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Any starship commander passing the inter galactic explorer would have considered the little craft to be completely out of control. This was exactly the impression that clone Six-O intended but the strange tumbling motion he had achieved was aiming him directly towards Galaxis Lepras and his goal, the forbidden planet. Well away from the clutching arms of clone-wife M230f.

It might be considered that a clone was unable to take decisive action that contravened any orders, but not all clones could be made perfect. There were occasions that the cloners, aware of their own Godlike ability would throw in a few of their own genes for good measure, just to improve the brew as it were. With the great distances their prodigy travelled, it would be several light years before their misdemeanours would be found out and by that time, the authorities could do little about it anyway.

Six-O strapped himself into his zargo seat and waited for it to contour itself to his small frame then flicked the switch on his powered down transgabbler to send a final message to control. He thought for a moment, he really needed to say something brave as did Magon, the great hero that all clones were modelled after when he was skidding towards the edge of the universe and into oblivion. Then he pictured all that officialdom waiting for his last testimony, hoping for a heroic statement to temper the fact that they'd need to go cap in hand to the exchequer for his replacement, and switched it off again. If they could make nothing better for him than that nagging clone-wife, M230f, who had already lined up jobs for him to do on his return, and they weren't even certified natural producers yet, then they could wait for evermore.

The planet glowed bluely before him as he released the control restraints that had made his course so erratic and settled down for entry. There was a slight jolting that could be felt even through his special seat and he could begin to see a soft glow on the Extro tube, the screen that kept watch on the outside of his craft. A slight adjustment to his control and the vibration melted away and the glow subsided and he knew that he had the balance just right. Swivelling the Extro tube's sensor, he was able to look beneath him. A level bluey green surface almost fluoresced up towards him, while a lumpy yellow interspersed with green mass, stretched evilly alongside it. He chose the bluey green and waited for contact.

At first he thought his extro tube had gone on the blink and smacked it hard with one tiny hand but his gauges confirmed what his eyes were now seeing. The strange world was swallowing him up and what was even worse, an immense creature with neither legs nor wings was following him down and this same creature had a mouth to match its size. Visions of that book his cloners used to read him as he gathered his size came back to him. The story of J one A being eaten by just such a creature, and he pressed the emo button, hurling himself upwards out of the murk. Then gently operating the controls, he lowered himself onto the lumpy, yellow and green, evil looking area. It certainly was a most an unusual world.

The touch down was just that. A gentle touch and he was firmly on the strata. Now to adjust his size, the simple rule was to match it with any living creature that he could see but the only creature he'd seen so far was the monster in the murk and even though his size generator was the latest issue, it would be hard pressed to extend him to those proportions. He decided to set it on auto and hope for the best. According to the manual, he should also check on what coverings the creatures used so that he could match himself as closely as possible and cause no alarm. But the manual said nothing about what you should do if you could see no creatures. He decided to wear nothing but chose a delicate green colour for his skin. Green seemed a reasonable colour, he really preferred blue but after falling foul in the blue landing area, he decided to keep clear of it for a while and opened the hatch to the outside world.

The freshness of the atmosphere took his breath away and he stood gasping, adjusting his body to accept it. After five hundred light years in the same recycled geno system he missed the familiar smells around him but at last was able to straighten his body and look around him. His feet were making marks in the surface and he studied it closely, perhaps other beings, more alien than himself might have their left marks here.

There was a hole with slight scratch marks around it by his feet. He waited. A small black twitching nose appeared and looked up at him. He felt his size generator flip into action and was suddenly peering into the beings sharply pointed features and aware of the two large teeth less than a centihalf from his own face. He reached quickly for the adjuster button on his size adjuster but as he did so his arm was gripped tight and he was whirled upwards and off his feet. A great whooshing sound and the atmosphere was being broken into a million pieces. He twisted his neck and looked up. A great black thing with wings, was flapping him upwards and he had left his own wings back in his craft. This would take some careful manipulation. He flipped the button and the black flapping contraption seemed a little smaller as he grew in size. He flipped again, he must make himself bigger but only enough to make the thing set him down. Too big and he could be dropped and the surface already looked a long way beneath him. Slowly the animal began to tire and Six-O saw the surface getting nearer. Large stone structures were rising from it and just by one, slightly larger than most, set in a grey surface with creatures of all colours speeding around it, he was dropped.

There was a small patch of blue, but this time it was more of a grey blue and a great spout of the same substance shot skywards broke, fell back and shattered the surface so that it was tossed about untidily. Six-O fell down into this. He had no time to adjust his breath manipulator and gasped in a great chunk of the surface making it difficult to breath. That's when one of the creatures in flapping covers dropped a round, bouncy thing which bumped along the greyness and into the surface beside him. The creature reached out for it and Six-O's size adjuster whirled into action so swiftly, his legs buckled beneath him and seated him firmly on the bottom of the surface, but still he grew, and he shot through the top, facing the creature peering in his direction. A peculiar noise emanated from its mouthpiece it must be speech and his talk translator whirred inside his head.

"It.. It's Excalibur."

Another creature joined the first. "Don't be silly, Excalibur's a sword. It's a Piskie - look it's green and it's got big ears."

"It's a Piskie, It's a piskie!" the first creature started excitedly, and soon a whole herd of them surrounded the surface where Six-O sat.

"It's a piskie, It's a piskie." They linked their arms and started prancing around him.

A screeching noise in the distance and the creatures stopped for a moment.

"What's going on?" A voice much louder than those around him.

"It's a piskie, Miss!"

Another head appeared, more mature, older? "Don't be silly, it's only a stupid boy." She looked at Six-O, her face sort of contorted. "Get out, go and get dried and report to Mr. Hinchcliff... and get that green stuff off you."

Six-O stood up. There was a gasp followed by a funny wobbling sound that he couldn't interpret. The next noise he could though, and he also recognised the anger in it.

"Sit down, you dirty little boy. How dare you! I'll get Mr. Hinchcliff myself. Just stay there and don't you dare move until you've got some clothes on." She grabbed at some of the other creatures, pulling them away. "Come away girls get back to your classes."

"But it's only a piskie Miss.. and anyway my brother's got a bigger one." Six-O heard arguments going off into the distance and pulled himself out of the substance. They obviously didn't like his naked appearance and he'd left all his coverings in his craft. He'd have to find some from somewhere. But there's something called the magic of childhood and where those children had been playing some of the magic had been left behind, and it started working with a sort of buzzing sound. Six-O looked around him, a weird flying contraption of the like he'd never seen before came swaying towards him. Small, with transparent wings, a long shiny blue body and six legs but the size was only relative and as Six-O's size adjuster slipped into action he could see it more clearly as it settled beside him. It was a massive beast, with a huge ugly head but there, held within a webwork of straps, a being dressed in gossamer and wearing flimsy coverings, that did very little covering sat on its back. It was also wearing a pair of wings, similar to the pair that Six-O had left in his craft.

"Do you need some help?" It was a cheery voice and Six-O waited for his talk translator to work. Instead it switched itself off.

"I said, do you need some help?"

Six-O understood the being perfectly and realised it was speaking in his very own mind talk. "I.. I crashed."

"We know," the being said. "We found your craft. Climb up behind me and I'll take you to some friends."

The creature took off again and soon the pair were buzzing through the atmos, over masses of green and the occasional patches and ribbons of silvery blue. At the sight of this colour so the creature went almost wild and the controller had a great deal of trouble keeping it on course. Then eventually, below them, was a settlement and what was more, it was of the type that Six-O was familiar with. Self generating and arranged in a circle, each habitat with a great domed roof set on a single pillar.

The creature set them down by the largest habitat and Six-O counted the white spots born on its red roof, qua centi, it must be a very important dwelling. Back in his other world it was rare to see more than qua panko.

A small figure emerged from the base, a deep purple colour and Six-O felt compelled to bow before him.

"Welcome Six-O," the figure said. "We've been expecting you."

"But.. but."

The figure held his hand up, commanding silence. "You have not yet recognised me. I am your precursor, I am Magon."

"But you fell to oblivion!" Six-O couldn't help himself, though he had to admit that this beings personage was familiar with Magon's equal personage kept at control.

"No, Six-O. I came here, I founded a new world - That's why this planet is forbidden. But all clones modelled after me will eventually find me. It's in their genes and Control can do nothing about it." He held up both arms expansively. "You are welcome to share my world with me."

Six-O looked about him, his mind working in syncro gear so that his thoughts couldn't be read. At least M230f wouldn't be here. And things did look fairly familiar. It could be a home from home, or even better without that clinging clone-wife. "Are there enough habitats?" he said at last.

"There are plenty and when you choose your personage, one will be allocated."

"Choose my personage?"

"Oh yes, we find it quite inconvenient to keep adjusting our sizes, so we choose what we want to be. For example, we've got Leprachauns at thirty centi halfs, fairies at ten, elves, pixies and a whole host of others. But before I go into too much detail we've a little ceremony to perform."

Several beings of different shapes, sizes and coverings surrounded him. A large screen, glowing in a myriad colours was held in front of him. This ceremony could only be one thing. The certification of natural producers. Wow! Good job his clone-wife wasn't here to see this.

The screen parted, a figure emerged dressed totally in transparent coverings. Shapely? Well, reasonable so for a clone, except that.. except that.. Only one clone wife ever used that body tint, deepest pink with bright orange stripes. It had to be.. It had to be.

"Hullo Six-O," M230f said. "I thought I'd find you here. Isn't it marvellous now they've invented time travel!"

Comments

What a wonderful imagination Steve Britain has: science fiction and 'the little people' mix together with apparently effortless ease, the one explaining/ complimenting the other.

While sympathising with the hero, I couldn't help but smile (perhaps because I am a woman) at his come-uppance at the end.

The goal of any writer of fiction must be to entertain; Steve certainly entertained me.
Janis Robertson

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