PASSION FOR TINION (WIP Novel 120,000 words)
© Cupideros, October 21, 2006
CHAPTER 35: MOKSHA SLAP CHESS
© Cupideros Monday, May 11, 2009
Heather sat next to Taces a sixteen-year-old boy obsessed with becoming a tunnel engineer. His blond hair and blue eyes satisfied most girls, but he lacked a certain something, Heather did not know. Of course, Taces courted Heather Vesuvius by proximity and as abstractly and tactfully as Quodarian society demanded. No boy can make the first move in love. He always arranged to sit next to her whenever their group went out. His difficulty in making an impression went from wrong clothing choices to his constant outdoors activities. Heather was a bookworm and played soccer, as class required. She loved to watch tennis. Heather understood history to be underground, but the idea of a man being underground half his life digging tunnels didn’t appeal either. So Heather merely smiled and treated him as a distant cousin.
Taces’ heroic nonchalant efforts to appeal to Heather’s senses merely baffled the girl. At times, Heather found him interesting as a historical man. A nineteenth century man. Someone you might interview like a brooding Beethoven. “Why Symphony Number Nine?” Heather’s obvious beauty, namely her golden hair and puppy eyes always forced the eye to her shy smile, which always appeared rather hesitantly some minutes later after she had examined a boy especially.
Taces put his tan arm next to Heather. “Sun is good for you. If you go up high on the ferris wheel out at Toykling Island, you get a nice tan.”
“Oh look, we can watch a preview CyberPage clip of the new Pantherwoman verses The Orangesqueezeman V: Dreamman,” Ciscla shouted, holding the open CyberPage all guests could see. The mixed group of teenagers from fourteen to seventeen gathered at Taces house for a CyberPages party. A common enough occurrence in the Tinon and Gian Worlds. The teens dressed in tee shirts and jeans and gym shoes. Sometimes a person wore long jogging pants gear and designer hoodies. Snack foods and drinks ornamented the drabe tables, music played on the host's Pritee-U1 and they'd watch old films or even played a game of chess. Through CyberPages one could easily transfer a favorite song from their home unit to CyberPages and download it to a temporary storage spot in the Pritee-U1 unit at the party.
“Turn it on,” said Cirque.
“I’m game,” said Daniella.
Femornia, “I’m so, ready.” She pointed, “My salsa … and bowl of tortilla chips … and soda.”
Sylvia cracked open a can of eco-Thyme tea.
Volican dunked himself down on the couch next to Latino Femornia and reached for her chips. He stuffed more than his mouth could take and mumbled, “Re-ady.”
Femornia said, “Are they’re…like no more chips… in the bag?”
“You’re chips smell better,” Volican smarted off.
Taces became distracted at Volican’s comments. It was his party after all. “No more chips?”
“No bud.” Taces replied. “If you stop trying to shy smooch Heather, Taces, we can watch the show.”
“Heather challenged me to a game of chess,” he winked at her, “Volican, you know I’m the best player around and no woman gonna beat me at chess.”
Cirque boasted, “Taces. It is your house. She obligated to let you win.”
All the girls barged in the conversation at once, “Are you guys crazy? Girls do… what they… want! Not what they are told! No courtesy wins in chess like there are no mercy fucks for guys, anymore.”
“Stirred up the honeybees, Whooa!” said all the boys together.
Heather conceded, “After we watch the preview, bring out your chess set, Taces. We’ll see if girls can play chess?”
COMING IN JUNE: PANTHERWOMAN VERSES THE ORANGESQUEEZEMAN V: DREAMMAN.
In Forgon City, Pantherwoman organized her files in her computerlike brain. Several of the Orangesqueezeman’s cronies tend to frequent a certain building downtown. Hmm. This one road, she looked inside her mind’s eye to a map of Forgon City, leads directly to this building. The highest sky rise in town. Time I paid this building a visit. Pantherwoman leaped over several rooftops before dropping down on the singular Activity Street. Activity Street busy path showed children, people shopping, old women, moms with strollers and then Pantherwoman heard someone saying. “Have a drop of Dream Time.” The helpless teenage boy dodged his woodbrown hair and head back and forth trying to avoid the eyedropper dropping a clear thick medicine liquid in his mouth. From the back this funny man had a large rectangular white shaped head, wearing a psychedelic tee shirt and gray pants struggled holding the boy down. No one on the street acted. So Pantherwoman yelled, “Stop drugging that boy!”
The funny strange man turned around. His white face emerged out of a orange pillow-shaped head. He had several large orange drops near his forehead and several of the drops around his mouth, as if someone had tried to put drops inside his mouth and missed. “Pantherwoman!” He pushed the boy to the ground. “I’ll be back to you later tonight, about three-o’clock in the morning, resistant boy. You’ll join the army, marines, navy or something.” The Dreamman ran off.
“Come back, Dreamman!” Pantherwoman yelled. “Stop drugging people. They have a right to sleep in peace without you suggesting thoughts.”
“No they don’t!” He kept running. Occasionally, he’d turn back to Pantherwoman. “You’re forgetting Pantherwoman, in a world where there is no Goddesses or Gods. Man does whatever he wants to whomever he wants for whatever reasons evil or bad he wants!”
“We’ll see about that!” Pantherwoman chased the Dreamman down the long street. Her black latex uniform and bantam stars made her like a slice of night opening into the day. When she was getting close to him, a black man on a bicycle road faster and came real close to her. He yanked his handlebars directly in her direction. Pantherwoman’s panther senses acted. She leaped upward as the Bikeman crashed the curb.
“I’ll get you Pantherwoman.” Bikeman yelled, “Whether in a flood, twelve feet of snow, I’ll be riding my bike watching and waiting for you!” He then rubbed his scrapped bleeding elbow.
Pantherwoman turned back around as Dreamman pushed and shoved pregnant women, girls, old men, intellectual, journalist, bankers out of his way. He kept looking back and Pantherwoman saw his human face stuck in that large white rectangular pillow with all nasty orange droplets around his mouth. He’s giving people drugs during their sleep using the wired system. Pantherwoman increased her speed her strong thighs pushed her stride further and further apart. Her black hair blew in the wind. She came closer and closer as they charged down toward the large sky rise.
“I’m almost home, Pantherwoman. Can’t catch me now!”
Pantherwoman saw a homeless man sitting on the curb with his tin cup out. She saw the Dreamman run by him. Pantherwoman closed in. She reached out her long panther fingers inches away from Dreamman's orange tee shirt, when the homeless man suddenly raised up both his legs like a healthy gymnast in the old now defunct earth Olympics. Pantherwoman had to forget about grabbing Dreamman as she leaped upward. The homeless man raised his legs still higher, until they stretched out vertically. Pantherwoman somersaulted into a ball and her body bounced of the homeless man feet. She unfurled and landed in one of her classic Pantherwoman poses. Crouched bent knees low to the ground with one palm on the pavement and her head up ready for more action. She watched the Dreamman turning into the tallest sky rise in Forgon City. "Damn!"
“Got a dime for the ... homeless,” said the white man, his straggle really, dirty, dirty blond hair draping around his tatterted tee shirt and shoulders.
STAY TUNE FOR PANTHERWOMAN VERSES DREAMMAN COMING IN JUNE AT THEATER’S NEAR YOU.
The movie clip went off.
Cirque said, “Was that weird and creepy or what?”
Femornia said, “The sick… mind of SILTH…what it was.”
Daniella ventured, “Dreamman is slipping drugs into people mouth when they sleep.”
Volican agreed, “If they sleep with their heads facing the ceiling.”
Sylvia disagreed, “With their wired system the liquid could be spritz from anywhere.”
“I’m glad we live in Quodarian. Those Galans deal with so many disappearing freedoms. Now they can’t even sleep in peace,” Ciscla analyzed.
Cirque continued analyzing, “Who was Bikeman?”
Heather said, “He’s one of Orangesqueezeman’s cronies. Pantherwoman hasn’t caught on to him yet.”
Femornia reached and grabbed a chip from her bowl. “SILTH turns… everything normal …into something evil. Bike riding…is every kids privilege … and joy.”
Taces lifted from the couch and launched a common thought, “If Tinion wasn’t so unstable, we’d nuke all the Galans.
Cirque said, “Right. Unstability of our atmosphere might nuke us at launch time.”
Taces expressed a somber expression. “Yeah, that Orangesqueezeman is creepy.” Taces went into a closet and brought out his regulation size chess set. Showing optimism blurted, “On the bright side, we’re over here with the real freedom, while those Galans have illusionary freedom and invisible private pristine torture.” He unrolled the canvas purple and beige board. He placed it on a side table.
Heather took time to sift Taces’ shocking words. “Taces, you sure have a blunt way of putting things as she sat down across from him.
“Hey! I’m the host.” He smiled, “I have to keep everyone happy. Let’s play!”
Sylvia, Daniella, and Ciscla, scooted their chairs next to Heather.
“You’re messing with a Team Aer prodigy,” Sylvia said and sipped up more eco-thyme tea drink.
“She’s a Team Ber, Sylvia.” Taces said and gave her a straight-line smile. This didn’t scare Sylvia but she wanted Taces to experience a serious chess butt whipping now, more than ever.
Ciscla helped placed Heather’s pieces on the purple and beige chessboard. “Remember what I told you, Heather… No thinking about sex until after the game.”
All the girls and boys started laughing. Heather blushed and threatened to clonk her black king piece over Ciscla head.
Cirqed and Taces belonged on the same Team A in school. “Taces’ chess skills rate at the master level.”
Daniella made a scary face. “Oh…I’m as frightened as a girl in Friday the Thirteenth—Not.”
The game began and Heather paid more attention to CyberPage than the match. She moved her pieces after three minutes or less. This unnerved the group of youngsters because, Taces implied girls can’t concentrate on logic. Taces felt upstaged and accused her of putting the game pieces into a CyperPage chess program.
Sylvia stopped sipping her tea and defended Heather, “Taces, she’d need both hands to input a chess position.”
Ciscla jumped on Taces. “CyberPage chess calculates so many different positions, she’d take at least fifteen minutes between moves.”
His soccer pal Cirque boasted. “Calm down man, just beat her.”
“Don’t mind them, Heather. They don’t know… you’re reading a history book, right Heather?” Asked Femornia, a Latino girl a leader on another Team A group.
Heather smiled. “You must be psychic.”
They all laughed.
Heather flipped a page between chess moves. How to Teach Men to Make Soup paralleled war in several ways. In Love, one is penetrated by knowing the opposite sex more and more. So too, is chess a game where one must penetrate deeper into the opposite forces side. Each move in her game came logically out of passages from the ancient pillow book. The game became dense, complex with several series of combinations available to each player. The group of teenagers rooting on and showing surprises they thought held winning possibilities.
Heather stopped reading and made a startling announcement. “I shall now deliver you the Moksha Slap.”
“Moksha Slap!?” Taces did not relish the sexual nature of Heather’s comment, but he felt compelled to indulge her. “Come on. Do it.” Taces turned his tan handsome cheek for he loved to play soccer and other outside sports.
Heather slapped her queen down on A5 and attacked Taces’ King. At first, everyone sat quietly. No one understood the move.
“Many, many possibilities exists,” said Taces.
“Plenty of moves,” Cirque boasted.
Volican shook his head, “You’ll be thinking about this a while, Taces.” Volican leaned backwards and started flicking his CyberPage.
“Oh, even the Volican given up on me.”
“No helping, Volican.” Ciscla interrupted before he spoke.
Taces showed some skill in masking the inevitable shock. He lacked one solid move. If he rejected stalemate, his pieces faced decimation. If he fought his way out, he’d suffer checkmate. Taces realize more and more, a Moksha slap might sting. His one sex adventure with a Gian girl while on vacation in Sirap, failed to prepare him for the Moksha. His mind wanted to flee. His body wanted to fight. To save face, he must do neither.
Femornia grabbed her UniViewer from around her neck and snapped a picture of the chess position. I’m uploading… this to Intergalactic Chess Federation. This is… unbelievable. The Moksha Slap in chess.”
She keyed in her temporary brain wave number into Taces’ CyberPage and clicked send.
In no time, the CyberPages were buzzing with announcements of the position.
Daniella gasped. “The Moksha!” I see it.
Cirque’s hand motion waved her expression away like it a gnat. “Right.”
Sylvia saw it, jumped up, and spontaneously crushed her can of eco-Thyme tea. “Yes! You see it Ciscla?”
Volican read aloud from his CyberPages. “The InterGalactic Chess Federation received what might be the first ever Moksha Slap in an early game of chess. Never before has this been witness. This position exactly. Reportedly, Heather Vesuvius and Taces Rillerton played this game of chess minutes ago. We need more confirmation from at least three more people before this can be entered into the InterGalactic Chess games history.”
The chess position showed up on CyberPages screen and the group’s all keyed in to same brain number viewed it. A large green arrow pointed to the queen’s command positions, while computer simulations ran off the chessboard right side.
“I’m not embarrassing myself until I see if myself,” Ciscla said.
“Me neither,” Cirque boasted.
Taces face felt hot and he held his head with both hands. This isn’t exactly how he wanted make a date with Heather.
Daniella clipped a view with her UniViewer. “Send!”
Volican said I’m putting this on all audio.
“This is Lester Sluic, President of the InterGalactic Chess Federation. The position you see on CyberPages has been confirmed as a real position, not a position chess puzzle piece by six InterGalactic Grand Masters. We need five confirmations minimal. We have three. Three more confirmation more than meet the official requirement. Wait! We need two more confirmations. Apparently this person sat on the right-hand side of the winner, too.”
Volican jumped up. “Sorry, Taces. This is chess history!” He casually backhanded his UniViewer behind Taces. He pressed send.
Lester Sluic’s voice crowded the living room, “One more confirmation just arrived. This one came from the position of the loser, Taces’ board side. One more and we’ll have chess history.”
Heather, not gloating stared at the board. This is deep thinking, she thought. Real scientific thinking. No one will believe these moves came from a pillow book.
Lester’s excited voice continued, as several Grandmasters put the position on a table and gathered around thinking of possible moves for Taces Rillerton to make. Their mumbling and finger pointing followed by more flashes of light as news reporters on Gian the home of the InterGalactic Chess Federation reported news to their home planet. “This historic game played in a mixed gendered group of youngsters,” says Daniella. “Heather is a Team Aer on her Team on Quodarian.’ I caution we don’t have confirmation Heather is a Team Aer only confirmation of the game from three reputable different uplink sources or CyberPage accounts.”
Heather pulled out her UniViewer. She started to click a picture. Then stopped. Then gave a stoic shake of her head, “It’s a fact” and clicked the picture.
“We have chess history! Heather the winner of this game, we are assuming Taces will take a stalemate and avoid decimating his pieces and chess board position,” Lester Sluic pointed again and the CyberPages video swirled into a close up from white board side. “You know from what our Grandmasters are saying, this isn’t a boy giving a girl a mercy win, for sex or something. No way the apparent loser Taces might conceive of all the various ways to lose in this chess position. The rooks come into aggressive play from the previously blocked files. Bishops slice laser across the endangered King. Wait! Heather sent in her chess picture. One more confirmation, six, removes all doubt. We have enough as it is. If another sender, either Taces or someone else, no one can doubt the veracity or truthfulness of this chess game.”
Daniella pressured Ciscla, “Can’t you see it?”
“No. I can’t,” Ciscla.”
Sylvia said to Cirque, “Send a picture.”
Cirque said, “You want me to eat a nuclear bomb! I’m not sending this in. Us buds have to stick together.”
Ciscla heard Cirque and felt a rage of anger, but she still couldn’t see the impressive win. “I can’t send anything in if I don’t see it. I can’t asks Heather until Taces resigns!”
Heather shrugged her shoulders. She placed her hands on her thighs and stood up. She offered her hand to Taces.
Taces sat back, “I resign.” He stood up. He offered his sweaty hand to Heather’s dry hand. They shook.
“Show me, Heather!”
Heather showed Ciscla the position and various moves leading to losses for Taces. Ciscla satisfied, squeezed off a board picture and sent it to CyberPages.
“Chess history is confirmed, Ciscla also a member of this CyberPages teen party send in a picture. The Moksha Slap on the chess board. Unbelievable! There are reports coming in now from Galan Chess Federation saying, Quodarian don’t play chess. It was outlawed after the war began. But we can safely disregard this report. Several InterGalactic Grandmasters have come from Quodarian teams over the last hundred years. It is also not true women and girls are not allowed to play chess in Quodarian society as well. One Galan CyberPage viewer said he recreated this position last year. No reports of this chess position have been generated or uploaded to CyberPages and I can attest to that, I’ve already made an archive search. This is Lester Sluic leaving you with a last look at the Moksha Slap in a chess game.” The video ended and a large selection of arrows popped up on the video: SEND TO, REPLY, ARCHIVE.
Heather grabbed a handful of potato chips, dried carrots, and mused what to say to her parents. Her father a lowly water engineer and her stay-at-home mom a member of the Flying Doves. She walked around and listened to the buzz about her on CyberPages then she remembered. She was fourteen. All Quodarian girls under went Poison Dove training at fourteen. She became scared and nervous. She had heard even, Jaine, Head of QSA Security, cried during the training. If the Poison Doves caused Jaine to cry, what terrible rotten fun they might have with an over-sex girl like myself? Of course, Madam Rose #204, died five years ago, but #205 did not change the course content. And all girls even Sylvia, Daniella, Ciscla, Kate and Blossom kept mum about the training as Heather told herself, she would too. I’m as tough as any Quodarian girl, Heather reminded herself. I just delivered the Moksha Slap in chess of all things!
End Chapter 35
This page was last updated: May 28, 2009
Three Abyssarian Faiths developed over the 10,000 history since its origin.
1. Abyssarian Pure: Those who hold you simply close your eyes. There, in night's darkest pitch black is the Abyss, your true origin; Your only Mother and Father. Simply ask the Abyss to help you live, thrive and protect you as you likewise agree to learn from life.
2. Abyssarian Water: Those who hold you must sprinkle a few drops of water above the Final Crown Chakra about two inches above the head. Then you again ask the Abyss to help you live, thrive and protect you as you likewise agree to learn from life.
3. Abyssarian Peach: Those who hold femaleness is the true Abyss and the Last Prophet CE was her husband. The peach symbolizes the Yoni. You eat a slice of peach, whether is fresh or dried peach and again ask the Abyss to help you live, thrive and protect you as you likewise agree to learn from life.
--ABYSSARIANISM TENANTS AND EXPRESSIONS OVER THE MILLINNEUM
By InterGalactic Head Priestess Ulani at the time of Queen Morah of the Quodarians
