"The Vyton" Sci-fi book strikes again, twice in one post - One for Our Black Hole, and one for the Starry Gazey Pie...

You bought a what!? A black hole?

‘This black hole you bought, Lomey? You’ll have to remind me what the idea was.’

 I’d always been unsure about the precise logistics of my kids’ concept of reasoning and planning. Largely because firstly, I don’t have crystal lenium eyeballs; secondly, there is no way to divine their reasoning without a God-given divining rod; and thirdly, they rarely have thoughts; they have impulses. Such is the burden of parenthood these days, hmm?

But, too late to do anything about it, now the deed is done.

Remind me why I didn’t have him put down at birth?

It sounded mainly like he did the purchase deal because it was going cheap.

‘Yes, surething – cheep, gurgle and glug, too, from what I’ve seen.’ I ungruntled myself and dismissed the whole farcical notion of  buying a black hole. If it was cheap, as far as Lomey was concerned, it must be a bargain. And by definition, therefore, worth having. But he was in uncomfortable, uncommunicating mode, like my brother after a week down the Ganymede Arms.

‘Come on, Lomey, tell me. We’re in the scrap metal, materials and mineral extraction and recycling business – SMMMERB Inc. on the VacNet; Summerbee’s, by word of mouth. We already got a whole artificial asteroid of mixed metals and minerals out there. And another of nucleonic waste. So what are we going to do with a black bleeding hole?’

‘Well,’ he shuffled, ‘I thought we could branch out; it could be a tourist attraction.’

.......

 

And have you heard what the latest delicacy is?

‘We cannot live by bread alone. That’s what they say, Albert.’ Dazz looked at me, and slid a tentacle tip round one of the wriggling sweetmeats. He examined it cursorily and dipped it in the spiced sauce before popping it into his fio.

Mollymol, our maid, cast a few eyes and tendrils over the table, checked the plenitude of food, and tidied a few castaway scraps into her umbilical pouch; for later absorption, no doubt. Satisfied that we would not go short of anything for at least ten minimins, she slithed away to stand at her observation point between the Piriex door and the Drinxpensor.

Albert noddled, ‘It’s right enough. I like a bit of variety in what I eat, sure enough. We even import some delicacies to celebrate special occasions. You know, the kids’ first shell-casting; passing out the H-level classes with honours; gaining our off-planet licence…   

‘Same with us,’ I agreed. ‘Maisie and I enjoy a great variety of dietary delicacies these days, especially now we can afford to dine so much better. We managed to set up a standing order for several lines, for whenever they’re available. You can keep some foodstuffs fresh indefinitely in the suspensy units, you know.’ 

 I wasn’t keen on the way Dazz talked with his inlet orifice still half-full of wriggling food; or the way his tentitips wiggled in Maisie’s direction......

Delving into the deeper side of the Universe, as well as the lighter side