Like ancient statues they line the walls, lit by veins of sunstone and the intermittent flashing of assorted equipment. The Terrians dream as one across the universe. The psychic energy is strong enough for even the Grendler to sense. It understands that this is the best chance it has. This of all places--with its mystical Terrian communication network combined with the Grendler's own magic blinkies--should be the place where reception is finally made possible.
A new receiver is wired into place. Silverware necklaces are hung around the neck of each hibernating Terrian. Metallic foil is rolled out of the mouth of the cave like a red carpet. The gear is gingerly held to the Grendler's eyes and ... static ... just more static.
A mournful wail echoes through the caverns as the Grendler once again faces the sad reality that here on the shores of the Sea of Antius ... they still don't get the Sci-Fi Channel.
THE END
