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into the
garden pond. She enters the villa and proceeds to a transporter that looks like
an elevator, verbally commanding it to open.
        The camera-like lens scans
her whole body and utters words in perfect Quewythian.
“Qfymmamt...STU...rojtojh...libxz.” “Scanning...DNA...searching...match.” “Stu
xudromiat.” “DNA...confirmed.” The elevator door opens and Dvora steps in. The
door shuts and Dvora is transported a mile down in just a few cycles. She steps
out of the transporter into a well-lit office with connecting laboratories,
hallways and rooms.
    The doors on the
rooms all have numbers; Quewthian numbers. She walks over to the door that has
the number seven on it.
        The character used for the
number seven looks like a palm tree with seven branches protruding from the
trunk. Dvora enters the room to an oval shaped table made of wood from the best
Quewythian trees on her home planet Laskaris. It was harder and more beautiful
than Mahogany retaining a natural redwood lustre.
    “Mother,” says a
young woman named Kyn, the eldest daughter of Dvora, speaking in the
traditional Quewythian language. “I and my sisters are pleased you could join
us.”
    “I am also pleased you
received my messages and came speedily from the planets you are ruling.”
    “Please sit, Mother,” says
Kathara, third eldest, gesturing her hand towards the head of the table; the
place reserved only for a Queen. Dvora takes her seat proudly and then greets
her other daughters in sequence of their age, raising her left hand in the
traditional greeting and bowing her head as she says each one’s name. Kyn, Vaneza,
Kathara Sarita, Emedria, Ophelia and my baby daughter, Yeralai I am pleased to
see you all.”
    “We are pleased to see our
mother as always,” replies Kathara, as the eldest daughter must do. “Everything
is in place we trust.”
    “It is, my daughters,”
replies Dvora, as she looks around the table at each one. “By the time of our
next dawn, when the morning Magenta sky turns to Cyan and the twin suns are
high, it will be finished. Koupiton Hoxenyth will be
dead from the most powerful wuocuj in the Twelve Galaxies Cluster; the
poisonous Quewythian Klinaberry.”
    “But Mother,”
responds Ophelia, “What are you talking about? We thought we were to plan a
party for him and now you talk about killing him. What’s gotten into you?”
        Valenza, the oldest speaks. “Have
you lost your mind, mother? Father cannot be killed with any poison, even the
most powerful of all wuocuj, Klinaberry.”
        The queen responds in anger.
“Yes, I am aware of that, Ophelia. But he shall be dead to us and the universe.
If the antidote is not administered, he will be catatonic.
        This
will give us the opportunity to take over the Twelve Galaxies Cluster and
declare the usurpers and half-brothers Cruise and Arthos traitors. We will all
testify that they jointly planned and commanded the poisoning of their father,
and unlimited powers shall be granted to me...and my birth daughters.”
        Her daughters were not able
to resist their mother’s demands. They seemed to have had no will of their own.
She seemed to be controlling them somehow. Just as Dvora had explained to her
daughters, the next morning after the Daxu Korth, ruler of the Twelve Galaxies
Cluster had his morning meal, he became sick.
    “I’ve been poisoned.” He knew right away.
The doctors confirmed his suspicions and at once administered an antidote.
“Bring Dvora to me at once.” The antidote worked only partly as that particular
poison was very powerful.
    “We have to have a stronger antidote made
in the laboratory,” says Physician Ochacia,
the head doctor and surgeon commander of the planet. He called his assistants
by cyber phone at the laboratory and gave them instructions on how to make the
antidote.   “You must rest. I will
keep giving you doses of the antidote I have, but if the stronger antidote does
not get here soon,