Chronicles of the Flying Dolphin

Their katana and wakazashi were hilted and sheathed in ivory. Their cross country skis were alpine camouflaged white. The pipe of pelican bone they shared and the smoke that escaped it seemed to have been made of the same glacial ice upon which they had landed.

In sharp contrast were their four piercing red pupils, the twins' obscenely painted lips, the glow of buds in the pipe's bowl and the smear of lipstick on it's stem. An omen of blood not yet spilled in this windswept wasteland.

Or, at least they hoped no blood had yet been spilled.

Stoked on the bowl of buds the sisterclones belayed themselves and began the technical descent to the plain below. They had chosen a chimney in the face of the glacier as their rout and hoped to reach the ledge two thirds of the way down before they would have to rest. Even protected as they were from it's full force, the fierce wind threatened to tear the twins from the chimney and dash them to bits on the ageless ice.

Three things pressed them on; A spiritual agreement that only twins might understand, confidence born of climbing rock for sport, and the peculiar dedication to the Princess that all who knew her felt. And so they overcame the obstacles and safely rappelled to the first objective.

Here they passed the flask of schnapps and surveyed the scene below through oil filled binoculars. The ruins of the temple to which Kristal had been on pilgrimage to were scarcely discernable through the flurries. But a fix on them lent new strength to the two, and with a final pull on the flask they set new ropes and were off down the ice once more.

At the instant Lilith landed on the talus they heard it; and they knew what it meant. Lilitu landed silently beside her sister - her long sword drawn and ready. But the Tundra Bunnies were still far away. In the direction of the ruined temple.

Across many realities from this planet's dark side, in Atlantis, Fractal had laughed aloud when he first heard of the beasts,

"Tundra Bunnies? They sound like scantily clad serving wenches at some yuppie ski resort!"

But Tundra Bunnies are both less and more than that. Carnivorous marsupials peculiar to this world, they are the demons of this world's ice plain, weighing in at over an hundred kilos. They have a mouthful of teeth and can leap as far as they can see. Although they are basically cowards, they are not to be fucked with.

Still wearing their climbing harnesses they clamped into the skis and struck out across the waste looking more than ever like phantoms in the eerie light. For the irregularly shaped satellites that serve this world as moons cast uneven albedo. This night only three of them were on the planet's dark side, and an ice storm was coming.

By the time the Lillies had reached the edge of the ruins, infrared circuits in their goggles revealed a ring of fairly large warm bodies moving with them. And closing in.

There have been more theories about where man eating marsupials came from than I can remember hearing. The one least believed is that they migrated here from somewhere else. They are adapted to see better in dimmer light (is that an oxymoron, too?), and they are a perfectly neutral grey. In a pack this large, they are not an easy foe to face or overcome.

But face them the twins did, working toward the center of the temple circling each other back to back with a sword in each hand, as the great sansei Musashi would on another world only a few realities removed from this one.

And overcome them, they must. Kristal is out here somewhere, maybe hurt, and practically unarmed.

One of the twins - it was impossible to tell which one - felt her sister tense at her back, and knew something other than a mere Tundra Bunny had caused the alarm. They exchanged places hardly an heartbeat out of synch, as though it had been choreographed. Without speaking, a simple dialogue had taken place,

"Kristal!"

"Confirmed."

In the time that it took them to think these things into each other's minds, they were knocked to the ice as one by an huge, hungry bunny. I know that sounds stupid, but that is what they're called. They disemboweled the beast and rolled out from under it on opposite sides, and then the bunny lost it's head. Before the head stopped rolling, the scent had driven all the bunny's buddies into a frenzy. Our heroines hardly had time to launch a pair of parachute flares before they were set upon by all the hungry cousins. These animals are such great cowards that they only attack in packs. And although they are cannibalistic, they are also too stupid to reason the fresh meat they smell - and leap over to attack live prey - would not thin the heard so badly as the albino amazons with their thirsty swords.

Slipping in the steaming entrails, and fighting the impulse to vomit, it was Lilitu that worked her way to the Princess first. But a malevolent misshapen marsupial had positioned itself between Her Highness and her rescuer. Sheathing her wakazashi, she held her katana high above her head in both hands and charged. As the possessed predator leapt, so did the space pirette, taking off both forepaws in mid air, and landing to spin and decapitate the howling mutant in one motion.

Once both of the twins were standing over Kristal, the attack ceased and the animals began feeding on their own dead, fighting among themselves for the choicest parts.

Kristal was alive. But only just. Hypothermia had set in and it was a reality that she might not survive the return trek to the Flying Dolphin. They carefully circumvented the Tundra Bunnies and devised an escape.

Lilitu and Kristal lay wrapped in the furs on a sled rigged from the skis while Lilith pulled like a big dog across the dunes of snow. When she felt chilled and weak she traded places next to the Princess, and Lilitu pulled. They reversed roles as fatigue dictated, until they reached the face of the glacier.

There they continued to work in shifts. One would use the mechanical ascenders to reach a ledge, rest for a moment, then haul up her sister, who was cuddling with the unconscious Kristal. Then they would trade places again. It took a long time, but it was the best way to get Her Highness back to the Flying Dolphin.

Naked in the centertube, Kristal - who was usually olive brown - more closely resembled the twins' pigment deficient dermi. They shot up the tube to the medlab and filtered her blood through warmers, attempting to save any damaged tissue by warming her from the inside out. As they worked, they secured a media-link to Fractal in Atlantis.

The Privateer's holo appeared on the link as though he had not slept in days. In fact, he had not. At first he had been pissed off that those two white bitches had stolen his spacecraft (again!). Then he found out why, and felt guilty about having been out on safari when Kristal' distress sig had flashed. Since then, he had made himself crazy worrying over his beloved matriarch.

"Is she O.K.?"

Was all he wanted to know.

"She will be now..."

The twins took turns recounting every step of the rescue and recovery, feeding Fractal Kristal' vital signs every time they fluctuated to any minute degree. He, in turn, asked leading questions and helpfully suggested perilous shortcuts through realities to expedite their return to Atlantis.

Perilous or not, his advise was taken. There was no finer inter-reality navigator in the Forbidden Sector than Fractal. The two albino amazons knew as well as he did that the atmosphere of Atlantis would do as much to aid in Kristal' recovery as all the medical techniques that would ever be known.

Precious nanoseconds spun by like the G force of a guillotine. And it was Kristal' sweet, pretty neck that was on the chopping block.

A brief reality or three later Fractal fed her stir fried vegetables with chopstix as they soaked in a cauldron-like oak hot tub. The scars on her shoulder were already beginning to fade thanks to the twins' subtle skills with sutures and the bright sun of the Atlantian summer. She was healing even more rapidly than even the optimistic Xero had dared to hope.

"You're a lucky lady, Princess... Or, is that, 'You're a lucky princess, lady?'" the Privateer half teased.

But Kristal was in no joking mood.

"Is most love luck," she philosophized, "Is twin of love sisters to be ice and monsters fighting to save me through and up carry, is of Xero too love medicine herbs for all of, is special love to nurse with and sleep my Privateer this all time."

And who could argue with such sentiment? Not Fractal. He too owed his life more than once to the love of brave and beautiful friends.