Destinations 7.

“The high grass, the majestic tree. Do I remember well? Don, where are we? Tell me.”

“Seems that the default destination for getting us out of there is the pulsar PSR J1903+0327. Look down, through the floor, at seven o’clock. That would be the tree of Nok. Rather the roots of it. Dunno.”

“Oh Nok, the blue blooded avatar of Enoch. Oh Nok, how much I love you, Nok! Aaah--”

“Spare your orgasms, Doris. I suspect that there’s more business waiting for us.”

“You suspect or are you sure?”

“I am sure about suspecting that the five lasses guarded by Eli and Nok inside this pulsar will be the object of our new business.”

“Nav, Ner and Num are the wives of Nok – rightfully enjoying the shadow of their husband’s tree. How about the other two? No! Oh no! Don’t you tell me.”

“Yes. I do. The other two are Dag and Day, the beautiful pale widows of Don and surviving sisters of Dor.”

“Our prior family. Oh my. And what would be our business with them?”

“Let me lock the pyramid to the North Pole first.”

Fixating the golden tent in the very place where he initiated it, Don takes the hand of Doris in his before they beam down, not too far away from the Tree of Nok.

“Ouch, this grass whips my buttocks. Can you make us levitate, Don, please?”

“Whiny Doris is back!” The voice of Day fills the air like a quartet of bronze bells at noon. “No need to stress your mind with levitation, my lord. I’ll be happy to carry you both in my palm. If you allow me.”

“Doris, shall we?” Speaks Don, holding her hand a bit tighter while giving her a confident look. “Day wants to help.”

“I know, I know. I’ve learned to read her mind.” Doris steps in Day’s palm and keeps ranting. “We’ve been terrible rivals. We’ll be best friends. Ain’t that so, sister Day?”

“Don’t push your luck with me, little Doris. You may have fixed your pride problem, in your journeys. I didn’t change much, in my waiting.”

“But you will, after my next journey.”

Day shuts up, allowing Doris the last word.

“Hum, funny,” chimes Don in, “last time I checked--”

“Shhh!” Day brings her palm – the platform on which Doris and Don stand – closer to her mouth. “You are not the only tiny humans inside the sphere. The others are behaving way better than you do. What am I saying here? There is no comparative term. Will you act like adults? Will you stop putting our family, our Tree – your Tree, master Don – in such a ridiculous light? Will you both behave?”

“Oh my, she’s quite upset.”

“Keep your mouth shut, little Doris!”

“Last time I checked, Day had the last word. Same old, same old.” In no spoken words, Don messages his little wife – telepathically.

“I can read your thoughts. I enjoy having the last word. You shut up now!”