“Yes.”
With minimal assistance from Mother, I made the announcement for everyone to head to the Observation Lounge. I was determined the least necessary on the command deck, so I was able to zip out, make sure everyone was doing as requested, and get my kids harnessed in and strategically placed next to Gadhavi, Siler, and Buchanan. Then headed back to the command deck. Surprising no one, Chuckie, Reader, Joe, Randy, Jerry, Drax, and Mossy came with me.
Strapped back in while the extra guys took up positions near the windshield, which was now doubling as our live-action movie screen, and we all looked at this new system—none of the three we were going to had names that any of us knew of.
There were seven planets. Because this was a Drax Industrial vessel, we were able to get what was down there beamed up to our screen. The planet Mother had chosen first was uninhabited and had no spacecraft crashed on it, either.
But the second one looked typical for an early industrialized society—there were buildings and such, farmlands, lakes, rivers, and oceans. “Looks a lot like Earth,” Tito said.
“This resembles Tur somewhat, too,” Mossy said.
Then we got a glimpse of what looked like a native, from the back. “Um . . . is that a person? Like a human person?”
“It looks humanoid,” Drax said.
We zoomed in however we did that—Walker appeared to have control of this—and got a good look. We stared. We were silent. So, most likely, was the person we were looking at.
“Um . . . is that a mime?”
“It looks like a mime,” Reader replied.
“Surely not,” Chuckie said, sounding like he hoped he was right but thought Reader and I probably were. “I mean, maybe that’s just their coloration.”
“They’re mime-colored, then, because I see more of them. And they aren’t talking.”
Sure enough, there were a lot of different sized and shaped people, different skin colors, but all with white paint on their faces, black paint on top of the white paint giving them expressions, so to speak, with bright red lips, wearing black and white striped garments with white gloves.
None of them were moving their mouths in terms of speaking. They were making kissy faces and such, but no gum flapping was in evidence. They were all doing things with their hands, though—some clearly communicating, some just doing the classics of walking against the wind and being trapped inside a box.
“Mother, tour this whole planet, please and thank you. I mean, maybe we’re just seeing the Mime Village or something.”
“Something, I’ll give you that,” Jerry said.
We did a thorough fly-around. Everyone—man, woman, and child—were mimes. And they were all miming. The animals we could see were also mimes, at least, their coloration said they were.
“I think they’re born that way,” Tito said. “As in, they aren’t wearing paint, that’s just how they look.”
“God help us all,” was my contribution. Dug into my purse and pulled out my iPod. Algar was on the case—I had an Anything But Clowns! playlist queued up.
“Oh, mimes aren’t so bad,” Jeff said.
“I’m ignoring you, Jeff.”
Might not have been able to figure out how to make all the buttons work, but it was clear where the docking station was—Drax truly thought of everything. Plugged my iPod in.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with them,” Jeff insisted. “Mimes are fun and funny and can be poignant, too.”
“We may have to get a divorce.”
“Titanic Clown” by Pop Will Eat Itself came onto our airwaves. It wasn’t my husband declaring mimes evil, but it helped me relax a little.
“That’s uncalled for,” Jeff said quietly.
“She doesn’t like clowns, Jeff,” Chuckie said. “She’s not alone. Quite a lot of people suffer from coulrophobia, the unnatural fear of clowns.”
“Sorry, Jeff, and I was kidding.” Kind of. “But your acceptance of mimes really makes me wonder about you. Chuckie, it’s not an unnatural fear, it’s a smart one. Mother, other than the fact that this is the Planet of Mimes, they all seem okay. Let’s check the next nearest.”
“Unless you have something definitive on the sun,” Tim said.
“Nothing yet,” Mother replied.
“Figures,” Reader said with a sigh. “And yeah, I’m with Kitty—not a huge fan of clowns, either. Though I can handle mimes.”
“You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.”
We zipped to the next planet. This ship really did zip along. Which made the realization of how far we were traveling via warp all the more awe-inspiring and scary at the same time.
We circled the next planet. “This is worse than the last,” Chuckie said, as the music changed to “Harlequin” by Killing Joke. “Are those harlequins?”
“Of course they are. At least, it sure looks like it to me.” Plus, the music was definitely a confirmation as far as I was concerned. This planet’s inhabitants were all in the multicolored geometric designs I associated with a harlequin, some in what looked like tights, some in more baggy outfits, all wearing the funky, many-pointed hats with balls on the end. “Why aren’t they with the mimes? Pardon me—why are they here at all?”
“Again, nothing wrong with them,” Jeff said. “They’re pretty.”
“Pretty weird. Jeff, it’s a planet of harlequins.”
“And, as with the mimes, I think these are naturally forming,” Tito said. “I believe what we’d call their hats are actually part of their heads. And what looks like clothes is, I think, feather or fur or just skin, but it looks attached.”
Controlled a shudder, but it took effort. Chuckie wasn’t wrong—right after snakes, I found clowns, and all their clownlike offshoots, just this side of terrifying. “I hope someone’s comforting all the kids.”
“Mimes and harlequins are nice,” Jeff insisted.
“Are any of them noticing us?” Reader asked while I contemplated this horrible viewpoint of my husband’s while really considering that divorce idea.
“Not that I can tell,” Walker said.
“They aren’t reacting as such,” Tito added. “I think we’re far enough away that they can’t see us without a telescope.”
“We are not stopping, even if they showed us a giant welcome mat. Mother, anything on the sun?”
“No, I’m sorry. Stars by their nature have quite a lot going on inside of them. It’s difficult to determine if this one is acting normally or not.”
“On to the next planet then,” Tim said. “And have you noticed—so far, these planets all seem Earthlike.”
“They’re all close enough to this sun,” Chuckie said. “They might be breathing oxygen.”
“I say again that we are not going to swing down there to find out.”
“Relax, baby,” Jeff said. “I’m sure the next planet will be normal for us.”
We reached said planet and Jeff’s cheery prediction was dashed just that fast. “Oh, my God, it’s like the planet of Red Skelton down there.” My music changed to “Tears of a Clown” by the English Beat.
“Who?” Jeff wasn’t the only one asking that.