Zawmb’yee Continues The Blog, Chap 9
I’m in the High Priestess’s library. It’s an extravagant abode, and they say I can remodel it if I wish. There are the books, but also the grp’nl is available. It’s like the Internet, but it’s a network that the gods have left and that the elite here in the Kmpamew use to chat, I suppose, but I don’t know exactly. Utcoozhoo started to teach me how to use it, but I never really got into it fully. I’ve been using the up-top Internet that Doug asked Utcoozhoo to install in the caves. I don’t think the elite care about it.
There are what one would expect in a library, y’know, shelves of books and dust, but no librarian, so I suppose I could shout and yell because there’s nobody here. Oh, Kievifkwa, I could make love to Doug on the floor and shout eureka! : his love is overflowing and … Oh, I’m so silly to cry so much, to worry if I’m pretty, when I would have been always, no matter what, in Doug’s eyes. And now I primp and strut among the elite. Oh eujxami!
I’ve been trying to finish my 600 pages of the Ofuye and read the legal documents of office also, but it’s so overwhelming that I do have to leave the daily operations of things, whatever that is, to Gavicte Yenkoi.
There’s a grand four-post, elegantly carved bed in the library, with a ceiling partially mirrored and partially decorated with odd abstract mythological paintings that I suppose are for contemplation and meditation. I suppose, one is to learn, and then meditate on it, or something, or nothing or maybe it’s all a colossal joke. Maybe it’s barbarians in priests’ clothing, wolves with weapons, but what would I know. Oh, Utcoozhoo, why have you abandoned me?
Oh Kievifkwa, I stare at a teddy bear on a shelf, but I hear Utcoozhoo say, “uebihukxa: ‘don’t give power to objects.’ ”
OK, yeah, I have to pull myself together. I am the High Priestess. I’ll study my options. I don’t have to visit James Ziohat today. They are doing the decontamination level 2 today: they’re shaving off all of his hair, including his eyebrows, and washing him again. I’ve been to the up-top world, so I have immunities to the various viruses, bacteria, allergens, and antigens, but the elite at the palace who have never been up-top may be vulnerable to poor James’ sweat and agony. Oh, Kievifkwa, look what his curiosity has brought him on his clumsy cat feet. If he was ever a friend of Doug, he couldn’t be that bad.
The false guru will be stunned and numb. Too bad: seems like a decent fellow. I guess they’ll handle it. They did determine that he doesn’t have epilepsy. If he had, they would have executed him immediately, unless I stayed it, because they’d have problems using flashing lights. I’m glad I didn’t have to decide.