Once we have the nuns we can decide
The Plutonian Council shifted and shuffled nervously. It was the first time the council had met with the High Reverence herself, Amnarnun of Makemake, and her Sisters of the Dissolved Order.
The Order, clouded in mystery, as much if not more so than as anything else on the small crimson world, had decided decades ago to branch out more, and create greater ties with the other communities of the thousands of worlds that exist within the ‘Barrierlands’ (or Kuiper belt as it is known on Earth) and eventually try to reach out to the residents of Earth.
Pluto’s great Council had met delegates before from Makemake, but none as high profile and awesomely revered as the Frocked One.
She stood at the central lectern, hands gently clasped in front and head slightly bowed. plutoCen Kr’Dorir, dwarfed beside her, wasn’t sure if she was looking toward him, down upon him, or in prayer.
“Nun Child” she said, with all the grace one would imagine one with her stature to have.
“Ah, my humblest of apologies, Oh heavenly mistress…” grovelled plutoCen Kr’Dorir, “I’d forgotten about your ability of telepatheticness.”
The Plutonian Council coughed nervously, one member at the back audibly groaning.
“Eh?” The Frocked One looked momentarily confused, then blended effortlessly back into her calm demeanour. “No, plutoCen, I was asking for Nun Child to approach. Here she is now.”
Nun Child, Amnarnun’s niece, was in every way as serene as her aunt. She wore the Makemakean blue frock of life, which contrasted to Amnarnun’s black frock for everything. They both gently rustled as they moved, but apart from this gentle sound they moved otherwise silently and with ease, almost as if they were gliding across the floor.
plutoCen Kr’Dorir shook Nun Child’s hand, and said, as pleasantly as he could manage “A pleasure to meet you, as well as your mother.”
The Council breathed in audibly, with some physically cringing. plutoCen Kr’Dorir noticed and quickly attempted to correct his latest gaffe “and our mother, and everyone’s mother of the Barrierlands, the High Reverence herself.” He thought he’d pulled it off, and realised he still had a hold of Nun Child’s hand. Firmly. With a smile, he swiftly let go, and let out an extremely loud ‘harrrumph’ as he pretended to clear his throat. Nun Child looked at him with crystal clear blue eyes, and gently spoke.
“We today bring you gifts, friends and allies of Pluto. Gifts made from the imagined tears from the blessed angels; the ethereal strings from the harmonic harps; and the dreams and hopes of our people that we would like to share with you.
“We also come with an invitation for you to join our Serene Order, dissolved as it is, yet expanding into the vast Solar System.
“We bring a calming influence to fill your void of chaos and hypertension, and hope you will accept our heartfelt offer.”
“One moment please, your ladyness…” plutoCen Kr’Dorir marched over to the plutoCen Deputy panel, where the three High Leaders sat in whispered conference.
The Council looked on uneasily.
Amnarnun and Nun Child looked towards each other, waiting patiently for the reply.
They didn’t need to wait too long. plutoCen Kr’Dorir returned to the lectern, and said “It’s like this, your references. We aren’t really a serene race. We’re more of a rough sort, not quite barbaric but not very politically correct. Rough around the edges if you like. We don’t have many ‘orders’ or anything like that here on Pluto, but we are always open to change. All we can say now is once we have the nuns we can decide whether to join your order. We’ll be in touch. Keep your pathetic lines open. Telepathetic lines. Keep them open. And we’ll let you know.”
Amnarnun and Nun Child both graciously accepted plutoCen Kr’Dorir’s hand once more, graciously bowed, and graciously made their effortless way out of the Council Chamber.
Amnarnun gently tapped Nun Child’s arm as they reached the door. Sometimes you can not reason with barbarians, she thought. But we’ve planted the seed.
Agreed, Aunt. Nun Child replied.
A slight smile crept across both of their faces as the cold iron doors slammed shut behind them.
This post has been written in response to a flash fiction challenge by Diane Henders.
Some of the characters in this otherworldly tale first appeared in this post.
