Chapter Thirty. Deep Into the Darkness Peering

Deep Into the Darkness Peering

Now the Peninsula is one of the finest hotels in Hong Kong. With breath taking harbour views and unrivaled, legendary elegance near the corner of Salisbury and Hankow Roads in the Tsim Sha Tsui district, the Peninsula couldn't be more remote from the dungeon, where the white marble laid, rocking back and forth after the Jade-fighter fiasco to destroy it had failed.

Derby hardly could remember his night at the Peninsula. The morning after...now that was another story. Waking up and seeing Jeninqua escape the sheets, naked and seductive. Even now thinking about it made him shiver. Except he didn't have a body to shiver in. But he sure feels like shivering with that thought of Jeninqua climbing out of those legendary elegant sheets from that mind blowing suite at the Peninsula, with breath taking harbour views. Shiver, shiver, shiver. "My God where is my body because I can sure feel the shiver."

Rocking back and forth. The white marble, still with inertia. A universe could dwell inside a marble. Couldn't it? Let's think about it for a second. Do you accept the thought of endless space? Or maybe not endless, but here is a number for you. The Milky Way. Just a speck in the whole mind blowing distance of space. It is 100,000 light years across it, containing 100 billion stars. How many galaxies exist in the universe? Well, physicists haven't been able to count too many of them yet. Only about two million have been identified, but they would guess there are about 100,000 million of them. So I won't try to put all those zeroes on the distance, and you and I can agree that doesn't mean it is endless, but it's pretty fucking far. Far out man!

So see, you and I easily accept the thought of nearly endless space...which approaches the concept of infinity. But this one is a little under our radar. What I'm about to discuss with you. The thought of infinintely small stuff. You see, if you accept the one concept, then you have to understand that it goes the other way too. Anything infinitely large means that it has an infinitely small dimension. Put those two concepts together and you start getting the feeling that distance in space only means something when it is held in relation to something else.

Now I'm going to say it. There is no reason that 100,000 million galaxies couldn't exist inside that white marble. We can only speculate about such things. But there is one fact, kind reader which I can confirm for you and remove any doubt which you may have. Derby is inside that white marble. Somehow he is like an egg salad in there mixed up with Jeninqua in the most bizarre way you could imagine. And the white marble is in the dungeon, about as far away from the Peninsula as you can get and still stay in Hong Kong.

But there is another hotel near the dungeon. Or I should say much closer than the Peninsula. It is called the Drummond. A less well known property with much less elegance and legend. We may call it a dump, but it still costs a pretty penny to stay there in Hong Kong.



Mark Sethlang, known as the "blues man" by friends had managed to land himself a gig in Hong Kong. The Duke of Lompowshen (a rich drug smuggler who had elevated himself in the social scene by creating a facade of nobility) had found Mark on Facebook by watching his little YouTube videos.

The Duke wanted to impress his Hong Kong friends that he could fly in an American entertainer. He also loved the blues. But what really got Mark the job was his raw ability of playing the zen flute. You see when Mark picked up that antique style reed instrument, he tapped into the spirit of the Great American Indian Grandfather Spirit. The Duke wasn't nearly attuned to anything so spiritual. In fact, Mark never tried to explain it. Still, what came out of that hollow tube was so primal, that Mark had a glimpse of immortality when those vibrations emanated from the end of that flute.

Not to be too confusing courteous reader, because Mark is nearly a totally innocent bystander in the remarkable events which took place near the Drummond Hotel, while he was snoring under stiff synthetic sheets. You see, a little black mouse climbed out of his guitar case that evening and sniffed its way to the dungeon, just three blocks away.

And just as the little white marble was about to stand still, while the Jade fighters were about to be liquified for their ineptness to destroy it, by the thick black scrunge dripping down the walls, otherwise known as the chief of Scontandia, Mark's black mouse zipped across that dirty floor.

Yes a creature came stirring, and even a mouse! But not one of the slap stick fighters, nor even the powerful Dr. Evil,



occupying his favorite embodiment of thick sludge on dingy dungeon walls saw the scampering rodent.

And with the mind of lord or lady, without a moment stopped or stayed he, our little scamp came charging to that saintly marble on the dank and cruddy floor. Here he swallowed that marble and off he scurried to the other door. Will we see him evermore?

uh, yeah