"Alright everyone—to the living room... it's time for tv."
The usual routine followed after his wife gave the order for all who were in the apartment to vacate the rooms that they were in and then go to where the tv was. Arenzoar and Dlahsleon pushed and shoved one another as they raced from the kitchen and then down the hallway; once they were in the living room, they charged to where the couch was—the piece of furniture, which had seen much better days, groaned after the two of them plopped down on it as fast, and as heavily, as they could. Beaufi showed a little more dignity by leaving her bedroom slowly and quietly; after entering the living room, and then reaching the couch, she tried her best to sit down—her innocently done act of "squeezing" in-between her two, couch-hogging brothers caused both Arenzoar and Dlahsleon to fight one another. As expected, Beaufi was dragged into their fight right after she got herself "comfortable" in the room.
The twins, Gizzippli and Galiza, did their usual in imitating their older brothers' mad dash into the room; after charging into the living room, they ran to their older siblings then tried their best to climb onto their laps—since Arenzoar, Dlahsleon, and Beaufi were too busy in fighting one another, they neither helped the two onto their laps or paid them any mind. Since Gizzippli and Galiza were just three hundred and eighty years of age, they didn't know better on not becoming involved in the fussing and fighting that their older siblings were doing—the twins saw the bickering of their siblings, and the frequent hustle and bustle routine of going to the living room for Family Evening Tv-time, as a sort of "game" and, like any other toddler, they just had to be involved in making as much noise as the others in the room were making.
He and his wife entered the room a minute later; they simply stood, then stared at all of the ruckus that was going on in the room before making the decision to go forward—the command for everyone to pipe down was given soon after they did so. As usual, the command was taken to heart for only a few minutes before someone started the next round of fussing and fighting.
"Move over!" his middle-born son, Dlahsleon, said to his oldest daughter, Beaufi.
"I can't! You move over!" Beaufi said back. The two of them glared at one another before turning to look at the room's tv; his daughter had no more turned to face the tv before turning and then snapping at the one who was to her left. "Quit elbowing my ribs!"
"Move over and you won't have to worry about my elbow going into them." his oldest son, Arenzoar, said in return.
He stuck his lower lip out after the children went at it again; part two of the nightly usual occurred right after that exchange of words was done. Dlahsleon kept telling his sister to move over; she'd come back by telling him that he was the one who needed to move over. Beaufi would tell Arenzoar to quit elbowing her ribs, or to quit pushing her against Dlahsleon; Arenzoar would come back by saying that she needed to either quiet up or move over so he wouldn't be "tempted" to use his elbow on her. Even though the tv wasn't on, the children all started snapping at Arenzoar, who was the "self-appointed" popcorn maker, and who always had the family-sized bowl of popcorn on him, to stop hogging the 'corn. The twins returned to making as much nose as they could. He and his wife were already tired of all the noise by the time they reached the two chairs that sat opposite one another.
"Alright Mudolavich's!" he said—with all the noise that was going on, he had to be loud when he spoke. As was natural for one who went through this nonsense on a day-in to day-out basis, his instructions were given out automatically. "Dlahsleon," he said after noticing that this son of his was taking up more than enough room on the couch. "move over so your sister can have some of the couch to sit on." he then turned his attention towards the two, older children, who were "doing war" by knocking their elbows into one another. "Arenzoar, Beaufi, either quit elbowing one another or leave the room." when he turned to give the twins their frequent, tv-time instruction, he both calmed down and softened up. "Gizzippli, Galiza, hush now."
His "charges" were quiet as they did as he had told them to do; when they looked at him, he saw not only the ghosts of the evening's fussing and fighting on their faces but also the looks of one who wanted to know if they had done what they had been told to do correctly. He nodded his head at the now-obedient, and silent, children then went to his chair; his wife made her rounds in checking on the kids before taking to the chair that was opposite the one that he was getting ready to sit in.
"If anyone's interested, a young, fresh face will be making an appearance on Channel 22 this evening."
That was what his employer's text message had said; nothing else had needed to be said for either he, or any of his co-workers, to know that something was going on with the one that they called Miss. Eshal—still, a quick call, placed by both him and Eldass, had gotten the scoop on what was going on.
Miss. Eshal, his employer's only daughter, who was also the only child that he knew the whereabouts of, had about had a hissy fit yesterday after learning what was going on between her father, his family, and the man who called himself Master Vile. His employer, who he and his co-workers respectively called Master Tazir, had spent a trouble-free six hours on Earth a day and a half ago; along with getting some good, alien-fresh air in his lungs he had also looked into what his troops had found—the two camps, the carcasses that had been near them, and the prints that had been near the carcasses had been looked at, then the ones who were behind the discoveries had been taken to the side and then asked a few questions, then a simple collection session had been done. Master Tazir had just taken the plaster casts of the prints up from the ground when his cellular went off; the man's nephew, the so-called owner of the planet, had simply called to give him a warning, which had mostly revolved around his not setting foot on the planet that he claimed as his without getting his express permission first.
A thirty minute period of returned trouble-free searching had happened before another call, which had come from the same man, came through; up to hearing the reason behind his uncle's presence being on the planet, the man had been fine with him being where he was. A Master Vile-style explosion had happened after he had learned what his uncle was up to; after doing a lot of un-needed yelling, Master Vile had barred him from coming within a two thousand mile radius of Earth's orbit.
Even though Master Tazir had taken heed of his nephew's barring—he hadn't touched foot to the planet for nearly two days now—he wasn't keeping his interests in the planet at bay. Two of the generals in his military had been given orders to go to the planet about two hours after the barring occurred; they had been given orders to conduct a simple, ground-based survey and an interior shield search of the areas located near to where the camps and carcasses had been found. A lot of bulletin and flier distribution had happened and around two hundred humans had been plucked from the streets to be questioned about who all had used the camps that had been found on the island.
His employer's nephew had near hit the roof after hearing about this new development happening on his planet; Master Tazir, along with anyone that was associated with him, was now banned from coming anywhere near the galaxy that Earth was in. A simple-made, and slightly deceiving, device had been installed in several of the locations that the two generals had searched just before the banning was done; thanks to efforts of them two generals, and their installed devices, the leads on the Earth-conducted search for Mistress Angel and her sons were coming in like clockwork.
Some fifty humans had come forward to say that they had seen a woman of his employer's "description" walking about the planet's various deserts and forests and along some of the lakes, rivers, and oceans; them same folk had said that this woman had been in the company of a mint-green skinned alien, or of someone that they hadn't been able to get a good look at, during each of them sightings. This woman had also been said to of been seen with an immature dog on at least five occasions—the description of this immature dog was baffling to both him and his employer; it was said to have shaggy fur, that was a lightish, dusty green color, and it was also said to be rather gangly, but athletic, in appearance.
"While the previous week wasn't that terribly bad for her, the current one has proven to be a bit more daunting—along with seeing me go down in spirits a few times, then seeing me return to my former luster after something's discovered in the investigation, and hearing that I've been barred, and then banned, from the planet that her mother, and brothers, may be one, she's also having to deal with knowing that my family status has been threatened."
Although his employer was vague on the subject, he had been able to detect what he had been trying to hide—Miss. Eshal had gone through a lot in the previous week... that year's Family Week had been a bit of a mental, and emotional, roller coaster for her. Along with seeing her father running around, looking into this promising lead, and then the one that popped up a few hours to a few days after that one came in, she had also had to contend with both knowing and hearing about how certain members of her family were calling to give her father grief.
A sort of ricocheting effect had happened with Master Tazir; his spirits had been brought down by his family's negativity more than twice in the previous week only to be returned to their former levels after word was received about something being discovered in his search. The man's spirits had been at an all-time high on the day that he had been banned from touching foot to the soil that was found on Earth—it was really no surprise on his part that the man's family had come galloping in to knock his spirits down to next to nothing on that day; about an hour to two hours after being banned from entering the galaxy that the planet Earth was in, Master Tazir had heard that the "aid" and "support" that he only just gotten from his older brother, sister-in-law, father, and the woman that his father had gone and married was being taken back. Along with hearing that their recently-given "aid" and "support" was being taken back, he had also heard that he was to be disowned if he continued searching for his wife and sons.
"Let him be disowned," he had thought after hearing of his employer's familial ties being threatened. "He doesn't need any of them—he's doing fine on his own; not like any of them were fully interested in him or his feelings, or of finding Mistress Angel and her sons, anyways."
He and his wife both agreed that his employer's search was being conducted in the right light and that everything that was being discovered in the search was genuine—why his employer's family wasn't seeing it that way was beyond the both of them but, yeah, they were and, what's worse, it had finally gotten to Miss. Eshal. Upon discovering that her father had been threatened of his family status, and that he had been barred, and then banned, from the planet Earth, Miss. Eshal had gotten mad. Instead of standing back, and letting the adults handle things, she had spoken her mind on what was going on; after doing this, she had latched onto the idea of being allowed to be on a television program—the likes, of which, she hadn't, really, picked out just yet; it had taken the combined efforts of his employer, and his mother, to see what program the girl would be on.
Miss. Eshal was showing a lot of strength for one her age; even though he wasn't related to her, he couldn't help but be proud of her—if not for the rich respect that both she and her father gave to him, his family, and to his co-workers and their families, he wouldn't be this prideful of her. He had seen the girl grow into the confident, strong thing that she currently was and he had also seen two of her four brothers grow into what they had been before they, and their mother, disappeared; they had all been good kids—despite the normal moments, where they had done troubling, or indecent, or near-indecent things, they had been good kids. Lhaklar, when he had gotten to walking around real good, had almost always been at his elbow; Bile had been Kalach's and Losal's constant buddy. Even though he and his co-workers had kept up with their job duties—of cleaning the house, and of making sure that everything in the house was in good shape—they had also kept up with the kids. A good example of this occurred about a hundred and ten years before the five members of his employer's family disappeared: one day, after noticing that Bile and Lhaklar were doing nothing but sitting around, being bored out of their wits ends, he had made the decision to take them outside for a game of fetch. Bile had had a good, strong arm on him while Lhaklar hadn't been able to catch at first; it had taken the boy four or five tries before finally being able to catch and then throw the ball back to him.
His and his co-workers's kids had all had their moments with Bile, Lhaklar, and Eshal; the girl Goblin children—who, in his species' culture, during their childhoods, were called Goblies; when they reached their teenage years, this term changed to Goblinette—had played and interacted with Eshal while the boy Goblin children—who were simply called Goblins in their culture—had played and interacted with Bile and Lhaklar. His two, older sons had been caught wrestling with Bile several times; Lhaklar had been caught making mud-pies with either Losal's son or with one of Eldass's sons on a few occasions as well. Even though Hazaar had been too young to join in on the play antics of the older children, he had been socialized with a few of the infant children that had been brought up from the servants quarters from time to time; due to Lazeer being too weak to partake in the socializing game, he hadn't been allowed to be around any of the staffs' offspring.
His employer's father—a man who he really thought shouldn't be allowed to create, or be allowed to raise, offspring—had been particularly cruel with his son during his childhood; Master Tazir hadn't been allowed to be a kid at all, and that went double with his not being allowed to enjoy his teenage years as well. Master Tazir had been quite encouraging to his sons on their enjoying the "fruit" of their childhood years. Go on, be boys. Play in the mud; get dirty. Scrape a knee; get into trouble, he recalled his employer saying on more than one occasion—Bile might of taken this encouragement a bit too far; that boy had been keen on coming inside with either his elbows or his knees scraped, or with a bruise or two being present on his body, or with his clothes being all dirty, or muddy, or torn to bits. Bile had also been prone to getting into a bit too much trouble from time to time as well. Lhaklar had been more of a clean freak; while liking to play with mud, or dirt, he had also liked to be clean while doing so.
"Eclaire just about screamed herself raw one day after Young Bile walked into the hallway that she had just gotten through cleaning." he recalled as he sat in his old, comfy, brown leather chair. "Young Master Bile's shoes, socks, and the lower portion of his pants were a mud-logged mess—instead of staying outside for a few minutes to clean himself up, or to remove the items that were dirty, or overly muddy, he just entered the house as-was."
Master Tazir had been a much more patient, and lenient, parent to his offspring than his own father had been to him; even though he had given out the needed discipline from time to time, he hadn't gone as far as to degrade or physically harm his children while doing so. The man hadn't used any sort of weaponry—a belt; a stick; a whip, etc.—or his fists to discipline his kids with; while stern during his disciplining, he hadn't been but so rough when it came to their needing to be disciplined—he was personally glad for this; he wouldn't want to be working for one who abused their children, or who tried to keep their children from doing the things that a child was suppose to do during their growing up years. It had just been the normal type of discipline that his employer's children had gotten—a spank here, a spank there; a grounding of some sort; an appropriate lot of chores being given out; no dessert after supper, etc.
The act of over-doing it in the disciplining department had been done by Bile's actual father; he remembered a time, when the man had come over for his twice weekly visit to see his son, when he had been especially rough with the boy. Young Bile, who had been no more than four hundred and ten years of age, had been playing near the edge of a mud-pond on this visit; Master Vile, after seeing where his son was, and what he was playing with, had demanded for him to get up and then come to him. Bile, who, even at that age, hadn't really had any sort of relationship with the man, had come back with a no very quickly; the man, in response to both seeing and hearing his son not doing as he had told him to do, had rushed forward—a rather hysterical Bile had rushed into the house about a minute and a half to two minutes later. Not only had Master Vile grabbed his son up by his arm but he had also beat him half a dozen times with a stick; Mistress Angel had just about had a cow after noticing that her young son's bottom end had turned a purple color during the night hours.
"Master Vile did that a lot with Young Bile," he thought as he took the remote up from the nearby side table. He sat back in his chair a second later, after turning the tv on then placing the remote back on its stationed table. "The man's "disciplinary" skills started showing almost immediately after the boy started moving around real good; if not for Master Tazir's, and his wife's, threat of not letting him come over to visit and spent time with him he would of gotten worse with him."
Like her husband, Mistress Angel had been an excellent parent; instead of lazing around, reading a book, or doing needlework, or concerning herself with what all needed to be done in the kitchen, and instead of taking advantage of her husband's wealth and power, she had been involved in the raising of her young. She had done more than tend her sons and Eshal; she had socialized them well, had taught them how to use a sword by first showing them the steps by using a stick, and she had also been involved in their home-based schooling. Lhaklar, a book worm, had taken on the role of being a sort of geek during his tutoring hours; he had gotten A's on all of his work while Bile, who had been more focused on his physical strengths than his mental ones, had gotten mostly B's and C's on his. His employer's wife, one day, after the two-hour tutoring session was done, had once confided in him by saying that boy will be a big man one day, but I fear that he might slip in brain power; if Bile hadn't of kicked the phase that he had been going through, the one that had caused him to think that his studies weren't as important as they really were, that would of happened.
Not a day went by without his wishing that the two, younger children had been in the developmental stage where they were both moving around more freely and speaking in either coherent sentences or using coherent words at the time of their disappearance—he bet that that would of been fun... having five children running around in his employer's mansion, along with hearing the many things that came out of their mouths, and seeing their everyday antics. He could imagine it now; the floors, and walls, of his employer's home would be bouncing along as the biologically related boys ran around with their half-brother, getting into trouble and just plain causing everyone in the house to either roll their eyes, laugh, or look at the ceiling. Oh boy, the mansion would of been full of yelling had that of happened. Even though they had different fathers, and different personalities, Bile and Lhaklar had been especially close to one another; when they were together, they had been as loud as could be. Lhaklar, who had been the more calmer of the two boys, had only slipped into being the quiet boy when his brother wasn't around him; Bile, even while being in the house, and even when his brother wasn't in his immediate proximity, had always been loud.
He remembered a time when a rather stressed out Mistress Angel had placed a call to her father; along with doing the usual in asking him how he was, and in telling him how she was fairing, she had also asked him the question on how both her older, half-brother—Rito—and himself had acted when they had been Bile's age. Instead of getting some normal-made advice, or a shoulder to lean on, she had gotten the old usual insults and get-ons—putting it nicely, the man had responded by saying that neither he, Rito, or Triskull had acted in the way that his son did; he had also come back with saying that it was the spoiling of his son, and of the ill-one, as he had called Lhaklar back then, that was causing him to act in way that he was. The man had pinned a lot of blame on Mistress Angel for how their son "acted"; he was still surprised that the woman had wanted to place any calls to the man, or had wanted anything to do with him. The man hadn't treated her, or her sons, right; with the way he had been with her, he had surely not deserved her attempts in wanting to be in contact with him.
"In accord to his definition of the word, the Young Masters, and Miss. Eshal, were definitely not spoiled." he thought as he waited for the first program on his and his family's interest lists to come on.
While the boy, and his siblings, had been spoiled, he hadn't been overly-spoiled or spoiled in the wrong way; Master Tazir had been gift-savvy with all of his offspring—he had gotten the children a few toys, color or paint-by-number kits, books, and models a month. He had loved them kids, which was why he had been so savvy in getting them the enrichment items that they had played or interacted with during their early childhoods; the man had also been gift-savvy with his wife—Mistress Angel would find herself getting a couple of dresses, or other feminine wears, and some jewelry about two to three times a month. The man had also gone out of his way to get her two new pets, and he had also let her re-decorate one of the rooms in his mansion; an empty room, that had been located on the house's fourth level, had been turned into a room full of flowers soon after the opportunity had been made available—that room was still around to that day; Master Tazir was the main one who kept it in tip-top shape. He replaced the flowers when they died; he added new flowers after noticing that an area in the room was starting to look a bit sparse; and he watered and tended the flowers when he was home—when the man wasn't at home, the chore in doing that would go to either he or Eldass.
His employer had done all of this because of one thing and one thing only—he had loved each and every one of them. He had shown his love by expression of not only word but by also action; they had reciprocated his efforts perfectly. Mistress Angel, a woman who had had such a rough introduction into the family that she had been both born and married into, had given him ample amounts of love, trust, and respect and she had also given herself over to him fully. Bile had been fond of playing Search For Daddy in the morning and early evening hours and he had also been fond of keeping his eye out for things for the man whenever he and his mother were out on the nearby cities and towns—on one of them trips, a very expensive ashtray had been purchased. Young Bile, who had known that his father's birthday was just two days away, had wanted to get the man a little something for the occasion and he had done so by getting him that ashtray—which was still owned, and in the house, to that day. And Lhaklar had been fond of jumping, and then climbing up, his father's body, or on his back, to give him big hugs—this child of his employer's had once gotten his mother to buy his father a very elaborate, and expensive, bat decoration, which his father had more than gushed over after waking and then finding it, and a hand-written letter from his son, on his night table the day following its purchase.
Back then, they had been a normal, happy family; now, with Mistress Angel, and her sons, all gone, all he saw was an incomplete family... one that was no longer happy, or content with the world around them. This unhappiness had rubbed off on each of the man's staff; he, and all of his co-workers, worked as they should, but it was very evident that everyone was depressed over the loss of their employer's wife and sons.
The loss of most of his employer's family was much like this: the silver lining had stopped being silver; the gold mine, along with the water well, had gone dry; and the rays of the spheres that the planets in their galaxy orbited had stopped raining down to brighten their lives... That and more was what had happened after Mistress Angel and her son disappeared.
"Can they be any slower tonight—think I counted five commercials in just a minute and a half's time." his lovely wife, whose birth-name was Abara Komav, but who's married surname was his own, said after finally getting herself situated in the chair that sat directly across from the one that he was sitting in.
"Won't be much l—" the sentence that he was about to say was instantly dropped after the program that they were waiting to see came on. He and his wife said not a word more; they simply sat and stared at the screen. Their children followed in their example by doing the same.
"Hello everyone, it's nice to have you all tuned in this morning; we hope that you had a good night's sleep because we, at Exposure Hour, have much to talk about." Upegt Ulinaph, a short man who had tusks growing out from the sides of his mouth, and large, green eyes, said. "To my right is the first of our very special guests," a better than fine image of his employer's daughter was shown after the camera panned to the program's host's right; the white bar that was under her said EshalVile Eskara Surfeit, daughter of TazirVile Surfeit and Bespe Rakaduc, adopted daughter of Angel Irene. "A call was placed to our network late last night by Ms. Surfeit, who wanted a chance to be on our show to speak of the recent developments that she, and her father, have encountered over the previous week. Ms. Surfeit—" Upegt Ulinaph turn to Eshal, who flinched soon after he turned to look at her. "—how have you been and how have you, and your father, been coping with the events that have happened in the previous week?"
"We've seen better, Mr. Ulinaph." Eshal replied after a moment's hesitation.
"What's wrong?" Upegt Ulinaph asked. "From what the news reports have said, you and your father were thrilled to utmost happiness last week; what's happened to make you two's happiness drop?"
"My family and their ways," Eshal replied quickly. "Most of what we're currently going through stems from what happened a few days ago—my grandfather... he called my father then told him that he's going to be disowned if he doesn't stop looking for my mam."
Poor girl, Homsi thought; while she looked to of been given a good schooling on how to act while on the set of a television program it also looked like she was having a difficult time in controlling her emotions and on keeping her anxiety in check—the show's host had given her a few signals that everything on the set was fine and he had already held the box of tissues out to her; she had merely given her head a shake after seeing them.
The show that he and his family were watching wasn't a relatively new one; even though it had been moved from one channel to the next, and had gone through a few time-slot changes over the years, it had been shown on the tube for the last five hundred and twenty-four years. Upegt Ulinaph had been appointed as its host about eleven years ago—a dispute between the television network that the show was aired on and Luanie Ecosoon, the show's former host, had caused the former host to pack his bags and then leave for some other program that he had been hired to do. The program was one of them tabloid talk types that touched on what was causing the lives of the ones who came on to be "blue". A lot of the time, normal-day people just called the show to ask if they could be on it—if the emotional trauma that the caller was going through was appropriate for the show, the person would be allowed to be on the show.
The female guests that were allowed to be on the show typically spoke of the issues that they were having with their marriages, or that revolved around their inability to find the other party that was responsible for the creation of their child, or of their life in general. Quite surprisingly, the men that got on the show had more issues to cover—like their inability to have children; or of their being shunned by the girl of their dreams; or of the issues that they were having with their parents, or with one, or more, of their siblings; or of the problems that they were having with drugs, or with alcohol, or even with smoking regular cigarettes; or of their finding, and then keeping, a job. A lot of the time, the viewers of the show just sat and shook their heads, or laughed themselves to a coma; he had a feeling that none of that was to happen during that night's—or, since it was day-break where Miss. Eshal and her father were, morning's—broadcast. Upegt Ulinaph had just asked the question on why Miss. Eshal's grandfather was giving the option of disowning one of his children a consideration; Miss. Eshal looked about ready to throw everything that was bogging her down on the table.
"Because they don't care!" she near-exclaimed. "They want us to forget all about my mam—they want her, and my brothers, to be locked away in a closet. They're acting almost like they don't want her, or my brothers, to be found."
"Could you be mistaken about that? They could be hurting and—"
"No, I'm not mistaken. You don't just drop someone that you love like that," Eshal snapped her fingers. "When you love someone, and they go missing, you don't just search for a while before stopping and then saying that they're dead-ends—not important enough to continue searching for. You don't just go by your life thinking nothing of that person. That's not how it works—when you love someone, you stick by them forever; you don't just love them for a short while then drop them like a bad service."
"That bad?" Upegt Ulinaph asked. The man who was manning the camera was able to catch Mr. Ulinaph's Adam's apple rising, and then falling; it looked like the man had been effected by his guest's words.
"Yes! Everyone's acting like my father's attempts in trying to find and then bring my mam and brothers home is wrong. What are we doing that's so wrong?" Eshal looked at the camera. For a fraction of a second, Homsi thought that he saw the ghost of the face that she would, one day, possess as a grown woman. "We're looking for one of ours that we love—we are not giving up hope! What's so wrong in our trying to find them... and what's so wrong in our getting excited when we're finally getting leads on where they are?"
"So... it's true? Angel Irene has been seen?" Upegt Ulinaph asked.
"Yes—we have several photographs of her, and of another that we think is Lhaklar, the second-oldest of my baby brothers, hunting. There was one person who called saying that he spoke to her—he said that, when they spoke to one another, she used her real name!" Eshal replied right when one of the show's audience asked to speak. Upegt was quick in giving the signal for that person to be given a mic.
"Honey, we have all been watching the broadcasts from this previous week—I think I speak for everyone in the audience when I say that what you and your father are doing is a great thing. You two should be proud of yourselves, I'm sure that your mother is." the woman said after she had been given a mic. "If one of my children went missing, or if my husband went missing, I would be doing the same as you two are. You two are doing nothing wrong."
Exposure Hour was like this; the members of the audience—who were really nothing more than hand-picked individuals who had just been picked up from the street—would talk and give advice to the ones that were on the stage. Viewers of the show would also be allowed to call the program for a chance to speak to the program's guests on what was causing them grief. Usually, only five people were allowed to call in; in contrast, over double of that number from the hand-picked audience would be allowed the "honor" of speaking to the program's usually wacky-consisting guests.
Several people were allowed to stand and talk; many that stood praised Eshal and her father for their searching, wished them good luck, and gave them their support. There was one who said that it might be time for them to give it up—this one individual was glared at by a majority of the members in the audience. A woman had just given Miss. Eshal a good piece of advice on staying strong and on keeping her spirits high when the screen went dark; a series of boring commercials came on, which allowed him enough time to use the toilet. He had just reclaimed his seat when the program returned to the network.
"Welcome back," Upegt Ulinaph said. "Quite a lot's happened since the break—Ms. Eshal has spoken with nine wonderful people; we are about to take our first caller of the morning. Ms. Eshal—" Mr. Ulinaph looked at Eshal, who, despite having a very tear-leaden face, was very calm. "—are you ready for caller number one?"
"Yessir, Mr. Ulinaph." Eshal responded.
"Our first caller happens to be..." two cards were given to Mr. Ulinaph; he looked at the first card for only a second before discarding it. When he looked at the second card, his brow became furrowed. "Our first caller will not be allowed to speak to Ms. Eshal due to his being her grandfather—we at Exposure Hour do not want any fighting to happen in this tender time. The next caller will be allowed to talk now. Can you hear me, ma'am?"
"Yes—I can hear you loud and clear, sir." the honey-sounding voice that came through the screen's speakers was very nearly missed by everyone in the room; if not for the tingle that traveled down his spine, he wouldn't of noticed it.
"What is it that you wish to say to Ms. Eshal, Ms. Bakerly?" Homsi sat upright right after hearing the name of the caller. Ms. Bakerly? The show's host could not of just said that name!
"Is she able to hear me?"
"Yes," Upegt and Eshal said in unison.
"They're still the same, aren't they? After all of these years, they still act like they know it all don't they?"
"Huh?"
"You've grown well—gotten much bigger, and much prettier, than what you was when I last saw you."
"Ms. Bakerly..." Upegt Ulinaph looked uncomfortable and confused; Eshal looked both confused and curious at the same time.
"Who are you?" Eshal asked. "Ms. Bakerly? That sounds similar to what was put on the sign-in sheet at Goggles For All."
"That's because I am the one who signed in there, dear." the woman replied.
"Mam?"
"Yes dear. Figured that this would happen one day... but I never imagined that my taking off with the boys would spark this type of searching, or hurt, to happen with you guys." the jaws of everyone in the audience, along with everyone who was watching the program, were dropped. Homsi had pulled forward in shock. "I've been keeping up-to-date on things—had to after what happened on Viro."
"W...where've you been?" Eshal began crying. "eh... are my br-brothers o-o-okay?"
"I can't answer that—you guys have to find that out for yourselves. I'll give you, and everyone who's watching your show, a clue on where we may be, though. You listening?"
"Yes,"
"Up to recently, you've been searching in all the wrong places. Keep searching where you was told to not search and you might just find something."
The program, which had only just started being run, ended rather quickly for him, and for a good many other people, he presumed, after the call was concluded; Homsi, who caught nothing of what happened after the click of the program's call being put to a close occurred, got up from his chair, tripped over its matching ottoman, then ran to the door of his and his family's quarters, which was located under his employer's mansion. Before he could get out of his quarters, the phone rang; his wife, who was still seated in her chair, had her hand to her mouth—she, as was everyone else in his house, was staring at the television screen in shock. He had a feeling that everyone in the staff's quarters were gawking at their screens... and were probably trying to put what they had just seen, and then heard, into an appropriate slot in their brains.
He ran over to the phone, which was near the apartment's kitchen, and which was one of them normal, hand-held types—he wasn't one of them elegant types, nor was he one for living the elegant lifestyle. He preferred to live like what he was—a peasant. He was content with the life that he had; he didn't need oodles and globs of cash sprouting from his pockets, or a garage that housed anywhere between ten to twenty cars, or a mansion or two to call his own, or three pools in one. In his mind, he had all that he could ever ask for—a four-bedroom, bath and a half apartment; his old, Chevrouette Capie; his better than well-paying job; his health; and his family.
When he got to the phone, he came very close to both ripping it from its base station and dropping it to the floor—he was still worked up from what he had seen, and heard, on the tv; it was probably going to take him a day or two to get over what he had just witnessed. His caller wasn't who he had expected him to be; instead of finding his caller to be his employer, TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, who was wanting a confirmation on what had just happened, or who was about to give out a series of orders, the one that was on the phone's other end was none other than his employer's neighbor and good friend, Gloar Rovnitov.
"Hello?" he said after placing the phone to his ear.
"I know that you, along with a good many of other folk, saw the exact same thing that I and my wife just saw." Gloar Rovnitov said.
"I did—I'm trying to calm myself down but, yes, I heard it." Homsi replied.
"I imagine that they're going crazy on Zeta Ren," Gloar said. "The program was cut soon after her call was ended—Eshal was just sitting there, with her mouth agape in shock."
"Don't blame her—I was sitting here with my jaw near-dangling to the floor."
"Nearly fell out of my chair when... she exposed who she was." Gloar cleared his throat twice; it sounded like he was still coming to grips with what he had just seen and heard on his television set. "Vixbie and the kids are going crazy over here."
"The missus and the kids over here are still transfixed to the screen." Homsi said. "I nearly ran out the door, to tell you the truth."
"By any chance do you think you can give me the current number to Tazir's cellular?" Gloar asked. "Maybe I can be of assistance in bringing her in this time."
"Don't think he'd let you become involved but, yeah, I'll give you his number." Homsi said, he then began reeling out the number that went to his employer's new cellular phone. "7...7...1...5...4...3...8...5...4...2—don't be surprised if he can't be reached for a while. He'll probably be using his phone for a few hours."
"I understand, I'll still call and leave a message though." Gloar said. "I hope her father and that family of Tazir's was watching when that call was sent through. They got a good kick in the face on that one."
"Hope so as well," Homsi said. His wife, he was quick to note, had just gotten up from her chair. She looked to be moving around in a sort of daze "Gloar, gotta go. My missus calls me."
"Talk soon—keep the hope and the faith running."
"Always."
The program had the same effect as that of one discovering at the last possible moment before going to bed that the one that they were closest to in their family had just passed away—not only wasn't he allowed to partake in watching the other programs on his family's lists but he was also not allowed to sleep. From the looks of some of his co-workers, it looked like that same notion had been experienced in many other households as well. Eldass Zultoa came in with very heavy bags under his eyes; his oldest son, Zshon, looked to be in a daze when he punched his ticket into the appointed punch-in machine; Losal Khrelan looked about ready to fall over his feet for about an hour before finally getting control of his coordination skills; and many others were seen as having heavy-duty coffees on their persons. Soon after waking, then doing his morning routine, then saying goodbye to his family, then punching his ticket into the machine, he went to work; instead of being quick in doing what he could in the house, he did his chores slowly—so to keep himself from thinking about what he had seen on tv last night, and of what he had seen in that morning's newspaper.
As was natural, the top stories that were heading the papers were about his employer's wife—No Longer Thought To Be Deceased: Angel Irene Calls Show, And Proves To All That She's Alive was the headline for the first story that had been put in that morning's paper. While no interviews had been done on the members of her family, or on her husband and daughter, it was presumed that everyone was more than a little shocked over what had happened last night; he, himself, had heard nothing from his employer since last night's episode of Exposure Hour was aired.
Even though no one spoke during the first six hours of the workday, everyone knew what the other was thinking—and everyone knew that, at one time in the day, the subject about the show's surprising caller would be brought up and then discussed nonstop. He was glad that the first six hours of that day were silent and slow in going by—though tense, and though wanting to talk, he also wanted a bit of peace before the mayhem began. As it just so happened to be, he was meandering into the room that his employer had set to the side nearly sixteen hundred years ago when the first conversation on the show was done; after entering the room, then stopping to look around, he turned to close the door halfway.
"He fixed this room up himself—no assistance was given by family, or Goblin, hands when everything was taken out or when everything that's in here was put up." he thought after halfway closing the door.
There were several shelves and bookcases in the room; framed newspaper articles, or newspaper articles that were being held up by a wooden, or plastic, stand, stood on two of the room's bookcases while all sorts of video tapes and discs, all that contained the news broadcasts, bulletins, and interviews that had been done over the years, lined two of the present bookcases. The photographs of the women who had been thought to be his employer's wife were on the shelves of another bookcase while, on another, there were photographs of the folk who had been thought to be his sons. Everything was aligned all nice and neat; nothing was out of order or was out of place. The bookcase that was near the window contained picture albums on its shelves; duplicate newspaper articles were in each of them albums' pages.
He walked about this formerly un-used room for a bit; the idea of his employer bringing his wife, and whatever offspring he found with her, into the room after she was found and then returned home buzzed around his head like mosquitoes—he could very well imagine the man doing just this. The man, who had just brought his wife, who was way long overdue in coming home, home, would want to show her, and the young ones that he'd also return home with, what all he had done in trying to find where she was. The man's efforts in trying to find her were displayed all over the place, so Mistress Angel wouldn't have to wonder about what all he had done with his life during her absence for long. He could imagine the woman taking one of the picture albums, or one of the framed, or non-framed, newspaper articles, down from its respective place and then taking a seat somewhere in the room to look the contents over; the returned children would probably be a bit bored about what all they were seeing but their mother would be very interested in what was in the room. He, who had done something similar—he had an album stashed under his and his wife's bed; he had a majority of the room's newspaper articles and photographs in it too—, could imagine the look that overcame the woman after she took note of her husband's efforts in trying find her and her children. The woman would probably be very humbled by his efforts; she'd probably—
"Whoa, Homsi!"
He was walking into his co-worker, Losal Khrelan, who he had completely missed in seeing in the room, right when he started thinking about his loyalty to the family that he worked for.
Like with most of his co-workers, his loyalty to his employer's wife had been sealed a long time ago; a few weeks before Lhaklar was born, he, along with all of his co-workers, had been asked to go to the house's library. Eldass had been the leader of the meeting; the man, who had been all nicely dressed in a crisp, white tuxedo and shoes, had stepped forward right after everyone had been accounted for and then gotten situated in the room. Our Master is happy beyond the word and we have his Mistress to thank for that, he had said; she's given him something that he's never had in a partner—she's given him something that even his own family is too proud to give him. Respect and love, ladies and gentlemen—and of the purest form too. I don't know about you guys, but I'm willing to stick my neck out on her. I'm willing to risk persecution by Goblin Law by both writing her name on my papers and by giving her my loyalty.
By the law given out by their species, a Goblin had to be under the employment of another for more than two years before the consideration of loyalty-giving could be done; one also had to wait an additional two years before said loyalty was given over. Eldass had, indeed, stuck his neck out by signing his Loyalty Papers with Angel Irene's name—he could of been shunned by Goblin society. The penalty for doing such a thing was rather extreme: he could of no longer been allowed to mingle with other Goblins, or be able to hold a job for any amount of time, and he could of also been spoken bad of—either untrue rumors or accurate rumors would of been spread of him, which could of caused his standing in their species' society to go further down the tube.
Personally, his initial opinion, and stance, on his employer's wife hadn't been good; while he had initiated the orders that went along with her care professionally, he had done them quickly just to get away from her—a Goblin didn't just get buddy-buddy with one that he didn't know. One in his species was suppose to approach one that they didn't know with either disdain, apprehension, or plain nastiness. He had executed the early-made orders given to him in looking after his employer's wife's well-being with both disdain and apprehension—at that time, he had concerned himself with just popping his head into the room that she was in, and in "throwing" her enough food and water to keep her sustained for a few hours; he had also done a lot of grumbling when time came for him to aid in cleaning her up, or when any of her injuries were in need of being tended, or when she needed to be looked after after she was noted as being on the sickly side.
At the time, with her constantly assaulting him, and his co-workers, and with her mouth constantly being run without check, them actions of his had been "under warrant". Losal Khrelan, the man that he was currently giving a quick apology to, had been one of the Goblins in their employer's service to treat the woman in the more extreme way that one in their species regarded one that they didn't know.
A good example of Mr. Khrelan's actions towards her lie in the events that occurred after Master Vile, and their employer's father, showed up for a surprise visit; Master Tazir had just gotten home, and he had just given a then-infant Bile to his mother, when the bell went off. Losal had been the only one in the area at the time so he had been the only logical one to grab and then get the chore in keeping everyone in the room silent; since Miss. Eshal, who had been a very young toddler at the time of this event's occurrence, had been in the room at the time, she had also been one of the people that Losal had been given the instruction to keep quiet. While one of Losal's appointed charges had been quiet the other two hadn't; Mistress Angel had done a few moans and groans after succumbing to a bout of her Mately Pains and Bile, in response to his mother's stress, had started to cry. While Eshal had been left alone, Bile had been picked up and then put in the room's closet; only after closing the closet door had Losal gone to quiet their employer's then-unknown-to-them wife—after seeing his two visitors out of his house, and then going upstairs, and then entering the room that he had left everyone in, Master Tazir had found a situation that had just about caused his blood to boil.
Mistress Angel, who hadn't been Mistress Angel at the time of this event's occurrence, had been on her knees near one of the room's walls; Losal had been behind her—thanks to the way his hand was clamped over her mouth and nose, she had been bleeding. Even though Master Tazir had gotten on Losal for his actions Losal hadn't seen any wrong in what he had done.
"Eldass did the usual after slitting his finger—the blood that he used when he wrote Mistress Angel's initials on his Loyalty Papers was pooled into a small, ceramic bowl; a small, ink-less pen was what he used when he signed the woman's name to his papers." he thought after Losal accepted his apology.
After putting the initials of Mistress Angel's name under the initials of their employer's name, Eldass had looked up and then at all of them; even though what he had done was serious, and could of gotten him into a lot of trouble, he had looked quite prideful of what he had done. After a few minutes of considering his co-worker's words, and following action, and then in thinking over what had been going on in the house for the last few months, he had followed in Eldass's example—there had been a lot of are you crazy's being thrown his way after he had asked if he could use the bowl, and pen, that Eldass had used to sign his papers with and there had also been a lot of gaspings, mumblings, and head shakings going on as well. While around half of his co-workers had followed in Eldass's, and his, example in signing their papers with Mistress Angel's initials there had been some who had downright refused to do so—Zshon, Daosi, Yhozah, and Mekaia Zultoa had followed in their father's example, as had Eclaire, Entantya, and Spleehae. Kalach Speelin had signed his Loyalty Papers a few hours after the meeting occurred while his brother had made the decision to not sign his; Abevo had only placed Mistress Angel's initials to his papers after returning home from his stay at KurukVile Surfeit's place. The Gzujus twins, Ulok and Olok, had refused to place the name on their papers; their papers had lacked Mistress Angel's name for all of six years before finally having it placed on them. It had taken Losal around ten years before the decision to place her name on his papers was made.
In all, it had taken around twenty years before their employer's wife's name was placed on the papers of everyone in his employer's service.
"You look a little out of it this morning." Losal said after noticing that he was doing nothing more than staring into space.
"Huh? Oh, well... didn't get any sleep last night—that's most of the issue that I'm dealing with." he said.
"The rest is the shock from last night's show," Losal said. "Know the feeling; going through it myself."
"Yeah,"
"Did you hear about how Vile put a blocking squad around Earth?" Losal asked after a few moments of silence had fallen between them. He responded by shaking his head. "The radio, about an hour ago, said that he put a squad up to block Master Tazir from getting on the planet."
"Even after last night's show, he's still adamant on keeping our employer from searching the planet?" he asked.
"Looks like it."
"I'm quite confident that Master Tazir will get on the planet," Homsi said. "Didn't the guy see the program last night?"
"No—all shows that have mentions of his daughter in them have been blocked from being aired in the M-51 Galaxy." Losal replied. Homsi snickered silently at this—if not for the spell that he, and, he guessed, all of his co-workers, along with some of the other population in the galaxy, had used, they wouldn't of been able to see the program at all. "From what I've heard, our employer's brother, father, grandfather, and that Trob-guy took a few-hour trip to one of the planets in one of their conquered galaxies to see the show."
"What's Vile's problem?" Homsi wondered aloud. "Doesn't he want Mistress Angel, and her sons, to be found?"
"He doesn't care... he's never really cared about any of them, actually." Losal replied. "Remember what Mistress Angel said when she told us about how he allowed his staff to discipline her?"
He remembered all to well what she had told them; he and Losal had found their employer's wife in the library one day about two hundred and nine years after she, and Young Bile, were fully integrated in the household. She had been upset at the time; after seeing her in her current state, they had gone into the room, and then straight up to her, to see what was up. Instead of it being an issue in her marriage that was bogging her down, she had been upset over something that her father had just gotten through speaking with her about. Right after reaching her side, then asking her what was wrong, she had confided in them about her fear in what her father would do if he ever got permission for Bile to stay at his place overnight.
One of her father's employees had had the nerve to strike her across the face with a book after she had been turned back in age from being two hundred and thirty-eight to five; this man, who's name was Lynster something-or-another, had simply taken the book to her small self without concern for his own life or job. Another man in Master Vile's service had been around to witness this event—instead of going forward to stop the assault, this man, who's name was Kelso something-or-another, had simply stood and watched as it happened. Their mistress had confided in them a fear of hers that revolved around her father allowing his staff to cause harm to their son if he was ever allowed to spend a full night, or day, or a couple of days, at his place; Losal had been furious, as had he, after being told what they had—instead of being quiet on the issue, or giving her a one-shot piece of advice on what to do, they had urged her to tell their employer what she just told them. Neither of them had ever heard of one using a book against a child before; the use of a book to discipline a child with sounded then as it still sounded now to be a very profound way to discipline a child with.
When their employer confronted his nephew on this his nephew had acted as if it wasn't important—the question on Young Bile spending an off-night, or a day or two, at his father's place had been answered right after the man had shown no reaction to how one of his staff had used a book to discipline his daughter with. For Bile's safety, and for his mother's sanity, and emotional health, he had remained under the roof that his mother, adoptive father and sister, and younger, half-brother were living under.
"I remember—acted like it was no big deal." Homsi replied.
" 'You let your servants beat your children; no wonder Angel wants nothing to do with you, and no wonder she doesn't want Bile near you.' " Losal repeated what his employer had said on the day that the were conversing about. He changed the subject after speaking this; with a simple gesture of his hand, he began another subject. "I've been looking at the photographs of Master Tazir's sons for about five minutes now. Been trying to figure out who that other youth is."
"Lhaklar was pretty much seen and identified—images only show but so much; can't wait to see him in person." Homsi said. "Not sure who the other youth is."
"Can't be Hazaar," Losal said.
Owing to how well trusted he and Losal were in their employer's staff, they had both been allowed to hold Hazaar and Lazeer—the former a few hours after he was born and the latter about twenty to thirty minutes after he was brought home from the hospital.
Hazaar, he remembered, had looked them over once or twice before looking over at his father; he had done that a couple of times before getting fussy. Baby Hazaar had been a medium-sized baby; he had weighed five pounds, nine ounces, and he had been measured as being fifteen inches from head to foot—his small size hadn't really mattered any because, within day two of his life, he had been moving around so much that his mother had plain refused to do anything with him while standing. Lazeer... he had been such a weak, tired thing after being brought home from the hospital—very little movement had come from him after he had been slid into their arms, and he had only opened his eyes to take them, and the room that they had been in, in once or twice. They had kept the privileged session of being allowed to hold him to just five minutes before giving him back to his mother. He and his co-workers had waited on baited breath after he had been brought home; they had all expected for Mistress Angel to find a cold and still infant in the crib a day to two days after the home-coming occurred—right after coming home from the hospital, the crib that had only just been put in the new baby chamber had been moved into the chamber that their employer and his wife slept in; baby Lazeer had been placed in that crib about an hour to an hour and a half after being brought home.
Mistress Angel had nursed that baby a lot—quite possibly, it had been that that had caused him to go past his expected life expectancy. After reaching the four-month stage of his life, he had weighed nine pounds; he had gone from being so tiny and fragile—from being only five inches long—to being nearly ten inches in length from head to foot. He had also been moving his arms and legs around a little more at that stage in his life. Also, at that stage in his life, he had started to form a little, horizontal ring of red around his head. Even though it was barely noticeable, the photograph that he was looking at showed that thin, horizontal ring of red; Homsi sighed, he wondered what his employer's youngest son would of looked like if he had remained in the mansion for more than three months.
"Can't be Lazeer either," Homsi said. "He was very fragile, and small—although he had gotten bigger, and had put on some weight, during his few months of being here, he was still not very healthy."
"You don't think Mistress Angel went and had an affair on Master Tazir do you?" Losal asked. "That's all I can come up with on that one youth."
"It'd be a shock if she had." Homsi said. He stared at the room's displayed items for a few more minutes before turning and then making a silent retreat; as expected, he went back to work with a mind that was heavily clogged with thoughts.