Free In Search of the Alter Dom by Jack Challis

Blodwyn; feeling more confident now.
    ‘Are you their kin – a three heart, asks I?’ enquires the Dog-Rill.
    ‘No,’ replies Blodwyn, ‘I am under the protection of their Queen Angharad!’
    The Dog-Rill’s toothed mouth fell open. ‘Queen Angharad protects you!’
    ‘Indeed Sir,’ replies Blodwyn. The Dog-Rill scratched itself nervously and took a quick look around – sniffing the air and pausing for thought.
    ‘You say Lings – but I say where? I see not – smell not Lings,’ answers the Dog-Rill suspiciously.
    ‘They seek nectar on the dark side,’ answers Blodwyn. ‘How do you know of the Lings Noble Sir?’ She had the upper hand for the moment.
    ‘We Rills once lived on Earth, answers I – the Lings also visit Rilla when traveling to False Arcadia – on Quilla Prime!’
    ‘You know of Quilla Prime ! Y ou are well informed Sir,’ flatters Blodwyn.
    ‘Indeed – Quilla Prime is on the other side of the Lupus Wormhole – in the Alpha Centauri Quadrant – which be in the next Galaxy – don’t you know?’
    Blodwyn’s heart fell through her stomach. “That lying cow Myfanwy! If she had mentioned another Galaxy – I would not have even considered this quest! I will never get back to Earth!” She composes herself. ‘Do you know any of the Advanced Races ?’ Blodwyn asks.
    ‘Their battleships arrive under cloak, or under mask. They all come to steal minerals,’ complains the Dog-Rill angrily. ‘We Rills once lived here in thousands. Till one day we killed a mandrill-faced Dandy -Indra .’
    ‘Did you eat the dead Dandy-Indra?’ Blodwyn asks to confirm her suspicions.
    ‘Indeed, says I…. tis our right…. to eat the dead and dying – don’t you know!’ A chill ran down Blodwyn’s body – “the Rills are the butchers!”
    ‘The Dandy-Indra war-fleet returned and bombarded us,’ continues the Dog-Rill, ‘we Rills are only few in number now.’
    Blodwyn put on her most sympathetic face – the type undertakers adopt as soon as they open the gate.
    ‘Be that a powdered wig you wear? asks I’.
    ‘Certainly not – it’s my natural hair,’ answers Blodwyn. The powder on my hair is wind-blown moon-dust.
    ‘Tis a crying shame says I – for I truly desire a powdered wig!’
    Blodwyn could see that the Dog - Rill was becoming nervous – constantly looking around and sniffing the breeze; was he contemplating mischief? She had to place him in a dilemma!
    Blodwyn hated telling lies but: “When needs must – the devil rides,” her life depended on it! Crossing her fingers, she continues. ‘When the Lings bring me back to Rilla in seven Earth days, I will bring a fine wig – I will powder it myself – a wig just like the King wears!’
    The large Dog-Rill’s wide grin fully exposed his vicious sharp teeth! He pauses; thinking of such a prize acquisition! The Dog-Rill slowly backs over to the plastic bag. Opening it, he displays his loot, comprising all kinds of bling, past and present. ‘Bring me the powdered wig – in exchange for all these treasures.’
    ‘Really – thank you,’ answers Blodwyn, now ready to ask the most important question. ‘Have you seen the Alter Dom?’ she asks casually: as if asking the time of day. The Dog-Rill looked at Blodwyn as if she was mad! ‘The Alter Dom does not bother with Low Primitives like Rills – or Terasils !’
    Blodwyn was angry – why were humans classed alongside the Rills ! ‘Have you ever seen the Alter Dom?’ Blodwyn persists.
    ‘He passes overhead – causing a sand storm – that fills our burrows!’
    ‘Do you know where he is?’ Blodwyn asks.
    ‘Know not I or care not I. Now, I must leave for the main burrows, of Spittlefields,’ announces the Dog-Rill. ‘Remember, seven earth days – the powdered wig.’ Bowing courteously, the large Dog-Rill slipped on the over-large, new trainers. Quickly turning he places his hat over his rear. The Dog-Rill was pleased, for in seven Earth days he would have his powdered