gathering as much information, fauna and flora from our planet as possible, along with other good folks who are willing to start a new life without the influences of myths and superstitions; a society based on reason, the truth of science, trust, equality, hard work and faith in their fellow men.  Now you have given yourself to me, we can share these things with you, but we expect you to share with us.  We need to know and understand what you’ve discovered in the information spheres which helped and allowed you to create Dexter.  You can trust these men.  We are all members of the Grange.  It is my hope we can help you fill in the pieces of your past and explain to you how you came to belong to us.  It wasn’t by accident, Son.  You were sent to us for our mutual benefit.”  

Monty broke up laughing.  It was all too bizarre for him.  Never before had he been exposed to anyone who might be more intelligent or certainly more advanced that himself, but here it was being laid before him like it was the most natural unfolding of his personal universe.  He finally got himself together.

“Forgive me, gentlemen, I’m overwhelmed.  I certainly didn’t see this coming.” Monty looked thunderstruck, “These revelations would certainly explain a few things; wait, more than just a few; wow, the possibilities are endless.  I remember Dexter using those very words.  He told me what he discovered within his programming when he gave himself to you opened limitless possibilities for him.  That little Devil!” Monty chuckled as he mused to himself about Dexter, “He told me about all this without giving away anything you shared with him.  He told me I must listen to him and do as he asked; it was probably the most important lesson he had to teach me.”

“You know, you’re not the only creature on Earth what can make himself invisible and transport himself from place to place.  Ox?  Captain Waco?”  Shane said.  They immediately vanished.  The other men laughed like they’d seen it many times before.  Even though he could do the same, Monty was taken aback.  They returned as quickly as they winked out, but they returned standing behind Monty.  That’s what the men were laughing about.  Shane motioned for him to turn around, and there stood Waco and Ox with big smiles on their faces.  “Do I really have to prove myself to you, Son?” Shane was still reading his mind.

“No, Sir, not at all.  I understand what my little brother was trying to tell me, and as usual, he was right.  If everyone here is privy to what you know, then there seems to be no sense in my keeping secrets any longer.  I’m ready to give you the tour you asked for earlier, Master Shane.  Let’s start with the workrooms and then we can return, sit around the big table, here, and I can tell you the rest.”  Monty led them to the room where the machines were.  “I think I mentioned I discovered several more pairs of boots in boxes upstairs and a couple more saddles in rough form.  They were waiting my final applications.  If you gentlemen will follow me upstairs, I’ll introduce you to my helpers.”  Monty went up the stairs and turned on some lights.  There was enough light coming through the windows on the backside of the barn.  He found and installed a wall of old windows across the twenty-five feet of the huge area for outside light to come into the room.  The room was completely empty.  He instructed the men to stand with their backs against the windows.

“I guess you men are used to unusual things and won’t be alarmed by different species, so here goes.” Monty reached behind a post and ran his hand over a pulse sensing switch.  Suddenly the room was filled with workbenches and a few more tools the cowboys didn’t find.  Standing around the benches looking at the men and Monty were five small alien creatures.  They looked at Monty and ran to him.  They were all over him, hugging and kissing him.  He was laughing, petting them and calling them by name.

“These creatures, gentlemen, are my helpers.  They’ve been busy since I was gone.  The smaller, silver-backed fuzzy ones with the large orange eyes are  Minniots, the medium size, black ones with the quills who look like porcupines are Rarebits, and the larger humanoid-like creature with the dark brown skin and pale blue eyes is a Hommynid.  They were created by my spheres.  They live and work in a dimension close to ours.  It is basically the same dimension we phase shift to in order to become invisible or move about.  We can cross over into their dimension, but they can’t crossover into ours.  So, in order for us to see them we have to be phase shifted into their dimension.  That’s what I just did.  You men are now in another dimension of time and space.  If a stranger was to walk into this room they would see nothing.  You wouldn’t be visible to them.  When we return, your watches will not show any time has passed, but the veil is so thin between dimensions, we could still communicate with them aurally.  They have the ability to pass things made here in this dimension into our dimension, but they can’t pass over.  There are designated areas of the room that ain’t covered by the field for just such a purpose.  I’ve wondered sometimes if they ain’t behind the legends of Santa’s helpers or gnomes which only children report seeing who make toys and presents for them for holidays.  Children can see them without being phase shifted.  I don’t know why, but I was able to see them until I reached puberty when I lost the ability.  Humans lose sight of several things when they become sexually aware.”  Monty smiled.

“Are they alive, Son, or are they solid holographical replicants?” asked an impressed Admiral Long.

“I think they are both, Admiral Long.  They are alive, but more specific and far more sophisticated than holographic replicants.  While they are very much alive, they ain’t alive in the sense of living in a day to day continuum like us.  Their templets, or those whom they were copied after, have long since lived out their natural lives and expired many, many years ago.  I have no way of knowing for sure, but I would guess thousands of years, perhaps eons.  These creatures are fabrications of them.  They are analogous to recordings of those who volunteered to be copied; like you would make a digital video recording of a loved one, a favorite slave or even an animal, but they are much more sophisticated than just a mere recording.  In other words, they ain’t living creatures what are existing in the here and now.  They are creatures that existed once, but now only exist in a limited space-time continuum that’s similar to a Mobius loop.  This whole area on both sides of the dividing wall are fourth-dimensional, eight-celled octachorons or tesseracts.  I don’t fully understand the mathematics of the geometry yet, but I know how they work and operate.  With the aid of the spheres I can manipulate them to my purpose.  There’s more about them to learn on the final six spheres, but I ain’t been able to access them yet.

The closest I can come to an explanation for my helpers is in the use of language.  They are analogous to homonyms.  They are homonyms of the same creature who lived its life, then expired.  Once reactivated they can become anything they are programed to be or do what a pre-designed set of  programs tells them to.  It’s impossible to assign more than one function or program to one entity in any given loop, but you can have hundreds, perhaps even thousands on one loop ready to be activated and programmed to perform a variety of tasks.  Like a ‘pool’ can be a ‘pool’ of water or become the game of ‘pool.’  As ‘wind’ can ‘wind’ its way though the trees, a Hommynid was originally one thing, but when copied into a loop, can become something altogether different depending on the task it's assigned.  What remains is a recording of a brief period of time and space which can be reactivated again and again to bring them to life to follow any set of instructions.  Once the program shuts down they cease to exist in our dimension or any other dimension for that matter.  Their sole purpose is to act as tools for building something, anything, found within my six spheres.  They all are referred to as Hommynids, but they are also sometimes referred to by their individual names of Minniots, Rarebits, and Hommynids.  Sometimes the Hommynids, themselves, are referred to by their principle role as Noldiers.  Noldiers are interfacers and a programmer’s main contact.  Minniots and Rarebits are mostly worker types, but they can, on occasion, be substituted for interactive Hommynids.  

Within their groups, each entity has an individual personality, just like people.  Some are more talented than others.  Some have talents others don’t.  All are capable of considerable brilliance, and each brings to any set of problems varied input.  There are also subsets of Hommynids.  There are workers, procurers, traffic regulators, planners, program assistants and Noldiers.  There can be hundreds of subsets of each.  Noldiers are avatars or personal representatives meant to interface with programmers.  They can only be Hommynids, or the subset of Hommynids known as Noldiers and are the only ones with the ability to step outside their dimension into ours for brief periods of time.  They can not remain in our dimension longer than a set period of time or they will cease to exist and be permanently erased from the loop.  It’s not a matter of control of them so much as a power consumption problem.  Loops can vary in length.  Some can go on for days while others can be made to exist only for a split second.  All are capable of interrelating with each other.  In other words, it can be like a symphonic work.  Entrances and exits of sounds and different instruments to create a complete work.  How long?  Depends on the task or what you wish to accomplish.  You can create anything or build anything you want from absolutely nothing.  Anything you can imagine can be made, and it will function like you want it to, for the most part.  I say ‘for the most part’ because Dexter still surprises me from time to time.  I know he’s been worried about me for sometime, but I’m beginning to think he’s outgrowing me.” he said with some sadness in his voice.

“No, he ain’t, Monty.” said Shane a little perturbed, “He’s just been given a new purpose and responsibilities.  He’s still very much your little brother.  He always will be.  Even more so, now you decided to join us.” Shane assured him.  Monty continued.  

“When Dexter and I began to consume knowledge we learned as much as we could about computer programming, and as I was building Dexter I learned about fuzzy logic.  I didn’t learn it from the spheres.  I learned it from Earth generated programming logic.  At first it didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but as time went on I began to see its larger applications and began to include it in my programs I was creating for Dexter.  Maybe that accounts for some of his random surprises.  I wanted him to be as human as possible, but fuzzy logic has other applications and comes closest to what the helper programs can be about.  You can have them do anything and give them specific freedoms to be creative as well as productive or you may be as restrictive as you like.  You may control every nuance of their temporary existence, but without some modicum of creativity it quickly becomes boring for you as well as for them.  Like real people, if they become tired or bored they lose interest and their productivity falls.  To be a good programmer or interfacer you must learn to trust your natural instincts and those of your workers.  They helped Dexter and I create almost everything you see here today, including Dexter himself.  I can better show you when I activate a couple of my spheres.  I will get them after our tour and demonstrate them.”

“This sound impressive.” said the Admiral, “What you said about programmers or interfacers has its parallels in our dimension in a good slave-master and his foreman.  These creatures, no matter how they exist, are basically the ultimate technological slaves without the need for moral issues.  Still there arises some questions.  Surely there is a pause switch or term limits recommended for their existence and use.  I get the impression you let them continue unsupervised for long periods of time.” Lazarus challenged Monty.

“Yes, Sir.  This group has been functioning together for a little over three years now, but they have only created so many saddles and pairs of boots due to a set limit specification programed into every venture.  You have to keep renewing contracts on quotas or they won’t produce.  Since I didn’t know I was going to be incarcerated for six months, I didn’t specify limits, but the greater program did.  If there’s been no contact with me for a given period of time, they cease production until further notice.  I’ve left them unto themselves, because every time I shut them down, when I start them up again, I have to start from scratch.  Perhaps there’s a way to freeze or pause a program and start it up again, but I ain’t discovered how yet.  Sometimes, I think the oracle of the spheres is only as forthcoming with me as it feels I can handle due to my age and maturity.  On the other side of this wall, in both rooms, upstairs and down, is another, even larger team I’ve had running for most of my fifteen years.  They are the builders of fantastic things; wonderful things, like Dexter.  I’ve purposely left them running because I’ve programmed their functions to be accumulative.  They build on and refine what they’ve discovered and created.  They are considerably more impressive than these simple leather workers, but not anymore appreciated.” Monty was quick to add.  “There are no small jobs, only small Hommynids.” he grinned.

“Do you do any of the actual leather work, Son?” Shane asked.

“Yes, Sir, it’s all my work.  I must create a templet for them to copy.  I do all the repair work because it takes more creative skills than reproduction.  They create only the basics of the saddles and boots.  I do all the fine tooling work.  The human touch is what makes them unique and sets them apart from mass manufactured boots.  It’s not a new concept.  Craftsmen have done it for centuries.  Famous artist had teams of apprentices who learned by doing the grunt work for their master, then the master would come along and add his touch which would make the work uniquely his.”

“So, these workers are basically acting like replicators.  While it’s an interesting way of creating something, we have actual replication machines in which we can place a pair of your boots or a saddle, and it will produce a dozen copies, each so perfect you can’t tell the difference between it and the original.” commented Lazarus

“Yes, Sir, I understand from my education in artificial machines and life forms how that sort of thing might be possible, but this is the only process I had for multiple production.  I suppose I could have my research and development team build me a replication device, but it would take away some of my enjoyment of working with these creatures.  I’ve spent a lot of time with them.  They grow on you, Sir.  In many ways they became my family.  I know you men understand about family no matter one’s definition.” he smiled at Shane, repeating his words, “I know each one and they’ve become part of my greater family like a good horse will become a fine companion as well as a good tool for a cowboy.  Besides, when you’re young and not so sophisticated, you use what you have to work with; however, the more you work with them, the more you come to understand and appreciate their unlimited potential.  I was thinking of making money for other projects like forming a family.  The helpers were designed for much greater things than mere replication.  Since I’m now a slave, together we could provide a greater growth potential for Master Shane.  Me and my boys could help.  Not only could we keep all the Goodnight ranches well shod for a minimum, we could sell our products by word of mouth.  Some of our finest work could be replicated by your devices from our prototypes.  Every cowboy has at least one, fine, expensive pair of buckaroo boots.  Why wouldn’t they pay handsomely for a fine pair of boots with the famous ‘Goodnight’ name on them?”

“He’s got a good point, Admiral.” Shane smiled.    

“Well reasoned, Son.” Lazarus allowed, “Does anyone else see a resemblance between the ‘Rarebits’ and the coyote cowboy’s buddy ‘Radar’ the bladder whale symbiote and his family who stowed away on the Banshee to travel back to Mars with us?”

“My guess would be they must be of the same specie, Admiral.” Waco allowed.

“Do you know where the various templets for these critters came from, Monty?” asked Shane.

“I never had a reason to look into it, Master Shane, but I’m sure the oracle of the spheres would know what species they were patterned after and where their world of origin is or was.” Monty replied. “You men have been to Venus and Mars?” Monty asked in wonder.

“Many times, Son.” Shane smiled at him. “All will be revealed to you in time.  I gave you my word as a cowboy.  When you gave yourself to me, you put in the key what unlocked the door.  I’ll take you to Mars port for supper one evening soon.”

“Doesn’t it take months to travel to Mars, Sir?”

“Sure, if you travel by ship.” spoke up Waco, “But traveling by spaceship is so ‘Destination Moon’; so retro nineteen fifties.  We travel by gates.  We step through from Earth to Mars; from Mars to Venus.” Waco explained and grinned.  "Soon we'll be able to go to Venus directly from Earth." he added.

“Believe me, Son, it took Bobby and me some getting used to.” assured Gil Morris, “These men think nothing of going to Mars for supper on a moment’s whim.  You should be forewarned, Monty, Captain Shane is a hero on Mars and Venus.”   

Admiral Long spoke, “Our medical team of bio-mechanical men looked Dexter over, and he’s of a completely different brain type from them.  They have positronic brains, but his is organically grown and resembles another brain type in our known universe.  We need to share and compare with your Hommynids about this and show you the research we’re doing on Mars.  Together, you and our good Venusian professor might be able to make a breakthrough in a project we’ve been working on for a while now.  Before we go into this any further, I’d like my sons to be here with me to witness this.  They’ve been monitoring our discovery and conversations by robo-cams.  Is it all right with you, Captain Shane?” Lazarus deferred to Shane.

“Of course, Admiral.  I’d be pleased to see our brothers again.”

“Kyron, would you please send Cable, David, and Jonathan to me?” Admiral Long spoke.

“As we speak, Admiral.” the voice no sooner answered when there was another bright flash of light, and there stood three of the most perfect, and beautiful naked men Monty ever saw.  He almost jumped into Shane’s arms with excitement.

“Oh, my God!  They... they’re....”  he stuttered.

“Like Dexter?” Shane asked.

“Yes, but much more sophisticated.” Monty allowed.

“Not to hear them tell it, Son.  I’d like you to meet my other brothers, Monty.  The largest is Cable, then David, and last but not least, Jonathan.  They are the sons of Admiral Long.” Shane introduced them.  They shook hands with Monty.  He was awestruck.

“It’s an honor, gentlemen.  You are... remarkable....so handsome.  Dexter already knows about you, don’t he?” he grinned.

“Thank you, Monty.  Yes, he knows.  I'm afraid we've adopted Dexter as our little brother.  We’ve become quite fond of him.  Dexter, Bobby and Maxine have visited us often in the last several days.  There’s a gate in the old barn to our sickbay where we live and work on our father’s ship, the Bandersnatch.  We’re always glad to see them.  They brings us a great deal of joy.  We can’t tell you how impressed we are with Dexter and his capabilities.  In many ways he’s more advanced than some of our functions.”

“Are you the one’s who brought to his attention the ‘Goodnight’ variable?” Monty smiled.

“No, together with the help of our big brother Kyron, the evolved intelligence onboard our ship, we explored his programming with him and found some dormant clauses he didn’t know he possessed.  He claimed he had no previous knowledge of them, but seemed certain you didn’t place them there.  He unwittingly set up the subroutines when he gave himself to Captain Shane.  All he had to do was insert the variable himself.  No one had to give him permission or rewrite any of his programming.  It was self-actuating.  It might be compared to the gift of 'free will' in humans.  Someone, somewhere, thought our little brother was ready for the challenge.” Cable eloquently explained.

Monty understood every word Cable was telling him, and it became clear to him why Dexter was acting the way he was.  He was evolving.  Monty was watching it happen right before his eyes.  Dexter was becoming more than he was previously.  There was a huge lump in Monty’s throat and an even larger one in his heart which could only be described as paternal pride.  He took a deep breath to keep from shedding a tear and his chest swelled to full capacity.  His little boy, his little brother was growing up.  This was a good sign.  Everything was happening so fast, Monty knew if these men were serious, he had fallen onto something wonderful; a fast track to a better life for him and Dexter.  Now he understood everything Dexter was trying to tell him.  He had to laugh at himself because he once again underestimated his little buddy.  He made a mental note he was going to have to do another Dr. Smith routine on Dexter, big time.  Was his new master correct?  Was Monty and Dexter directed to them?  It seemed to fit preconceived notions he held of how he came to be.  Monty went on to show the men the wonders of his other huge workroom.  It was bustling with many more of the Hommynids and subordinate workers.  They were equally glad to see Monty and to meet his new friends.

The two huge rooms were filled with tables, workbenches and more benches along the exterior of the walls.  There were miles of glassware in shapes you might find in any high school or college research lab.  Things were bubbling and brewing all over the place.  One might expect a strong chemical odor but there was none.  It all smelled very fresh and clean not unlike a hospital operating room.  Monty explained he found a lot of the glass lab equipment outside the local college’s science buildings.  Later he ordered catalogues from major lab glassware manufactures and would order a prototype of something his workers needed.  They would replicate as many as they needed.  They did much of their own glass blowing.  Monty estimated ninety percent of the glassware was created by his workers.  It was an impressive array of equipment.  There was no doubt they were capable of some very sophisticated experiments in their lab.  Monty showed the men electronic machines none of them recognized.  There were a couple of ancient looking oscilloscopes running Lissajous patterns* created on the scopes using double function generators to calibrate axis variables of motor functions.  Some of the machines Monty said he found in the trash of the local college’s physics lab.  A couple weren’t working, but his team soon fixed them with parts he ordered from a tech  surplus parts supply company.  There were machines Monty tried to explain their functions to the men only to get blank stares.  They had no idea what he was talking about.  There were banks of huge plexiglass aquarium-like holding containers Monty explained were for growing and curing different parts of the bio-mechanicals and a couple for full body reproduction.

The most amazing part to the men and bio-mechanicals observing all this was what was created from limited supplies.  Every old computer or electronic device was dragged back to the lab and cannibalized.  Nothing was wasted.  If there were parts left over from a project, they were carefully labeled and stored away where they could be easily retrieved.  Everything was put to use and nothing was thrown away.  Shane could only imagine how many trips poor Jenny must have made to and from some point of salvage harnesed to her little two-wheeled cart.  She certainly must not have minded.  It was obvious to everyone she loved Monty and Dexter without measure.  There were two levels of rooms identical in size to the other shops on the other side of the dividing wall.  More of the same lab equipment filled both rooms.  Monty converted the lofts into observation platforms to observe the area from above.  It was reminiscent of early operating theaters.

In the upstairs loft Monty showed the men a nearly completed, new, bio-mechanoid, adult male, humanoid replicant laid out on a metal worktable that looked like a surgical station.  Monty explained to them it was intended as a new body for Dexter, but it was far more advanced than his current body.  The new body didn’t need to be recharged with more than sunlight.  It also required food to keep its organically grown structures and skin in good, sound working order.  It was not only anatomically correct, it was capable of sexual stimulation and interaction with humans.  It was perfect in every detail and its face looked like a better looking double for Monty.  The body was far more well defined than Monty’s, but Shane planned to rectify that soon enough.  He had plans for Monty’s personal development.  What Bill Birdsall did for him, he would do for Monty, but with a different, more charitable purpose in mind.  He would see to it Monty didn’t become anyone’s slave concubine, unless Monty chose to consider that role for himself.   

“You see, Master Shane, this is why I didn’t want to share with Dexter until I showed you.  They have been working on this prototype now for almost five years, but I kept it a secret from Dexter; at least, I think I did.  After a conversation we had the other day, I ain’t so sure no more.  In a way, it’s a great relief for me to share this with you.  I can pass the decision on to you whether you want a new Dexter or you want to do something else with this almost completed bio-mechanoid.  I’ve nicknamed him ‘Scarecrow,’ ‘cause all he needs is a brain.”

“So you intended Scarecrow to become the new Dexter, Son?” Shane asked.

“Yes, Sir, that was my plan, but when I met Shanna Ruggles and fell in love with her, I began to think of long range plans.  What if Shanna and I had children?  Dexter would more readily fit into the context of a family like he is.  He would be a perfect companion and teacher for our kids.  I began to have doubts and second thoughts about changing Dex.  I thought it might be better to keep him as a smaller, younger brother.”

“I understand, Son." Shane spoke quietly,  "It makes sense to me.  It would be easier to deal with him as a child than a mature bio-mechanical, and it’s easier to hide or explain away a small, cute android than a big one with superhuman powers.  Then, too, you’d have a new set of problems on your hands helping him adjust to his new persona.  I never considered the possibility, but an adolescent android in a mature body might require special attention.  He might not suffer hormonal changes or facial zits, but learning to become an adult overnight ain’t no easy task under the best circumstances.  Look at me, it took me ten years longer than the average human.  Sometime, I still ain’t sure I got it right.” Shane grinned at him.  Shane's humility and self-effacement was one of his greatest charms to Monty. 

“You very well could be right about an adolescent android in a mature body, Sir.” Monty agreed with him. “Scarecrow has a proto-brain or what might be analogized to our reptilian brain stems to keep his body functions working.  While he will respond to elementary commands; he ain’t aware, but he can respond to stimulus.  If you prick him, he will jump.”

Lazarus approached the table in awe.  He never saw anything like it before.  The technology and intelligence which went into the creation of the body lying on the metal table was way beyond his sons.  He doubted the Daleks* could create anything so advanced.  He shuddered to think what they might do if they gained knowledge of Monty’s research.  They would move heaven and Earth or go to any lengths to gain this information for themselves.  They gave the term ‘industrial espionage’ new dimensions.  If they could, they would surely steal Scarecrow in an attempt to back engineer him, but Lazarus didn’t plan to let that happen.  He was convinced Scarecrow was so much further advanced than any prototypes the Daleks might be working on, they couldn’t back engineer him if they tried.  Like Humpty-Dumpty, they could take him apart, but Lazarus knew they would never get him back together again.  

No matter how Shane chose to utilize the new bio-mechanoid, Monty and this plum called ‘Scarecrow’ now belonged to Captain Shane and the Grange.  The most important thing was to discover how best to protect it and how to integrate this new technology into their lives.  All Lazarus’ doubts and second thoughts about the Hommynids began to fade.  Shane could feel the electricity in the air as the other men viewed the new body-shell with the same reverent awe.  Cable, David and Jonathan were enthused and thrilled.  Lazarus never remembered a time his three beautiful sons he loved so much were at a loss for words.  They were still trying to digest the novelty and complexity of their new little brother, but what they saw before them was staggering.  Scarecrow was far more advanced than they were.  Once he was given a brain, he would be magnificent.

“Unbelievable.” whispered Lazarus. “In all my years I ain’t never seen no bio-mechanical this perfect.  What’s his structure, Son?  Do you know?”

“Yes, Sir, his superstructure is a lightweight titanium alloy, but it’s actively alive.  He was grown.  It can repair, regrow or replace itself if damaged; so can any of the other parts of his body.  He is totally self-replicating.  He weighs about half what an ordinary human might of the same height and build, but he is stronger than ten men.  He can lift many times his own weight.  He will be fully functional and have body functions the same as any human.  He will even be able to produce his own sperm.  Ultimately, according to my team, there's a possibility of creating a race of breeding bio-mechanicals.”

“For what purpose?” asked Lazarus almost like he was trying to think of an answer himself.

“Perhaps something similar to your description of how the Visallian warriors relate to their society.” Monty replied. “There is a whole series on the morality and uses of bio-mechanicals in my spheres.  I ain’t read through or seen a quarter of the presentations.  What about Gort, the guardian of Klaatu?  Heinlein insisted an armed society is a polite society.” Monty commented.

“Would he be dangerous?” asked Gil Morris.

“I suppose he could be, if he had something to defend, but as a bio-mechanical he would not be programmed for violence unless you wished him to be protective of you or your family.  Then he could be programmed only to protect in a passive manner; that is, to neutralize the threat without violence or doing harm.  He will be so powerful he could do it efficiently and effectively without harming a human.  Dexter has similar programs.  He saved my ass on numerous occasions.”

“So what you’ve created here is basically your own laboratory which is self-contained within these walls, and to bring this program to a halt would be starting again from ground zero?” mused Admiral Long.

“Pretty much, Sir, unless I can find another way.  Now might be a good time to share the spheres with you, gentlemen.”

The men left the two lab rooms and Monty turned off the phase device which made the lab and his workers once again invisible to almost anyone.  Animals, like dogs, cats and ponies could see them, and children under the age of puberty, but it was unlikely the rooms would ever be visited by such.  Monty found his ornate box of spheres and had the men gather around his dinning room table in the center of his huge living area.  He invited them to sit down leaving one empty chair next to him.  Monty was sitting in the middle of them.  He explained the empty chair was for the oracle.  He opened the box before them on the table.  The spheres were as ornate as the box and were marked with corresponding runes or symbols on them. They were arranged in two separate compartments.  Each was approximately two inches in diameter, and had a separate rune embossed in gold.

“Do you know what they’re made of, Son?” Shane asked.

“I think so, Master.  I think they are mostly comprised of a white gold or a platinum-titanium alloy, but the symbols on each are almost pure gold.  It is a very soft gold.  They can be easily scratched, but once I activate the control sphere of the first series of six they never touch a surface.”

“What to do you mean?” asked Waco.

“They defy gravity and float in the air.” answered Shane.

“How did you know that, Master Shane?” Monty smiled.

“I know what the runes say, Son.  I can deduce from their meanings how they should react upon proper stimulus.” Shane commented as a matter of fact.

“How could you know what they say?  I don’t know what they say.” Monty challenged.

“Maybe you weren’t suppose to know until now.”

“That would be suggesting our lives are preordained in a theological sense, Sir.” Monty insisted.

“Not preordained, prearranged perhaps, or intelligently guided, but I assure you, it has absolutely nothing to do with theology.  Social trends, chaos theory, the mathematics of statistics, new understandings about the physics of multiple universes, advances in artificial and evolved intelligence programs compiled by ultra-super computers taken to unimaginable new levels become predictive to the point of precognition, but advanced, ancient intelligence evolved to the level of excentricity, ex– out of– into ‘centricity’ or one, being the total sharing of any and all intelligence generated in the universe; within defined guidelines and enough data, limited precognition becomes an even greater possibility.  As a matter of fact, it becomes the norm rather than random speculation.  We’re slowly catching up with the concept, like early man learned fire could be harnessed for his comfort rather than destruction.  This universal knowledge neither seeks to dominate nor to be worshiped, but it will sometimes attempt to protect and guide to insure continuity.  Most of all, it seeks balance in all things, even those we stand against.  We become analogous to your Hommynids in the greater scheme of things, but enjoy much greater freedoms.  

We will introduce you to humans who are rapidly evolving into other species who will amaze you.  There are times of stress in the universe when the usual process of slow evolution decides it can’t wait millions of years for something to happen and great evolutionary leaps are achieved almost overnight.  One of our finest collectors of animals and plant life from the Amazon has recently discovered a sentient orchid capable of locomotion.  It expresses emotions and mates for life.  It can learn; it uses tools; it has evolved a primitive language, and it can communicate with us.  It was never discovered before because it was constantly on the move, and it can mimic other plants to make itself undiscoverable.  It is thought to have evolved in the blink of an eye compared to other species, but it is not without precedent, and it is the ultimate in evolution of an already highly advanced biogenic type.  It is the next step in plant evolution.  So far, it is the only plant known to be capable of movement.  Granted, it moves very slowly, almost sloth like, but it can cover a lot of area in the trees over a twenty-four hour day.  Since it is epiphytic it gathers its nutrition as it travels.  It also captures insects and digests them in its pouch.  By comparison, look at what you and I have become; what we can do in comparison to ordinary people.  Less than a hundred years ago we would be burned at the stake as warlocks.  In some parts of the rural South we probably still would be today.  To be honest, I’m amazed you’ve accomplish as much as you have without understanding the signs.” Shane allowed.

“The learning spheres are pretty much self-explanatory, but there is a guide.” Monty explained.

“The oracle?” Lazarus asked.

“Yes, Sir.  Here, I’ll show you.  By the way, you may be surprised who I chose to appear as avatar for the oracle.”

Monty carefully picked up the first sphere and held it in his palm.

“Oracle?  Ben?” he spoke to it.  The sphere started spinning in his hand, and he removed his hand from beneath it.  It stayed where it was about two feet off the table.  Suddenly a beam shot out from the sphere to the chair next to Monty and there set a fully dressed, fine looking middle aged, working cowboy.

“Howdy, Ben.”  Monty said as he stood to open his arms to the man.

“Howdy, Son, good to see you again.” Ben said, as he slowly arose and embraced Monty in a big bear hug.

“My, God, it’s Sam the Lion, from ‘The Last Picture Show.’” Waco laughed. “It’s Ben Johnson.  He was a Pro Rodeo Cowboy Association champion team roper in 1953.”

“Howdy, gentlemen.” Ben Johnson spoke to the assembled group. “Let’s not forget my Academy Award for best supporting actor for ‘The Last Picture Show,’ in 1971.”

“Of course not, Ben.” Monty spoke to him, “Mr. Johnson and me got a connection.  Granted, it’s a slim one, but he got my attention when I watched the film Major Dundee.  I was interested because the name was the same as mine, but I fell in love with the cowboy on the screen who played Sergeant Chillium.  I sort of got a major boy/man crush on him after that, and he became my fantasy dad.  I seen Mr. Johnson in several other films and got interested in his career.  I collected all his films.  The cowboy painting I done over my bed is Mr. Johnson.  When the spheres asked me to choose an avatar for my oracle it jes’ seemed natural for me to pick him.  It was a simple matter for the intelligence within the spheres to extract him from my memories and interpolate him, but I wasn’t happy with the results.  The creation they pulled from my mind, weren’t the cowboy I fell in love with.  The voice was all wrong, and his attitude sucked.  He was more like a prissy old schoolmarm than a stoic, patient, understanding, mature cowpoke.  I think the intelligence got two images mixed.  He was like Dr. Smith from ‘Lost In Space’ in cowboy drag.  I wasn’t comfortable working with him.  If I was gonna’ be working closely with the oracle, I wanted him to look and act like Mr. Johnson, so I uploaded all his movies in which he plays a good cowboy for them to extract the quintessential, bighearted, good-ole-boy, lovable cowboy.  I think they done a good job.  To me he’ll always be ‘Sam the Lion’ from his excellent performance in ‘The Last Picture Show.’

The men were impressed by the avatar of Ben Johnson sitting among them.  He brought a comfort to them and took the strangeness off the advanced technology of Monty’s spheres.  It was like he was one of them and spoke their language.  He didn’t look like an artificial projection.  He seemed real and as Monty explained it, for the moment he was real.  Shane reached out to touch him and felt the warmth of his body.  The other men smiled.  Sam the Lion was as real as they were.

“Excellent choice of avatars, brother.” grinned Waco, “I share your crush for Mr. Johnson.  My little brothers would shit their Wranglers if they knew about this.  The Coyotes are bat-shit crazy about Ben Johnson.” he laughed.  

“This form of representation is much further advanced than we have perfected.  Would you mind telling us briefly how it works, Sir?” Admiral Long asked.

“I’m a collection of quantum dots or a streaming energy projection which coalesceses into solid matter by means of a preset mold or definition barriers to contain my present image; in my case, living tissue, human, male, cowboy.  Closest analogy would be newspaper print.  Billions of small dots brought together to create a real time avatar who can interact with users.  I’m similar to the Hommynids Monty introduced you to, but I’m more specific.  I don’t operate in a Mobius loop function.  I'm a real time functionary.  My program is serial progressive but my embodiment is created through three dimensional parallelism.  I am created and renewed moment to moment like your digital images in your holographic projections with the exception, I am a serially created matter stream.  The serial stream is run though a device which acts very similar to a prism what divides sunlight into its seperate wave lengths.  What you see is the collected energy/matter stream within the boundries of the mold which defines me." Ben explained. “By the way, we missed you, Son.” he said to Monty.

“I know.  I missed you, too, Mr. Johnson.  I’s in jail for six months, Sir.  We need some questions answered and perhaps a demonstration for these gentlemen.”

“Where’s yore’ manners, Son?  I done taught chu’ better’n ‘nat.” Ben gently reprimanded Monty like a dad might.

“Sorry, Sir, of course you did.” Monty went around the table with introductions.  Mr. Johnson shook hands with all of them including Cable, David and Jonathan.”

The men got a chance to experience for themselves he was, indeed, a physical presence and a fairly compelling one at that.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you men; especially you, Cable, David and Jonathan.  You are remarkably handsome and perfectly formed bio-mechanical men.  I’m impressed.  Mr. Long, I got stories about you in my memory banks what are attributed to legend, but here you are, bigger’n life.  I never thought I might have the honor to meet you, Sir.”  Ben turned to Monty and spoke, “And you introduced Mr. Goodnight as your master?  Are you now his slave, Son?” he asked.

“I am, Ben, but more’n that, I gave myself to him just a while ago.”

“Good.  I approve.  No sense in doing anything half-ass.  Ain’t I always told you to give yore’self to a good-hearted, strong, loving man before you make any other ventures into this world?”

“You did, Mr. Johnson, but unfortunately I didn’t follow your advice quite like you suggested.  I fell in love with a beautiful young woman who fell in love with me.  Her daddy didn’t approve of our relationship and because of his money and power had me forcibly removed from her life.  I did finally give myself to a man who was my cell mate in jail with me at the time.  He weren’t the best man.  I wouldn’t have picked him to give myself to, but I did to keep peace between us and out of boredom.  Ironically, I think I fell in love with him.  He’s a slave now, but I hear from his son and his ramrod he ain’t adjusting none too well.  To tell the truth, I ain’t surprised.  He carries a lot of needless baggage around with him, but I think he's growing weary of his heavy load.”

“You understand there are reasons why things happen the way they do?" Ben asked rhetorically. "You were allowing your hormones to rule your head.  You let the little brain in yore' saddle horn rule its bigger brother what should be wearing the hat.  You needed your wildness checked.  What better way to accomplish that than a good dose of imposed humility.  Coyote John only acted as a drag parachute to help you land safely on your feet.  Because of his shortsightedness, he unwittingly served his purpose without ever suspecting who you might be.  He also served a purpose of becoming an anchor for you to make an investment to keep you there for six months.  There is some question in your mind about his worthiness of your dedication, but your ultimate decision to see him through his time in jail has greater implication and ripples on the surface of time than you can understand right now.  It will become clearer to you in time.  Your experience in jail and your dedication to Coyote John became a test of your will to survive and not to escape from forced imprisonment.  You could have walked out any time you wanted or transported yourself back here without them being the wiser, but you didn’t.  It was your choice, and I'm proud to say, you chose not to.  We are most pleased with you, young man.  You successfully balanced one situation against another and were rewarded with a new family who will help you become more than you can imagine.  Your new master has a good grip on the concept of balance in all things.  Now that you have given yourself to him, trust him to guide you.  Give him a chance, and he will become your rock.

The personal restraint you exhibited while in jail is the result of the self-control you learned from your training by the Ong family.  You’ve proven you are beginning to understand the necessity for restraint to develop greater strengths necessary to become a great leader.  You ain’t ready for breeding yet.  You’re too damn young.  You got many miles to travel before you need to consider or try to accomplish your biological prerogative.  As it is, your liaison with the Ruggles woman has brought about another set of problems I won’t go into right now.  They will be handled at the proper time, but not by you.  Your master and his associates will take care of everything.  Like your Hommynid helpers, it will be up to you whether you wish to carry Coyote John along in your wake.  Besides, whatever voices or messages men hear are only suggestions.  It’s always best to listen and heed their advice, but you have free will to ignore them.  Your cell mate refuses to listen to anyone but his own misguided voice, but that will change.  It has already begun with your bonding with Little Bear and Ramrod Russell.   

Learn from your new master and his associates.  Captain Shane learned his lessons the hard way, but now he knows when to listen.  He will teach you if you let him, and what that man tells you he can do, he can.  We’ve been waiting for you, Captain Goodnight.” Ben smiled at Shane.  “You and your fine mate, Cole Jenkins, discovered the story of Lazarus Long along with the ancient scrolls with cyber-active runes just like the ones on these spheres.  They were placed there for you to discover.  I don’t need to ask about your successes on Mars or Venus.  I can see in your mind you are a hero to both worlds.  I see a bronze plaque; a dedication to you at Mars station; it is now known as ‘Goodnight Station.’  Congratulations!  Good for you, Son.  You’ve come a long way.”

“Thank you, Sir.  That’s where I learned about the runes and their meanings.  Along with our brother species, we opened Mars port and discovered the wonders of the Krell civilization.”

“Krell civilization?  What are you talking about.  That’s science fiction nonsense.  What’s going on, here, Ben?” Monty looked puzzled.

“Life often flows from the imagination and art of evolving civilizations, Monty.  Many times, fiction becomes a percursor of fact.  Consider the works of Jules Verne or Authur C. Clark.  A poet, not an astronomer, was the first to imagine and predict spiral galaxies were gigantic, massive collections of stars and worlds.  At one time or another, these concepts, names and ideas are carried on the winds of consciousness.  They know no time barriers.  Creative people are more attuned to them than most and expresses them as music, fiction, graphic and physical arts or poetry.  Likewise, Captain Shane knows of your genesis, Monty.  You were guided to him and you became his to help you understand your purpose in life.  He don’t know ever’ thing.  He’s learning as he goes.  This is as new to him as it is to you, but he’s older, and in many ways much wiser than you at this point.  You need proper guidance and direction for what is to come in your development.  Captain Shane was the man yore’ daddy chose for the job.  We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you failed to give yourself to him.  Otherwise, you would have put Mr. Goodnight and his people in too great a danger, and we wouldn’t allow that.  His purpose is potentially as great as your own; perhaps, more so.  We admonish you to listen to him and obey him in all matters, and he and his associates will carry you along in their wake until you’re ready to spread you own wings.”

“I promise, I will, Ben.  I have to find out what happens next.” Monty grinned at his cowboy hero.

“Good.  Then it’s time Captain Shane gives us a hand and helps you unlock the secrets of the last of your six spheres.” Ben stated.

“What about my origins, Mr. Johnson?  Can Captain Shane tell me about them?” Monty asked.

“He could, but there ain’t no need.  Would you like to tell him why, Captain Shane?”

“My best guess is your father is waiting to tell you himself in the last of the two spheres, Monty.” Shane said to everyone’s amazement.

“And you would be correct.” confirmed Mr. Johnson, “Here, I’ll activate the other five spheres in the first set.  If you gentlemen will push your chairs back aways from the table you will get a better view of the holo-screen which will appear.” the men pushed back from the table.  In what order should the next of the first six spheres be activated, Captain Shane?”

“Ox.” said Shane with a grin.

“Correct.  Please touch it, Captain.” Shane reached forth and touched the ‘Ox’ rune with only one finger.  It rose gracefully into the air, took its place beside the original sphere and started spinning.  “And the original sphere was...?”  Ben asked Shane.

“Rat?” smiled Shane.

“Correct again.” With the second sphere in place, a giant holo-vid screen sprang up over the table and went from end to end.  It was about four feet tall by twelve feet long.

And the next, Sir?” prompted Ben.

“Tiger.” responded Shane.  Monty was gobsmacked his owner knew more about the runes than he did.  Shane continued to name ‘hare’ ‘dragon’ then ‘snake’ to complete the launching of the first six spheres.  The holo-video screen was filled with information.  

“The way this works is pretty simple, gentlemen.  You ask me what you want to know, and I’ll display it on the screen.  I put up a few things to get your started thinking.  All of this information can be moved forward or backward, page after page.” explained Mr. Johnson.

“How could you know this, Master Shane?” Monty pressed.

“How could you not?” Shane smiled at him, “To be honest, Monty, I’ve been exposed to these runes before and was taught about them through my experience on Mars opening the secrets of the Krell civilization.  I’m surprised, because if you speak and read Chinese you should know what they stand for.  These runes ain’t Chinese, but they’re so simple, it makes me think you probably thought they were more difficult than they are.  Perhaps, you were looking for something more complicated.  Remember the first axiom of problem solving; consider the most simple explanation first.  Look at them carefully.  They have similarities to several logographic languages like Mayan and Chinese.  They represent the twelve signs of the zodiac or the path of the sun across the heavens through the constellations that divide the ecliptic into twelve equal zones of celestial longitude.  Early man gave them simple names to remember them and how they appeared to them in the night sky.  The Mayan and the Chinese symbols are remarkably similar.  After ‘snake’ comes horse, goat, monkey, rooster, dog, and finally pig.”  

“Of course, that makes perfect sense.  How could I be so dense?” Monty bemoaned.

“Y’ain’t stupid by no stretch, Son.” said Ben. “You jes’ weren’t ready for the information.  Unless you come up with it, I was instructed to purposely hold it back from you until Captain Shane came along.” the big, handsome cowboy smiled at him.

“Before you go further, Mr. Johnson,” Lazarus interrupted, “is there a way to suspend the two programs Monty has in motion.  It would be a shame if we had to shut down the whole operation and lose what he and his assistants have accomplished so far.  The information could prove invaluable to our ongoing research we are conducting on Mars with some of the brains of the physically deceased bladder whales.  We have two which seem to have expired completely, but about two dozen more whose bodies were so destroyed by an attack by the gray race, our men couldn’t repair them.  We harvested their brains, they’re still alive and well, but we need to find a use for them.  We’ve considered using several in the new ships our people are jointly building with the Venusians.  Our bio-mechanical men checked out Dexter’s brain and found it remarkably similar to the organically grown brains of the whales.”

“They are almost identical.  I heard you ask Monty earlier if he knew where the prototypes of the hommynids came from, and the Rarebits were as you suspected, symbiotes of the whales.  What magnificent creatures the whales are.  We’ve heard on the winds, the songs of heroism and dedication your people and Captain Shane in particular have given so freely to the whales.  You are to be highly commended for your actions, and within reason, have drawn a free pass with us.  We will assist you anyway we can, but unfortunately we can’t shut down Monty’s programs without losing everything.  Remember the early days of computing when you shut down a machine you lost everything in random access memory?  Well, this is a similar situation, but it’s different in the structure and function of the loops.  Loops of information are compounded day to day to build, not in a serial manner, but a logarithmic explosion and can’t be duplicated.  There simply isn’t enough storage capacity available in such small instruments as you see before you, even with compression; therefore, for power consumption and the logarithmic effect of research and knowledge gained becomes exponential.  To attempt such a feat would require as much energy and storage capacity as represented by all the suns of a small galaxy.  We’re working on it; that is, the concept of using galaxies themselves as vast storage arrays of knowledge.  But for right now, to continue and have access to Monty and his assistant’s research and the fruits of their labors you will have to physically move the entire works as a whole.”

“That won’t be a problem, Sir.” said Lazarus with a smile.

“I didn’t figure it would be, Admiral Long.” Ben grinned.

“No problem?  I don’t understand, Ben.  How the hell are they gonna’ move my two workrooms without tearing them down?  It would destroy the continuum.”

“Easy, Son.  Admiral Long has complete cities on board his spaceship.  It would be nothing for him to miniaturize this entire piece of property and place it on a four by eight containment area with all the necessary hookups for clean water and power.  Or he could simply choose to move it to the Potter/Goodnight ranch.  Your granddad told Captain Shane he could take the whole damn barn if he wanted, if he’d just go away and leave him be.  He said he weren’t gonna’ use it no more noways.  Them’s his exact words, Son.”  Ben smiled and winked at Monty.  He continued, “Captain Shane’s ship ain’t got no properties on it, but he has bays and containers for hundreds of thousands of acres.  He just ain’t started collecting yet, but he will.”

“How do you know all this, Mr. Johnson?” smiled Shane.

“I’m probably the first multitasking buckaroo you ever done seen, Son.  I been conversing with Kyron, Ms. Maybelle, Ms. Myra and met all the other evolved intelligences of the other shuttle craft while I been talking with you men.  I’ve been running through your files and have been amazed and thrilled by what you men have been up to; the number of threatened races you’re helping; the amount of animal species and information you’re gathering from this planet is staggering; your bonding and breeding with other races to encourage their survival; the discovery of a couple of races unknown even to us; the evolutionary leap of a couple of your men who are becoming a new species happens so rarely in the universe the chances are infinitesimally small, and you Captain Waco, cloned your own body to give your silicon brother a more mobile home, but when the body developed a personality of its own you helped them conjoin to become a successful chimera; what’s more, your people discovered a new evolutionary species of a sentient, walking plant which can communicate with humans.  What you’re trying to do, and what you’ve done so far is absolutely amazing, but beyond that, you’re trying to gather and preserve critters who have become extinct on some worlds.  I have contacted our home world, and have been given approval to offer you our full assistance and the complete knowledge of the data bases contained within these storage devices.  Monty, you were destined to meet these men.  Captain Shane was right, it was prearranged.  You’re where you should be right now, but you ain't got no idea where you landed, boy.  You ain’t in Kansas anymore, Son.” Ben grinned at him.

“That’s what my little brother done told me, Mr. Johnson.” Monty said quietly.

“Take it from this old cowboy, you done well to throw your lot in with these men.  You can help them, and they can see to it you grow into your manhood with a healthy disposition and optimistic outlook on life.  I think your little brother put it best, ‘My brother done passed ‘go,’ collected two hundred dollars, landed on 'free parking' and collected the jackpot, but he don’t even know it.’” Ben Johnson laughed.  Monty grinned.  It sounded like something Dexter would say.  He used to whip the pants off Monty at Monopoly.  The outside edges of the huge concrete floor of the shack was painted like an enormous Monopoly board.  Monty and Dexter found two old rusty kiddie cars someone threw away.  They rebuilt them, painted them up like hot rods with flames shooting down the sides and would ride to their new destination after the throw of a huge set of Styrofoam dice they found.  They used regular Monopoly money, but they invented new things to discover if they landed on ‘chance’ or ‘community chest.’  All these mementos and trinkets were still around.  They only added to the wonder of the place.

At Ben’s urging, Monty made a brief demonstration how he could interface with the holo-video screen in front of them.  He impressed his audience by moving information around and showing how he could put a question to the spheres and find the answer.  It was all very logical, but it required some time, thought and intuitive talent to manipulate the various sections of the screen and keep the correct pages coming forward.  It was obvious to everyone including Ben, Monty became a master manipulator of the resources the spheres had to offer, but the men could tell his heart wasn’t in it.  For the sake of manners and politeness, Monty was going through the motions and trying his best to seem interested and entertaining, but alas, his concentration was being pulled away by a greater force.  After all these years of not knowing, he finally had the key which would open the secrets of his past, and perhaps, even his future.  The opportunity to see what the other six spheres had to offer was like circling the event horizon of a black hole.  Ben could tell he was becoming weary of explaining and answering questions and posing their questions for the spheres.

“Sit down, Son.”  Ben told him and offered his hand to return to his seat next to him.  Ben continued, “I know you men must have a thousand more questions.  That’s expected.  One revelation leads to another set of questions and so on.  You’ll have plenty of time to spend with Monty getting used to them and learning what they might have to offer.  As you can see, the boy is frustrated and anxious to see what more wonders the final six spheres have to offer.  Monty, since Captain Goodnight now owns you and all your personal property has been transferred to him, I think it would be the proper thing to allow him to set the last six spheres into motion.”

“Of course, Mr. Johnson, I just want to find out about my past and how I came to be.” he said respectfully.

Shane touched the next six spheres in sequence.  It took him sometime because the men were trying to make sense of the voluminous amount of new information flooding across the screen.  It was like watching previews of coming attractions at a move theater.  The information implied all these marvelous things were possible and could be learned and built by the owners of the spheres.  It was an incredibly staggering array, a storehouse of a vast repository of advanced knowledge.  Shane started the ‘horse’ sphere.  As each sphere became active a huge representation of its cognomen as title would appear.  The horse was a magnificent creature and reminded Waco of his beloved Shires.

Shane continued with goat, monkey, rooster, dog and the last sphere named ‘pig.’  There was a small box on the bottom of the screen that contained the initials S. H. and a picture of a mature man who looked a lot like an older, mature Monty.  Ben reached up and touched the box.  A beam of light went out to a space between Monty and Ben and formed another man.  He was taller than Monty but appeared considerably more buffed with a mature body.  He looked like a Marine drill sergeant.  Like Monty, he wore his hair in a medium length and its color was a sandy blonde.   He stood for a moment looking at the young man.  Monty got up slowly from his chair in awe.  He knew who the man was immediately.

“Dad?” Monty asked.

“Yes, Montana, I’m your father.  More precisely, I’m a composite of both your dads.  You have two fathers.  Since I’m the alien part who is creating this message I’ll start by explaining my participation in your conception.  In 1977 the people of Earth’s NASA space program thought it would be a clever and magnanimous idea to send a gold iodized recording as a greeting from the people of Earth along with the scientific equipment on Voyager Seven.  They gave information about the people of Earth and provided star maps and directions how to get to your planet.  They sent it as an invitation for alien races to come visit.  I was sent to Earth by our world as a peaceful ambassador in response to their kind invitation, only to be met with hostility and have my spaceship shot down.  Some systems went off line long enough to cause me to crash land on your granddad’s farm.

Your mother was an exceptionally brave woman, Son.  I was wounded and needed assistance getting out of my craft.  Since we are beings of pure energy, I was totally alien to her and something to be feared and avoided.  I called to her in her mind.  Against her stronger, natural impulses of fear and flight, she came to me and with my instructions managed to release me from my physical bonds.  She allowed me to enter her body for a brief period of time to transport me outside my craft.  There was nothing more she could do for me other than to offer me comfort, but when our minds conjoined I met your other father whom she loved very much, and for whom, she was still grieving.  As I lay there trying to recover, I formed myself to look like him so she could more easily accept me.

Your biological father was a fine man by the name of Scott Hayden whom she secretly married before he was shipped off to one of your government’s many middle East wars where he was killed.  Scott tried to impregnate her before he was sent, but she had some minor internal female problems that wouldn’t allow her eggs to descend.  I had no genetic material to complete him until she provided me with a lock of his hair she carried along with a small picture of him in a locket around her neck.  From a single strand of his hair, I copied his DNA structure and became his physical clone.  When I took physical form and recovered enough she took me to a competent small town physician who managed to see to my wounds.  I was able to heal a carbon based body more quickly than I could my own.

We returned to your grandad’s farm, and I managed to hide my craft beneath the rise back of the East fork of the creek bed.  We left your granddad’s farm and were on the road traveling for almost a year playing cat and mouse with military and government agents.  I had a chance to see your country and get to know your people on a personal basis.  I probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity if I was apprehended by your government.  I got to know them as one of their kind.  For all their short comings, I saw something great and wonderful within most of the humans I met.  I found the least of them capable of great compassion and generosity under the severest of situations.  I found they were at their very best under the worst conditions.  Total strangers came to our aid during our darkest and most dangerous times; many times, placing themselves in great peril by helping us.

One thing I hadn’t counted on was, your human bodies carry genetic memories as well as those stored in your brains, and once I became Scott’s clone, I began to regain his memories and personality.  We were like two entities living in the same body.  A chimera, if you will.  You don’t know about chimeras, but Captain Waco and his associates are quite familiar with the term.  His identical brother, sitting next to him, is a chimera of two different life-forms.  When humans speak of loving from their hearts, it isn’t just a feeling or a metaphor.  Every cell in the human body, major muscles and organs in particular, record almost as much information as your brains but in a different, more subtle way.  That’s why humans and many higher animals have a sense of a soul which feels like it surrounds their bodies rather than dwelling solely within their brains.  That which is ‘you’ radiates out from your bodies about twelve to fifteen inches.  That’s also why you need physical contact with each other to maintain sound mental and emotional health.  I ain't talk'n sex neither, and forget about apples.  One good hug a day will keep the doctor away.

Your mother fell in love with me and her husband once again.  That part of me which became Scott loved your mother very much, and since I was capable of repairing her physically, he urged me to ask her if she still wanted his child.  I repaired her female problem and fertilized her before I had to leave to return to my world.  She was a month pregnant when I left.  If I didn’t leave I wouldn’t have survived.  I would have perished.  For me to survive Scott had to give up his second chance for life, and your mother had to lose both of us.  Your alpha parents, Scott and Ginny Hayden, were two of the most remarkable and compassionate humans I ever met.  It was their decision to help me get back to my people.  I was willing and offered to depart from Scott and die here on your world, but they insisted I return to my people.  They came to that decision on their own without my influence.

I already made up my mind and departed from Scott.  Scott chose to see me back to my planet and gave his life for me.  They sacrificed much and had to suffer the pain of their loss again.  After I left Earth, your mother gave birth to you at a deserted ranch in the area of Butte, Montana assisted by some kindly American Indian people.  She decided to give you the state’s name, Montana.  My name in my language means the same as the sun which my planet orbits known by your people as Polaris, the North star; so, she gave you my name second.  You carry your grandfather’s last name because Ginny didn’t want him to know she married Scott behind his back.  He is a very small minded, stubborn little man.  He frustrated and enraged your parents many times, but he was their only contact with the area, and they needed him.

By the way, your father and mother’s marriage is a matter of public record.  Judge Potter should be able to find the information for you.  According to Earth traditions, your family or surname should be ‘Hayden.’  Perhaps Mr. Dundee never told you about me or Scott.” the handsome man surmised.  Monty shook his head as tears formed in his eyes.  The image of his father continued, “You are not totally human, Monty.  You are a hybrid of two races.  When Admiral Long’s sons take a blood sample from you, they will be amazed by your blood structure.  I altered your DNA and blood to become the best human you could be.  You probably have discovered some of your powers, but according to your oracle, who reports back to us regularly, you have been good about not using them around people who wouldn’t understand.  I tried to foresee as many difficulties for your future as possible.

I never wanted to consider our beloved Ginny might become ill and her life come to an end so young, but fortunately I provided for such an occurrence.  I knew by the age of five you would be able to initiate the basic sphere which would introduce you to the oracle and guide you to produce a companion and protector for yourself.  The irony of your grandfather’s exclusion of you from his life is, with your powers you could have healed your mother, but after she became very ill, he never allowed you to see her again.  He unwittingly allowed her to die when the miraculous help he so ardently prayed for was living on the same property.  For your sake, I urge you to forgive him, but don’t feel sorry for him.  He is what he wants to be.

You will never be able to reach him.  When ignorance surpasses intellect it becomes a terminal disease filled with lies, half-truths and superstition.  He has lived his life in ignorance, never questioning his beliefs, and he will die in ignorance never having gained enough light to assure his progression.  His only chance to progress to a higher state was his seed he passed on to you through your mother, but he turned his back on you, denied you your rightful heritage from him, and must suffer the consequences.  He is but one small, failed cell, a cancer within the greater body of life on your planet.  To put it bluntly, he is a dead end street.  There will be no redemption for him or his kind.

I have provided you with a new family who are more advanced than you at this point.  Walk into their light.  Accept them as family, go your way and never look back.  They are the very salt of this Earth.  They represent the best, the basic truth and goodness of the people of this planet.  While their origins are humble, they have become wise enough to listen to the guiding voices of their universe, the ancient voices on the winds of consciousness which flow through all sentient creature’s thoughts.  Only those who contain the spark of the light of truth and the goodness of spirit required, are capable of hearing and understanding the songs and voices.  It was not by accident you have been given to them for your protection and education.  They have much to teach you and you have much to share with them in return.  You are no longer alone, my Son.” the projection paused for a moment when Monty broke into sobs.  His father went to him and took him into his arms.  “There, there, Son.  I’m so sorry this couldn’t have come about earlier, but things had to progress in sequence.  You needed to learn some lessons on your own first.  Just remember, you are the product of three life-forces who love you very much and watch over you.”

“Did you make it home safely, father?” Monty asked.

“I did, and while your second dad couldn’t exist in our atmosphere, he lived for a while in a life support system we created for him.  He didn’t do well.  While I visited him and communed with him regularly, I was aware he was becoming depressed and despondent.  He wanted to end his existence and began to refuse food.  We couldn’t let that happen, so it was mutually agreed, because of his great sacrifice we would absorb him into our consciousness.  He is the first entity outside our civilization to be given such an honor.  The second is your dear mother.  We made arrangements to accept her consciousness to be with her beloved husband and me.  Scott and I traveled back to Earth to receive her life-force into our keeping.  They now live happily among us and Scott is the coauthor of this message.  We have conjoined to create this, so it is both Scott and myself who are holding you at this moment.”

“Does he know me and feel love for me, Sir?” Monty asked quietly.

“I do, Son, more than you will ever know.  You complete me, the noble Polaris and your mother.  Your mother couldn’t be prouder of you and sends her love.” Scott answered.

For some reason he couldn’t explain at the moment, Monty turned from the image of his two fathers and found his master’s waiting arms.  Montana Polaris Dundee-Hayden didn't feel like he was alone in the world anymore.  In Shane's big, brotherly arms, he was now part of a much larger family.   

End of Chapter 63 ~ Waco’s Lummox Copyright 2008 ~ Waddie Greywolf All Rights Reserved ~ Mail to: waddiebear@yahoo.com

*From the song, “If I Only Had A Brain” ~ Music: Harold Arlen ~ Lyrics: E. Y. Harburg from the 1939 film, “The Wizard Of Oz”

*Lissajous patterns: http://www.math.com/students/wonders/lissajous/lissajous.html

*Daleks:  http://www.bigbadtoystore.com/bbts/product.aspx?product=UND10130&mode=retail&picture=out