Jogging With Roussel 20 (Part 1)

‘Only if he’s a merman with seven green horns,’ mouthed Canterel petulantly to himself looking a bit miffed. Canterel then sniffed, “Nuevi Barnabotti dog, well perhaps then, my dear Chlorlock creation, you will enjoy having your green sock drained of Eloi impoddities to rejoin the labor of the pyramid camps.” At that, Canterel sent off a message to his Venetian strangler to kill the Chlorlock scientist and collect his inner ‘volkan fry’ and bring them before him in his private chambers.  That evening, the Venetian strangler, Peocchi Becheri, lovingly called ‘Peo’ entered Canterel’s private apartments by a secret door Canterel called ‘the serene porte’ which was in fact a quantum portal into 16th century Venice where Canterel enjoyed living as an extended member of the zonta, a person of the senatorial body. Within Canterel’s chambers though there was also a section of a scale model of Venice of those times where he housed his own ‘Council of Ten’ of which he comprised the eleventh to deal with, in an admittedly theatrical way, those who would not submit to the rule of Canterel, and in fact there was also a Chlorlock version of this side of Canterel, called Chrontorul whose impoddities were called the Quantumruli. This was Canterel’s bizarro autocratic-fascist side, which alongside his poetic, spiritual, socialist,  anarchist, and various other sides went into forming the over-arching collective psybertemporal socioborg that Canterel had become, Cantagrael being merely the oldest, and most well known of his avatarial presences. In fact, there was an entire, if miniature, civilization of Canterels which lived in a place called Cant-space, or C-space for short, but which was known as Cantoralia by its inhabitants, all of which were vestiges of Canterel’s Narcissystem, and which formed the memic substratum for the impoddities of the larger Chlorlock avatars of Canterel. It should be said, that both Canterel and H.G. Orson Welles were both afflicted with the poison of 'supreme genius', although, Welles, had opted for something closer to a traditional hareem in his own somewhat tamer quarters, preferring to live out his days in the company of lovely young people, instead of fostering mega-change in the ramifying worlds of infinite parallel universes associated with time travel. Peocchi appeared before Canterel who was dressed in a long deep blue velvet robe, and was seated upon a living chair fashioned from reptilian genes. Its seat and cushion formed by the modification of inflatable throat sacs, its apex a harangue of horns and mouths and forked tongues which hissed and sniffed, and flickered. Peocchi knelt in his black velvet strangler’s suit, removed his hood, and laid the black sack at Canterel’s feet. Out came the little Eloic impoddities looking hurt and puzzled. Canterel smiled. “You’ve grown soft working in the laboratory my dear Uyūshitanis. Perhaps a few years working on the pyramids will change your work ethic!”

At that the tiny Venetian Council of Ten appeared also dressed in robes of dark blue, and strode out onto a plaza which gazed out from the edge of the tiny Venice into Canterel's private apartments. One of the members, an Eloi impoddity created from the mind of Renier Zen, the most moderate of the group, begged clemency. “Canterel, this young Chlorlock has served you well. He originated as an ‘indy science fiction writer’ of early 21st century Japan. You do thim great disservice by this egregious punishment! Give us at least three of his impoddities not to suffer the pyramids, and to become pages here in our little Venice. Perhaps the slow pace of our small Republic will calm and discipline thim.” “Wise Zen, Your words delight me, to split the consciousness of this Chlorlock who I have brought up from brutality with augmented consciousness and physicality is a terrible burden, but selective clemency is always a habit of my growth..” Canterel nodded to Peocchi who randomly picked up 4 or 5 of the 30 or so Eloic imps, and deposited thim into the plaza where the Council of Ten stood. Some tiny attendants ran out onto the plaza with ropes, and took the ‘lucky’ imps to begin their indoctrination within the Impozzi, or ‘training prison’.. Peocchi bowed deeply before Canterel, and Canterel bowed deeply before the Council of Ten, as they retired to their chambers while a small troupe of singers, dancers and performers strolled out into the plaza. Canterel pulled out his lute, and began to play a dark sonata called “The Sumptuous Republic of Time”. The buildings of the tiny Venice looked vaguely Fauvist in the light of the candelabras.