Milo Moon by Derek Haines (classic literature list TXT) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
It all ended after World War Two. Or so it was thought. While medical and physiological experimentation on humans was repugnant and against all sensibilities, it remained valuable and above all highly profitable. Just simply believing something had gone away was good enough for most. Not for Milo Moon and Mary Seaton, who became proof of an international conspiracy to hide the truth. Simple and childish they may have been, but they held a history in their beings that was a threat to international political stability. For the Swiss government faced with such a discovery on their soil, the art of politics necessitated compromise and calculation to find a solution. A viable outcome that gained maximum political benefit of course; which is the habit of seasoned politicians. However, above all this had to remain a secret and be buried again behind the walls of political cloak and dagger, secret services and a need to protect the sensitivities that we call modern history. Therefore, it never happened.
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- Author: Derek Haines
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had always said ‘down’ to it. Then he thought it would be natural to add syndrome to down as he had heard this expression a lot, but never knew what it meant. So he called his cat Down Syndrome. Then when he had to take his cat to the vet for its shots and told the vet his cat’s name, he discovered that it was not a popular name. The vet said it was not a nice name at all to call a cat. In fact the vet was most upset and threatened to report Milo for cruelty. So Milo abbreviated the name to Cindy.
George was thinking if his wife would still be speaking to him when he got back. He just recalled that it was their wedding anniversary the day before yesterday. He hoped her memory was as bad as his. But doubted it.
“Can I ask you something George?”
“Sure Milo.”
“Am I real?”
“Oh, really sorry Milo. That is something that is planted in your chimeryon imagination. To keep you happy.”
“So what does a formyon look like?”
“Well Milo. Sort of like you, but with more eyes and a few other improvements.”
“Improvements? Sorry?”
“Relax Milo. Enjoy the trip.”
“Did I get around to telling you that I think Wednesdays are really not nice days at all.”
“Can’t recall you did Milo.”
“Well, from my experience they are George,” Milo said with conviction.
Milo noticed that from time to time both he and George drifted into almost transparent states. Then drifted back into into fully opaque forms. He was going to ask, but realised that after all that had happened in the last sixty minutes it would be quite silly to ask. He looked at his left wrist and was surprisingly reassured to see the glowing viper still firmly gripping its own tail with its teeth. Had it been two hours ago, he wouldn’t have found it so reassuring.
“So how long have you been in this line of work,” Milo asked in a manner that sounded cool, but smelled of desperation and mild panic.
“Over thirty years Milo. Due for a desk job soon I hope.”
“Pension?”
“Of course.”
“Right,” Milo said and silence returned for some minutes.
“Don’t worry Milo. I’ve done this trip a thousand times. You’ll be fine. Just a few minor adjustments and you’ll be right as rain. I promise.”
“How many more eyes George?”
“Oh, only one. No big deal.”
“Where?”
“Oh Milo. You are full of questions. In the back of your head. Where else would you expect?”
“Sorry George.”
Milo thought about asking more questions, but sensed George was getting quite fed up. He started to think about his cat instead. He hoped his encephalon come chimeryon replacement knew how to care for cats. He also hoped he could iron.
“Good year ladies and gentlemen. If I could ask you to prepare for re-materialisation,” an announcement announced from seemingly nowhere. “Please be ready to block your ears with your thumbs and your nostrils with your little fingers very soon.”
“What happens if I don’t?” Milo asked George.
“Your head explodes into micro dust.”
“Think I get the idea. Thanks.”
Milo noticed that he and George and everything in their elevator looking cabin was starting to go very transparent again. He had the feeling something was going to happen soon. He could see that George had his thumbs in his ears and his little fingers firmly up his nostrils. He thought he should probably do the same.
“Please assume your dematerialisation position ladies and gentlemen,” the kind and somewhat sexy sounding female announcement announced. “We must inform you that your failure to assume the dematerialisation position could lead to serious heath risks including reduction to cosmic dust.”
“Sounds serious,” Milo tried to joke with a voice that replicated someone with a serious head cold. His thumbs and little fingers firmly lodged in his ears and nostrils.
“It is,” George answered in the same head cold sound just before a rather large thud and grating noise indicated that their arrival was probably underway.
There was a minute or so of almost complete transparence that really freaked Milo out, but then all returned to a comfortable normal opaqueness and he felt a lot better. He looked at his watch. A little difficult with his current finger and thumb position, but he managed. Eleven-thirty-five am. And still Wednesday. That really explained everything.
“Please wait until the materialisation light is illuminated before resuming full resumption of existence,” the same kind of somewhat sexy sounding female announcement announced. Milo felt a little reassured.
“So, we’re here then?” Milo asked George.
“You could say that,” George said, as Milo noticed George had changed a little.
“You’ve got scales!” Milo half screeched.
“Welcome to reality Milo.”
Welcome to Reality
“Wake up Milo. We’ve got to disembark,” George said as he gently slapped Milo’s face.
“What happened?”
“You feinted.”
“You’ve still got scales!” Milo said, but this time with a little less panic in his voice.
“I know Milo. So have you.”
Milo looked at the back of his hands and immediately noticed that his skin was now composed of very small light blue scales. More like fish than snake or lizard he thought just before he feinted again. George started all over again in trying to wake Milo up, and wondered why he continued in this job.
“Ladies and gentlemen. This is your automated cabin supervisor speaking. Please leave the beam transporter by your side exit door immediately. Dematerialisation will begin in four minutes. We remind you that we take no responsibility for lost hand luggage, bodies or body parts after the red dematerialisation warning light is illuminated. Thank you for your understanding.”
George man-handled Milo to his feet and managed to get Milo’s semi-conscious body near the exit door. He pushed the button and waited for it to open.
“Right, come on Milo. Let’s get moving,” George said as he walked Milo through the door.
“George?”
“Yes, Milo?”
“I can see where I’ve been,” Milo said as he suddenly realised he could see the Welcome to ARC sign in front of him at the end of a white hall, and at the same time, the door closing behind him.
“So you’re awake then Milo?”
“Almost,” Milo said with no sense of surety whatsoever.
“Good. Now let’s get through the EVR procedure and we can be on our way.”
“Silly question I know George. But what is an EVR procedure?”
“Exit Virtual Reality.”
“So by that you mean we are not in real reality just yet then?”
“That’s right Milo.”
“So. Eh, that means? What exactly?”
“You’ll be de-scaled soon.”
“Did I tell you that I don’t like Wednesdays George?”
For something that sounded very complex, returning to reality was really a very simple process. George and Milo walked the length of the white entry hall. Six doors were located at the end of the hall with signs above each door.
RE-ENTER HERE
Each door shimmered slightly, and had a silvery, almost watery translucent look to them. They were numbered from one to six, but in a jumbled order.
“Why are the doors numbered five, three, two, one, four, six George?”
“It’s the date today Milo.”
“Am I asking too many questions?”
“Yes.”
George ushered Milo into door three and George went though door six. Milo had never been in a front loading washing machine, but imagined the sensation he was feeling after entering the door must be very similar. He was floating in a gassy liquid and turning head over heel, spinning and twisting, but never touching the sides of whatever he was in. He couldn’t see any walls, edges, floors or anything that resembled firmness. At first everything was a very pale green. Then a pale blue and now turning to a vague off-white sort of colour. He could only think that these colour changes indicated a change in cycle. Wash, rinse, soften.
Milo tried to look at his watch, but the face was blurred. He thought he had been spinning for a few minutes now, and was rather hoping it would stop soon, as he was starting to feel a little nauseas. Luckily, before his nausea could manifest itself, he noticed that he was now almost upright, and starting to be lowered. He wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling of being lowered. Difficult to know exactly when you have no concept of up, down or sideways. There was a green light flashing just above his head just as an announcement was made.
“Please move forward, and watch your step. Welcome to ARC. We wish you a pleasant return to reality.”
Milo carefully put out his left leg in an attempt to start walking, and was surprised to find some solidity below his foot. His right foot made the same conclusion. As did the left again immediately after that. He noticed that the gassy liquid was dissolving away and very soon found himself standing next to George again.
“Alright Milo.”
“Um. Yes. I think so.”
“Good.”
“George?”
“Yes?”
“Where have your scales gone?”
“They protect your matter when you are in beam travel.”
“So, I’m not a fish then?”
“No Milo. You’re not a fish.”
“But I can still see behind me.”
“Yes Milo.”
Milo turned and tried out his new eye but found turning in circles made him dizzy, so he tried nodding his head up and down instead. Like anyone with a new toy, there was a certain novelty in having rear view, and Milo found it fascinating to he able to bend his head down and look at the floor and at the same time see the light fitting in the ceiling. Then he turned with his back to George and was astounded at the clarity of his new found third eye. George clearly needed a shave. He was about to think why his new eye didn’t need glasses when he made another remarkable observation.
“George?”
“Yes Milo,” George responded in a tone of voice that was exhibiting the early signs of being totally fed up with being continually asked silly questions.
“I’m wearing blue jeans, a black t-shirt and grey blazer.”
“You’re also a little taller and you’re wearing different glasses Milo. Anymore questions?”
“Yes George. Just one,” Milo said. “Is it lunch time? I’m quite hungry.”
“I’m sure there’ll be something in your refrigerator.”
“Eh. Sorry George?”
“Come on Milo. I’ll help you find a taxi.”
“You’re not coming with me George?”
“No Milo. I have another two collections to make today.”
“So what will I do?” Milo asked as they walked towards the front of the taxi line.
“Get on with life Milo. Get on with life!”
“But how will I know what to do?”
“You’ll be fine Milo. The jump from chimeryon to formyon will take you a couple of days to get used to. But don’t worry. You’ll be fine. It’s not your first time you know.”
“What? I’ve done this before?” Milo asked somewhat surprised.
“Milo, you have been from encephalon to chimeryon to formyon countless times.”
“So why can’t I remember doing this before George?”
“I told you before. You get wiped each time.”
“So I am going to be wiped again soon huh?”
“Now I think you understand Milo. Look, here’s a taxi. Jump in,” George said as Milo less than confidently got into the taxi. “Twenty-two Brown Street thanks driver.”
“But that’s my old address at home!” Milo yelled at George from the taxi.
“Have a nice day. Oh and life Milo. See you again someday maybe,” George said just before the taxi pulled away. Milo didn’t need to turn his head to see George going back into the ARC Welcome Centre. Presumably to set off on another collection.
“Been great weather the
George was thinking if his wife would still be speaking to him when he got back. He just recalled that it was their wedding anniversary the day before yesterday. He hoped her memory was as bad as his. But doubted it.
“Can I ask you something George?”
“Sure Milo.”
“Am I real?”
“Oh, really sorry Milo. That is something that is planted in your chimeryon imagination. To keep you happy.”
“So what does a formyon look like?”
“Well Milo. Sort of like you, but with more eyes and a few other improvements.”
“Improvements? Sorry?”
“Relax Milo. Enjoy the trip.”
“Did I get around to telling you that I think Wednesdays are really not nice days at all.”
“Can’t recall you did Milo.”
“Well, from my experience they are George,” Milo said with conviction.
Milo noticed that from time to time both he and George drifted into almost transparent states. Then drifted back into into fully opaque forms. He was going to ask, but realised that after all that had happened in the last sixty minutes it would be quite silly to ask. He looked at his left wrist and was surprisingly reassured to see the glowing viper still firmly gripping its own tail with its teeth. Had it been two hours ago, he wouldn’t have found it so reassuring.
“So how long have you been in this line of work,” Milo asked in a manner that sounded cool, but smelled of desperation and mild panic.
“Over thirty years Milo. Due for a desk job soon I hope.”
“Pension?”
“Of course.”
“Right,” Milo said and silence returned for some minutes.
“Don’t worry Milo. I’ve done this trip a thousand times. You’ll be fine. Just a few minor adjustments and you’ll be right as rain. I promise.”
“How many more eyes George?”
“Oh, only one. No big deal.”
“Where?”
“Oh Milo. You are full of questions. In the back of your head. Where else would you expect?”
“Sorry George.”
Milo thought about asking more questions, but sensed George was getting quite fed up. He started to think about his cat instead. He hoped his encephalon come chimeryon replacement knew how to care for cats. He also hoped he could iron.
“Good year ladies and gentlemen. If I could ask you to prepare for re-materialisation,” an announcement announced from seemingly nowhere. “Please be ready to block your ears with your thumbs and your nostrils with your little fingers very soon.”
“What happens if I don’t?” Milo asked George.
“Your head explodes into micro dust.”
“Think I get the idea. Thanks.”
Milo noticed that he and George and everything in their elevator looking cabin was starting to go very transparent again. He had the feeling something was going to happen soon. He could see that George had his thumbs in his ears and his little fingers firmly up his nostrils. He thought he should probably do the same.
“Please assume your dematerialisation position ladies and gentlemen,” the kind and somewhat sexy sounding female announcement announced. “We must inform you that your failure to assume the dematerialisation position could lead to serious heath risks including reduction to cosmic dust.”
“Sounds serious,” Milo tried to joke with a voice that replicated someone with a serious head cold. His thumbs and little fingers firmly lodged in his ears and nostrils.
“It is,” George answered in the same head cold sound just before a rather large thud and grating noise indicated that their arrival was probably underway.
There was a minute or so of almost complete transparence that really freaked Milo out, but then all returned to a comfortable normal opaqueness and he felt a lot better. He looked at his watch. A little difficult with his current finger and thumb position, but he managed. Eleven-thirty-five am. And still Wednesday. That really explained everything.
“Please wait until the materialisation light is illuminated before resuming full resumption of existence,” the same kind of somewhat sexy sounding female announcement announced. Milo felt a little reassured.
“So, we’re here then?” Milo asked George.
“You could say that,” George said, as Milo noticed George had changed a little.
“You’ve got scales!” Milo half screeched.
“Welcome to reality Milo.”
Welcome to Reality
“Wake up Milo. We’ve got to disembark,” George said as he gently slapped Milo’s face.
“What happened?”
“You feinted.”
“You’ve still got scales!” Milo said, but this time with a little less panic in his voice.
“I know Milo. So have you.”
Milo looked at the back of his hands and immediately noticed that his skin was now composed of very small light blue scales. More like fish than snake or lizard he thought just before he feinted again. George started all over again in trying to wake Milo up, and wondered why he continued in this job.
“Ladies and gentlemen. This is your automated cabin supervisor speaking. Please leave the beam transporter by your side exit door immediately. Dematerialisation will begin in four minutes. We remind you that we take no responsibility for lost hand luggage, bodies or body parts after the red dematerialisation warning light is illuminated. Thank you for your understanding.”
George man-handled Milo to his feet and managed to get Milo’s semi-conscious body near the exit door. He pushed the button and waited for it to open.
“Right, come on Milo. Let’s get moving,” George said as he walked Milo through the door.
“George?”
“Yes, Milo?”
“I can see where I’ve been,” Milo said as he suddenly realised he could see the Welcome to ARC sign in front of him at the end of a white hall, and at the same time, the door closing behind him.
“So you’re awake then Milo?”
“Almost,” Milo said with no sense of surety whatsoever.
“Good. Now let’s get through the EVR procedure and we can be on our way.”
“Silly question I know George. But what is an EVR procedure?”
“Exit Virtual Reality.”
“So by that you mean we are not in real reality just yet then?”
“That’s right Milo.”
“So. Eh, that means? What exactly?”
“You’ll be de-scaled soon.”
“Did I tell you that I don’t like Wednesdays George?”
For something that sounded very complex, returning to reality was really a very simple process. George and Milo walked the length of the white entry hall. Six doors were located at the end of the hall with signs above each door.
RE-ENTER HERE
Each door shimmered slightly, and had a silvery, almost watery translucent look to them. They were numbered from one to six, but in a jumbled order.
“Why are the doors numbered five, three, two, one, four, six George?”
“It’s the date today Milo.”
“Am I asking too many questions?”
“Yes.”
George ushered Milo into door three and George went though door six. Milo had never been in a front loading washing machine, but imagined the sensation he was feeling after entering the door must be very similar. He was floating in a gassy liquid and turning head over heel, spinning and twisting, but never touching the sides of whatever he was in. He couldn’t see any walls, edges, floors or anything that resembled firmness. At first everything was a very pale green. Then a pale blue and now turning to a vague off-white sort of colour. He could only think that these colour changes indicated a change in cycle. Wash, rinse, soften.
Milo tried to look at his watch, but the face was blurred. He thought he had been spinning for a few minutes now, and was rather hoping it would stop soon, as he was starting to feel a little nauseas. Luckily, before his nausea could manifest itself, he noticed that he was now almost upright, and starting to be lowered. He wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling of being lowered. Difficult to know exactly when you have no concept of up, down or sideways. There was a green light flashing just above his head just as an announcement was made.
“Please move forward, and watch your step. Welcome to ARC. We wish you a pleasant return to reality.”
Milo carefully put out his left leg in an attempt to start walking, and was surprised to find some solidity below his foot. His right foot made the same conclusion. As did the left again immediately after that. He noticed that the gassy liquid was dissolving away and very soon found himself standing next to George again.
“Alright Milo.”
“Um. Yes. I think so.”
“Good.”
“George?”
“Yes?”
“Where have your scales gone?”
“They protect your matter when you are in beam travel.”
“So, I’m not a fish then?”
“No Milo. You’re not a fish.”
“But I can still see behind me.”
“Yes Milo.”
Milo turned and tried out his new eye but found turning in circles made him dizzy, so he tried nodding his head up and down instead. Like anyone with a new toy, there was a certain novelty in having rear view, and Milo found it fascinating to he able to bend his head down and look at the floor and at the same time see the light fitting in the ceiling. Then he turned with his back to George and was astounded at the clarity of his new found third eye. George clearly needed a shave. He was about to think why his new eye didn’t need glasses when he made another remarkable observation.
“George?”
“Yes Milo,” George responded in a tone of voice that was exhibiting the early signs of being totally fed up with being continually asked silly questions.
“I’m wearing blue jeans, a black t-shirt and grey blazer.”
“You’re also a little taller and you’re wearing different glasses Milo. Anymore questions?”
“Yes George. Just one,” Milo said. “Is it lunch time? I’m quite hungry.”
“I’m sure there’ll be something in your refrigerator.”
“Eh. Sorry George?”
“Come on Milo. I’ll help you find a taxi.”
“You’re not coming with me George?”
“No Milo. I have another two collections to make today.”
“So what will I do?” Milo asked as they walked towards the front of the taxi line.
“Get on with life Milo. Get on with life!”
“But how will I know what to do?”
“You’ll be fine Milo. The jump from chimeryon to formyon will take you a couple of days to get used to. But don’t worry. You’ll be fine. It’s not your first time you know.”
“What? I’ve done this before?” Milo asked somewhat surprised.
“Milo, you have been from encephalon to chimeryon to formyon countless times.”
“So why can’t I remember doing this before George?”
“I told you before. You get wiped each time.”
“So I am going to be wiped again soon huh?”
“Now I think you understand Milo. Look, here’s a taxi. Jump in,” George said as Milo less than confidently got into the taxi. “Twenty-two Brown Street thanks driver.”
“But that’s my old address at home!” Milo yelled at George from the taxi.
“Have a nice day. Oh and life Milo. See you again someday maybe,” George said just before the taxi pulled away. Milo didn’t need to turn his head to see George going back into the ARC Welcome Centre. Presumably to set off on another collection.
“Been great weather the
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