Jim Increased Our Altitude
vanquished them- professor of extravehicular activities and space suit design
- begged very hard
- with their burning eyes and saliva-spun lips
- looking forward to getting loaded at lunch
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Jim increased our altitude and resumed our heading for the Inimical Archipelago. I was relieved to be making speed toward our unknown reception in the islands, rather than hanging around to witness what became of the Pentagonistsas as the huge fish vanquished them.
The babies were crying again, no matter what Isolde tried to soothe them. Fleur picked up the radio mic and held it close to their wailing mouths. “My great-uncle Benjamin,” she said loudly over the babes’ noises, “who was a professor of extravehicular activities and space suit design, taught me many ways to jam radio communications. This is in his top five.”
“Did he know any quieter methods?” I asked.
“Please take them!” Isolde begged, begged very hard, but the infants must have learned their disregard for her wishes from their mother because Fleur seemed not to even hear. She gazed with detached fascination at her own offspring, writhing and shrieking in their aunt’s arms, with their burning eyes and saliva-spun lips. She stayed that way for a full ear-splitting minute, so I went to the radio controls and found a way to record a message and replay it on a loop.
“Here,” I said, collecting my twins from Isolde. Their cries faded into a decrescendo of delicate hiccups as I swayed and shusshed.
“I see the islands,” Jim announced. “We should arrive at the docking spire shortly.”
Fleur said, “The top of the spire is said to have the finest restaurant in the islands. I just adore Inimical cuisine.”
“You’re buying, then,” I said, looking forward to getting loaded at lunch.
bonus points for using them in order