14. Life after Exporta

 

You know when dogs dream, and they sometimes start doing this running motion. Well, I woke up feeling just like that. In fact, I was actually still running while I awoke. My legs are locked into an automatic treadmill? Because right now my legs are currently moving out of my own accord. My arms are moving in a star shaping form, and I looked to see that my whole body was locked into a machine. The sole purpose looks to be making my body move in ways that I’m guessing is for blood circulation? Was I in a coma or something? How long was I out for?

“I’m up,” I shouted.

“Geez, Olyn!” I looked over to my right and saw that I had woken Kerra up.

“At least the sound of my voice is better than an alarm clock,” I quickly responded. 

“The Doctor said you’ll wake up at around this time.”

“I thought that I had already woken up.”

“You were, but Ceoda f*****g Moore offered you an Exporta,” she smiled at me. 

“Why?” I laughed out. 

“Your old body would’ve taken months to recover, and Quent…Er, I mean, King Remipor, he wanted to ask you some questions as soon as you recover.”

“F**k,” I stared into the ceiling. “I wished they could have asked me first.”

“You were dead asleep and they didn’t want to wake you up.” 

“If I wanted them to clone me, then I would’ve asked them to skip cloning my dick and give me a choice of a new size to pick.”

“Have you even the free hands to check?” teased Kerra, raising hopeful thoughts amongst me. I looked at my already locked hands. 

“Check for me?” I pleaded with a my sweetest tone.  

“O-kay,” she stood up and pulled down my pants to reveal that I have the exact same c**k. “Now check if it’s working, will ya?” I asked. Kerra smiled and slowly breathed on it till my c**k was a semi. The warmth of her breath felt amazing, then she quickly pulled my pants back up.

“I still can’t believe your of the Remelan family,” she said. No doubt she’s been waiting to ask her thousand questions.

“My personality is still the same.”

“Solidly the same as your dick.”

“Can you get the Doctor to stop this machine that keeps moving my f*****g body?”

“Sure, Olyn,” Kerra hovered her finger over the switch that I presume is the get the Doctor button.

“Wait till my semi goes down first.” She giggled at that. 

“Want me to finish you off?” she joked.

“What room is this?” I said, distracted by the largeness of the walls. 

“The Royal Room of Guests, room 23 to be precise.”

“Being here means that they’ve found Quent and-” 

“Its King Remipor now,” she whispered, clearly reminding me of the strict rules of addressing a King.

“Any chance of nick naming him to Remi?” she took a peak under my pants.

“Looks like your balls are still huge, so I don’t see why not.”

“Big balls got nothing to do with my bravery.”

“He’s more different now.”

“Like?”

“He talks without hesitation.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s going to freak out when I call him Remi.”

“Best stick with Remipor for now? Just to be safe ay.” 

“Maybe I’ll go overboard and call him your majesty instead.”

“He changed that to My Ferna.” I chuckled at that.

“Rhymes with Larferna,” I pointed out.

She looked at my downer of a penis. “You ready for the Doctor yet?” she asked, mockingly.

“Press the button,” I wasn’t surprised at the fast service the Royal employers hired, because the Royal staff is known to be the best employees on Earth. My Doctor came in within four-seconds. Some might think he’s been stationed there with the other six guards thats posted outside my room. 

“Lord Remelan, Lady Marcie,” the Doctor smiled. “I’m Doctor 23.” Each Royal room has a separate Doctor, and apparently room 23’s got the best nurse service. But I’m certain Kerra’s sent them away due to their reputation of distracting the Royal guests.

“Hi, Octlyn’s just wondering when he can be excluded from his bed,” asked Kerra.

“Right now actually, our King and his mentor are on their way to see you.”

I frowned from Kerra to Doc 23. 

“Who’s the mentor?” I asked.

“Ceoda Moore,” he responded, then the Doctor shouted, “Guards, I need assistance.” My room door opened and three guardsmen helped me out of the blood circulation machine. 

“Help yourself to any of the clothes you deem fit, from the closet over there,” informed the Doctor, then everyone that isn’t a girl left. Kerra picked out a Royal robe with the number 23 on it. She kept it simple because the Doc said Quent was on his way. So she didn’t want them to arrive during my outfit selection. Oddly enough Kerra was right, as the Guards outside my door started stamping in unison right after I’ve just putted on the robe of 23. The doors started opening and my expected guests walked in. 

“Bring in some cherry and lemon water,” said Quent, ordering no one in particular. I walked to approach the two most powerful people currently on Earth.

“Hi, I’m Ceoda Moore.” She raised her left fist up. 

“Octlyn, or Lord Remelan as the Doctor just called me.” I was beaming out a big grin, while raising my right fist to meet hers. Luckily enough I was wearing a robe that covers my arms, because if not, then Ceoda would have seen the goosebumps she’d given me when our skins met via that fist bump. 

“I thought you tore off your leg?” I asked, looking at Quent. 

“I did. My whole body’s been cloned so I kinda got it back. They had to find my missing leg first, or else I would’ve had to get a clone of someone else’s.”

“You feel better though, right?” 

“I feel healthier. You feeling better?” asked Quent.

“Physically speaking?” I asked.

“Aye.” 

“Well, I feel fit as f**k, like I could cycle for 50 miles without water, type of fit.”

“Same.”  

I directed the question at the inventor instead, “how is that possible by the way?”

“I only cloned your outer body, but your insides are cloned from an athlete,” said Ceoda.

“Who’s the athlete you cloned? Is it someone famous?” I smiled.   

“It was mines,” she smiled back. 

“I didn’t know you trained in sports,” said Quent, in surprise.

“Before inventing Exporta, I was exercising a lot to prevent the chance of dying from being too unhealthy.” 

“Any allergies you should tell us then?” I asked, smiling in formality. 

“Only peanuts,” said Ceoda, chuckling.

“I was already allergic,” stated Quent. 

“I hated that nut anyway. So, question time?” I asked. Ceoda looked over to her assistant and she left, and I did the same with Kerra, and Quent did the same with his 20 plus guards. 

“Rock, paper, scissors for the first question?” I asked.

“Okay, but no best out of threes,” said Quent. I won with a rock and Ceoda and Quent both had scissors. 

“Why did you give me an Exporta then?” I asked. 

“Ask your King.” 

“Why?” I redirected the question to Quent.

“Cause you’re my friend. Plus, I wanted to offer you a job and it requires you to be injure-free.”  

“Look, I don’t want to rely on nepotism to get by, Quent.” 

“You should call him My Ferna. I mean, I don’t really care for the Larferna formalities but your kind might not be so forgiving as Remi,” noted Ceoda Moore.

“Sorry,” I replied. 

“Call me Quent when we’re alone?”

“I will, but I don’t want a job formed from charity.”

“Why you so hostile?” asked Ceoda. 

“I’m confused as to why Quent isn’t mad about my contract, because I am.”

“You were forced into it, right?” I nodded.

“Then thats why,” he said. 

“How about an assistants job?” suggested Ceoda,

“I don’t want to fetch s**t.”

“Tell that to Annel,” Quent smirked out.

“Annel?”

“She’s the Head of Assistants for Ceoda.” 

“What does she do?”

“She texts people for me most times,” replied Ceoda. 

“Yeah great, I’ll quit my head chef job to text for My Ferna instead.” I jested.

“Personal chef then?” Quent offered. 

“Only if I can eat what I cooked.”

“Personal chef and poison tester, two jobs under one employ fee. That’s not a bad hire Remi,” speculated Ceoda. 

“I didn’t think of it like that, I just wouldn’t mind eating with my pal Quen… My Ferna is all. Maybe get someone else to taste if the ingredients aren’t poisoned first?” I asked, giggling hope. 

“Of course, I was just about to mention that anyway. We can even hire Stutra as your assistant?” suggested Quent.

“He’ll hate it but will probably be swayed if Ceoda asked him herself,” I said. 

“Why? I’ve never met the guy before,” replied Ceoda, in a confused manner. First time I’ve met a genius and I’ve already managed to confuse one. That’s something out of my bucket list crossed.  

“Yeah I don’t know, just thought I’ll involve you in our convo for a bit. You seemed zoned out there,” I replied. 

“Just had a new idea for an invention.”

“Tell us?” asked Quent.

“When I’ve finalised it as good enough then you’s will be the first to hear of it.” We were interrupted by a knock on the door. Quent’s butler came in with three glasses of cherry and lemon water, iced to 12 degrees. I knew this because it came with a thermometer straw that you can actually use to sip from. 

“Annel just texted me about my meeting with Meeroc, so I’ll leave you two to catch up without me. Not that we had anything to catch up on anyway, considering we lack history,” said Ceoda Moore whilst rushing to grab for her iced water.

When the big shark in the room left, I finally had a good look at Quent, or Remipor Larferna as everyone else knows him by, which is too much of a mouthful for me, in terms of saliva saving. Quent wore a dark snake skinned shoulder pad on his left arm and a dark brown fox fur cape on the other. Royal members are the only one’s who are allowed to wear any sort of animal products. Underneath he had on a tailored black suit with huge collars on his shirt, in the colour of the Larferna tree. I wanted to call Quent out on his hypocrite act of wearing animal skins, being a vegan and all. But I’ve only known him for two, three days? So I think I’ll hold in my judgments until I’m sure he’s not going to cry every time I criticise him. 

“How the f**k did you get Ceoda f*****g Moore as your mentor?” I said, finally losing all my mannerism once Ceoda walked out. 

“She spent the whole of last night trying to sell herself to me.”

“What the f**k? Sell you what? A f*****g marriage proposal?” I laughed. 

“She’s moved here to live permanently, and when someone who’s used to ruling over a world, such as Planet Moore. Then maybe she would want to rule over ours, so she offered to mentor me, which could possibly sway in her favour, being the ruler’s mentor and all.” Quent sipped a good two mouthfuls of his cherry and lemon water. 

“Thats a risk you don’t take unless the odds are balanced, so what made you accept her mentorship?”

“She’s managed to become chief executive officer of Planet Nero, and has the legal ownership of Planet Moore. Someone with that much experience on managing Planets is the very thing I need on my side right now.” 

“S**t, I didn’t know she was that powerful.”   

“What did you think she did?” he laughed out a surprise.   

“I thought she was just a famous rapper who invested in the right things and became a Quadrillionaire.”

“No one makes that much money without being a little more interesting.”

“Point taken, King Sir.” I mocked. 

“Joking doesn’t disguise your ignorance mate.” He smiled his first genuine smile since Mount Nuru. He relaxed a bit, so I went and asked about my observation of him.

“Kerra says you talk without hesitation ever since you had that Exporta, and I noticed that you tend to speak your mind more confidently now.”

“Must be the accident, being that close to death causes oneself to think what if I didn’t say enough? And I didn’t want to die without anyone knowing how I really thought. I knew then that I had to bypass my shyness to fully express myself.” He took another drink and I drank some also.  

“It must be working because I feel like I know you better with the conversations we just had, than that of the ones we had before all this Kingly s**t happened.” Remi smiled and agreed with the opinion I shared. 

“Think you’ll be confident enough to make your first speech as King then?” I asked.

“I’m confident about giving the speech but not so much on the writing of it.”

“Just pay a literature genius to write it for you.” I giggled out.

“I could, but Ceoda says I’ll reach more hearts if I write it myself.”

“It’ll be more personal too, which might even help with your charisma.” 

“I’ve actually got a lesson this week on how to improve my charismatic skills.” He smirked. 

“Who’s the teacher? Ceoda Moore?” I smirked back at him.

“No, I have her next week teaching me about verbal manipulation.”

“Why verbal and not physical?” 

“You hinting that I should use my body for an influence on others?”

“Seductions a more accurate word for it,” I gave him a blink. 

“Ceoda says it becomes less effective with age, whilst verbal manipulation thrives with age due to experience. But to answer your question, this weeks teacher is you.”

“What the f**k? I’m just a chef mate.”

“A charismatic one it seems.”

“You f*****g with me, right?” 

“Just attempting to.”  

“If you weren’t the King, then I would’ve playfully pushed you by now.”

“Push me if you want,” he said it welcomely. 

“I can’t, even if you let me.”

“Why the heck not?” 

“Your clothes are lined with a sensory device that picks up on forced touches, which then transfers a message to all your guards.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that one.” Quent started running towards my couch and jumped to land on it. About forty guards stormed in through all the secret doors that even I didn’t know room 23 had.

“Hold!” A guardsmen who I guess is the head of our Kings security team is approaching Remipor Larferna, “Are you okay, My Ferna?” 

“Yes, thanks for the surprise visit, Deconi,” said Quent. 

“Guards, dismiss back to your stations,” shouted Deconi. 

“Deconi, this my friend Octlyn,” the guardsmen nodded hello to me, and I did the same.

“You can leave for lunch, Deconi.”

“My Ferna, I thank you.” And there goes big Dec out the room, then Quent turned to face me.

“How did you know about the sensory clothes?” 

“It’s 3015 Quent, all important leaders have it.”

“Now I’m tempted to give Ceoda a wee push.” 

“Pushing you both is the best way to turn an empty room into a sausage party.” We both laughed in the same pitch. 

“I have female guards too, you sexist b*****d,” he balanced his remark with a smile that only kind Kings can do. “But you think I can borrow some of that humour for the speech?” asked Quent.

“If you want to give the whole world a new set of laugh lines, then sure.” 

“I was only being supportive man, don’t get too cocky,” he said, all the while smiling.

“Thanks for putting a halt to my ego.” We both half smiled in unison. 

Quent’s openness seems ripe enough to ask him an intimate question, but I couldn’t bring myself to mention the one person that so clearly converted his whole teenage years to sadness. So I postponed asking about my missing brother and continued making stupid jokes instead.