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isn’t a normal dream, is it?”
    “Define normal.”
    “It’s more vivid, more—why, I haven’t dreamt like this since I left Circanthos . Which can only mean one thing; you’re NOT dead.”
    “Thank you.” Revolvos yawned and stretched his arms, as if feeling slightly confined in his hovering lounge chair.
    “No, no. Don’t you see? Circanthians often talk to each other in dreams. Which means you must be alive and what’s more—close by!”
    “And asleep,” said Revolvos, yawning. “You know, I believe I’m napping in one of those crazy human contraptions called an airplane. I’m feeling quite rested. Dear me, you’d best say what you came to say before I wake up.”
    “Don’t rush me,” said Provost.
    “Is that the Captain I hear speaking?”
    “Right. Okay. Where to begin? After you went back to the Isle of Iciis and discovered the key to translating the Circolar —”
    “The ancient book discovered by our ancestors?” said Revolvos.
    “Yes, yes, and then some of the more…conservative Circanthians, began to complain and forced you to continue your experiments on long range space-time travel from the cave located in the Cocombaca Forest —ah, hah!”
    “What is it?” said Revolvos.
    “Look around you, old man; we’re in that very cave.”
    “Ahhhh, so it would appear.” Revolvos stretched his arms again. “You know, if I do say so, this cave was a brilliant choice on my part. Only one entrance and it’s via the water.”
    “Yes, yes, the location of the cave was brilliant; however, building your own cortext —”
    “CORTEXT!” Revolvos and his hovering chair seemed to leap forward…and yet, as before, remained strangely out of reach. “You wouldn’t happen to have those instructions on you, would you?”
    “This is a dream—remember? Your experiments proved disastrous. In your rush to build a cortext—”
    “A device that allows us long range space-time travel. Think of the possibilities Bewfordios. THINK of the possibilities!”
    “Revolvos—listen to me! You refused to heed my advice about finishing the  translation of the Circolar before building your own blasted cortext…and then, you disappeared!”
    “Disappeared?”
    “To Earth,” said Provost. “Oh!”
    “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
    “You’re getting blurry.”
    “Am I?” Revolvos scrunched up his nose and sniffed. “I believe that pretty little flight attendant is coming down the aisle. Ummm, do I smell chocolate chip cookies?”
    “Hang the cookies, Revolvos. I need to finish. Had you listened to me, had you completed translating the Circolar, you would have discovered your actions had been predicted.”
    “Ah, Hah! Predicted, meaning—unavoidable.”
    “Your impatience, dear mentor, led directly to the problems our people now face with H.G. Wells and the Tsendi .”
    “H.G. Wells?” Revolvos’ blurry form leaned forward. “Isn’t that a coincidence.”
    “You know him?”
    “I might.” Revolvos looked sheepish…or maybe he was just getting blurrier.
    “Yes, well, your friend, ‘coincidentally,’ arrived on our planet at approximately the same time you disappeared. Oh my!” Provost leaned forward, squinting.
    “Is there something in my teeth?” said Revolvos.
    “Yes—I mean, no. All I can see is your teeth. The rest of you has faded.”
    “Then you’d better finish your story.”
    “Right.” Provost was feeling slightly blurry himself. “The problem is, if I cannot locate you and find the Corona-Soter , the savior of our people—also predicted in the Circolar—we’re doomed. The Circanthian race will become extinct. It may already be too late.”
    “Then you must find me and this…what did you call it?”
    “Corona-Soter. I believe I already have.”
    “Bravo! Then, why are you pouting?”
    “I am not pouting. It’s just—”
    “Spit it out.”
    “I didn’t expect the Corona-Soter to be a 14-year-old Earthling with an attitude. The