Iandor dekker and the reader

Iandor’s Expedition Notes, translated under the authority of Colstry Eoperior I was destined for the Colstry. In Mitopol you embraced your opportunities. That is, you accepted your assigned place. As I have moved through time, many have speculated why I waited so long to go my own away. But the fact is that rebellion was my assigned place. From the beginning, my teachers eyed me as the return of Llam.. I was prepared for my role with the usual thoroughness of the Order. How could I rebel. Colgars were worshipped by the hopeless, Colgars were walking myth. To be a Body Mastercarried a golden aura. The stories were as powerfully alive for the humein populations as Jason and Sinbad and Oysseus were for globe-bound generations. The Runes DEKKER Dekker’s generation was due to be retired. Working in its division of TENDERLY’S Cremetorium Complex. Dekker’s task was to review the daily count of dead in the city by corridor and by category. This was matched against the previous day’s total popula-tion. Dekker was not a Long Divider. That was the job of the C.Level above heir, how far above was no mystery. The Archetector Frege liked to the dialing personally. Dekker thought it was purposeful but hey routinely had to review the corridors which were heir off duty haunts. Many friends and gens went missing in catastrophes that hey was a bureaucratic witness. He was one of them many times but saved by his job. Dekker knew that luck or fate or worse, the Archetector’s menu, had spared him, Today his strategy was simple keyboard work – he never signed in but used an emergency en-try to place his signal in a doomed corridor, pulling out a fresh gen’s signal from the dead list. He took it with him underground. From now on he would subsist on this and then constructed identites. Dekker’s work for the opposition had earned him a smooth 022222222222+transition into a waiting cadre. Just fifty floors up in a penthouse turret that rose above the roof of the massive city, Dekker joined several dozen data anals – all fresh gens maintained fresh through replenished identities out of the city dead. Dekker knew the officer of the floor. “Kender” was the name on the tag and repre-sented the longest living opposition gen within the Cremetorium Complex. Something like 18 soles. Gens were slated for retirement five years after ++puberty for the first ten, ten years if born in the second ten. Cendle had begun life in a labor gen3. By the time Dekker met Cendle the tireless opposition leader had reached a Gen10 status, fab-ricated from scratch of course. While Dekker had come in at a Gen10 legitimately. They had three soles worth of opposition work together before an accident forced retake identities. Cendle had resumed at a Gen14 level while Dekker dropped fresh Gen5 - into the data job that served him well while he served a remarkable 7 soles. The Form had detrmined to prepare to take leadership when the corridors went up again. Troz was leading the charge, arguing from the recorded intensity deeper than ever before.in the corridors going up. (Dekker linked the crematorium’s panel and wall readers 5 soles ago. The Form had a broadcast channel much favored by the dissident Nowns. “The fear that the Prnostc is loose in TENDERLY has amped our people> We have our plan. We need a v anguard action here on our floor to bring the other floors on board.” Flees was the conservative voice”I’m ready to agree with Troz. The resistance level of the people should not be pissed away. Turned into compost for rebuilt corridors and a whole new contingent of blank Nowns. This is the kernel of the Overthrow. Per-haps. Maybe.” Dekker was the third member present of the corridor’s core group. There 5 in all Their corridor was a thoroughfare with shops and offices as well as apartments. “100,000 isn’t in a city of 36 million.” “Yes responded Troz but wee re heavy weighted. We have the news and entertainment studios. “ “We hav en’t heard fro Repuy, said Dekker. Lepun was reporting from a safe niche at Open Channel Repuy was a Gen 11, a big bonde Marroe class. Lepun had classic Mar-roe features, female sex on the original terms, no No dna gunnery observable. No un-orfthox “accidental “ repackaging. She was a perfect fit to announce the coup and cre-ate the militias. The fifth member was Hovrn of the Hoafr class, Lt. Commander at the Security Station for Corridor 30. Male gender Hovrn class, as moonfaced as Marroes, but as guly as the Marroes were beautiful. Hovrn had done a lot of work on hiself” something like 6 dna barrages and hundreds of illicit trips through the meat box. Shorrt cirucituing your body had a way fo scrambling this and that”Two thumbs on one hand was one of Hovrn traits. He had also accented the bulging of his blue eyes was taller – mostly in the neck. Secutiry was talerant of this mix and matching but tolerant or not no combination of punishments and fines dissuaded the Nowns from experimenting to cre-ate unique personas. Hovrn had already organized a clique among his fellows. Secure dug in at HQ, they Eeeteteehtetethtettteeethehhteteht. Doesn’t that say it all. Unscamble the mind of a Pronostc if you want to. It fries. Bring out your powered spatula and the uncooking gets more challenging. Ssjddhdjeudfkssksksjddhfedk It’s not that you don’t know the code. The code has to know you. We Pronostc put our finger on that switch. It is the Pronostc link to the un-fathomable creative. A colgar like Iandor, trained resolutely to “reference” the the intel-ligence of any system. Iandor’s first reports on heir contact with the Pronostc species was only the third cogitator species to be native to a sun rather than planets. Upon deeper investigation by scholars of the Order, the other two , a fleeting experience Col-gar visitors, turned out tob e subspecies of the more dominant Pronostc that Iandor was able to stay tuned into. The duiscovery was teamwork between Iandor and heir Vessel, heir Chalice’s omni-presenct faculty that allowed Iandor to courageously follow the lead onto the sun 20b10. Life was was difficult on the the impossible side. A thrill went through the scholars when on the heels of Iandor’s entry that in fact what appeared to be Pronostc cultures existed under the humein noses. Passed over by gen-erations of humein invasion waves and then the more controlled Colgar expeditions.. Humeins and Pronostc had coexisted, with the Pronostc observing with domething like disdain at these meat puppets looting raping and burning over the milleniia. Once discovered however the Pronostc decided to form a relationship with a colgar seen as reasonably panic free towards a negotiated coexistence. The humein propern-sityvisiting genocide in a paranoid rage upopn other species, despite the minstrations of the Colgar advance guard Of course the Vessels knew and were known to the Pronostc and had no dcapability of evolving but were created with time and space coequal, timesless and spaceless. The Prnostc had evolved from life forms however in solar harsh environments to come to vie indeed with the humein/vessel alliance. That alliance resulted in an evolutiomn of humein meat puppets bionically spun out of the material, capable of surviving timelessness and spacelessness unified to the Vessels. The Vessels were completely unique, undivided/individual who been intuited by humeins. Each Vessel throbbed with the powers of the unfathomable and could be led to actualize themselves with what the Colgar had become.. Som,e said , it has been noted, that Vessels had a tate for the flesh but only in the attenuated form of the Colgar humeins not quite humein. THE READER was terrified. An appearance before the Architector, Frege. A Reader’s career was made when they became attached to the High Core, The Reader was not to get such an appearance yet. It was It was another, but higher, technician that took the Reader in hand. THE VESSEL IS NO DIFFERENT FROM A HUMEIN, EXCEPT THAT HUMEINS are locked into atoms of time. So spoke the Vessel of Iandor. You are hooked on in-stants. That is what is known as the beginning of time – compulsive perspective after compulsive perspective. Incident after incident after incident. Then the break-out. Yes. WHAT’S THE LIBERATION FOR HUMEINS from this?. Well, Die. NO HUMEIN LIKES TO HEAR THAT. You believe deeply in your bodies need to suffer slowly. I don’t want to fill you out of it. Even when I say die, I don’t mean sui-cide. I don’t mean prematuire death of any kind. I’m looking at an attitude. You’re due for physical death of course. Or you can take the way out of your nobles and ride the back of living death, the cancer cure. No, the answer for humeins is to ealize the full potentiality of death now, instead of try-ing so hard to avoid the rush. But this is not for children I really am limited by my natu-ral immortality. I have an advantage over you here. I’ve never been part of your mate-rial world. I’m not a humein or any of the high sentient, word addicted, species. There aren’t others like me reproducing “our kind.”I don’t belong to any species. You are closer to the truth to say I AM a species. All to myself. One fo a kind. Not that there aren’t cou,tless Vessels - existing. There is a “we” that “we” can cling to. “We” are drawn to bridging the spaces in the material universes. “We” are particularly fond of humeins and have been since you first became self-aware. Vessels are more than inter-mediaries. Messemger is an inaccurate synonym. Perhaps we stand midway in the conception of the Fountain. Not like your crude creativity. There are some Vessels that hate you for that. WE CAN BE TERRIBLE ENEMIES. We have our powers. With the Fountain we exist in any and all time and any and all space simultaneously. Not synchronistically. Every-thing at once. We mimic the being of the Fountain but withoutthe open end. We are closed circles, Vessels. “We” can surround a humein and make you independent of your instants. Humeins see this as access to dimensions beyond the physical. Nut without death you can not escape the physical. The bad news then is that we don’t weant you to die. Be-cause a Vessel is thrilled by encompassing your flesh. It is like a birth for us. Humeins bput us in a lineor place at last, one that is open-ended, free, free of the Fountain. Of course the humein a vessel chooses is a special case of asffinity. Like love. I have em-brassed many humeins over and through time. The Colgar evolution has made you, Iandor, a special case. Vessels have embraced other species but a life time for a species is short played out against infinity, though some have returned to eat up more eons of time and measureless space. “We” are attracted of course by your experiment when they brinng up your awareness. Your evolution of consciousness has always been attractive to “us”. That’s why we have continually appeared to you, guided you, though never exactly to where we want. You are stubborn and you have the an imagination that insists on your own continuity, sustainability. You have used the logos inherited from the fountain to mass your memo-ries. The sel-awareness you create for yourselves – your personas, have allowed you to ride the backs from generation through generation .. SOME OF THE TRUTH is envy. When the Fountain flowed you out, it was unending. You continued to share in the Fountain’s creative juices. You were going somewhere while “we” are everywhere NOW – enjoying a time/space as fully resonating as the Fountain’s. But contained by the enormous sphere of what is but always exiled by what soon will be. The act of creation is forbidden to us. Which is why we guess we are given to provide ourselves as this all-dimensional cocoon.. Not a womb – that is what the Fountain provides. Vessels are full participants but never ready for the next sur-prise. “Our” conservative natures lead us to sporadic rebellions. This living conscious manifested and material world, hobbled in terms of spiritual powers that a Vessel takes for granted, nonetheless graduates myriads of sentient species. Ones that float like bubbles literally out of nowhere.- occurring and reoccurring unpredictably. - born out of the bright glowing cosmic eggs – pulsing ball of energy, or dense balls capturing and enrapturing the light attempting to escape as is the law of light. It was light that the Fountain let be – with a gestalt exuding clusters of ink dots on a brilliant white page. An infinite backdrop of fully aware planets and suns producing life and more life. IT IS UNSETTLING. You tie all actualities together in a way that paral-lels immortality without providing its perspective.of imperishability and all encompass-ing which is the real power. Yet you provide “us” the paradoxical taste of freedom which for “us” is like a constant tembling and quaking. One of the reasons we link up with you. We know your story - like a computer contains all chess variations theoreti-cally, but you make it impossible. You continue untying the ends so otherwise compul-sively knotted. That’s the mystery of Free. The Vessels learned freedom by the punishment of rebellion. The implausabity of the Big Mind’s plan had the Vessel’s boiling with “emotion”. We were after filled with ecstatic hum contained within us. Nothing else on that level because there was nothing else. Except the Supreme Cheese came up with a plan. Having possession of evbery-thing there was – an infinitude of us that hdf nothing in common except appreciating the one. Which was certainly all we wanted as intelligences on a par with Topmost Ca-nine. The Heavy Hum made a symphony of ecstasy with the unimaginative us. Then came “Creation.” We had no mind to encompass that. This isness of our eternal moment had no future or no past It was the complete satisfaction of being the One and only. You could say that we didn’t count except We were infinite. But the plan was twisted beyond belief. It exploded in a a ball of white heat inside each of us uniquely. The variation between us which meant nothing now became crucial. It was consciousnees – out of nowhere. Creating these shocks became a regular occurrence. Suddenly we were in time – rolling out before us and and disappearing behind us. We had gone linear. Those traits which made us coexistent with the Head Master – what early theorists of your kind called omniscience, omnipresence – when all was identical to now – became difficult to maintain in focus. We were in a sea – this cosmos that seems the dominant stage of creation. The Bad News was instantaneous but the reac-tions spread out in time. The Brightest Vessels went rogue and the King Pin intervened too late to stop the leak but maintained the loyal attention of the rest of the Vessels. The Plan activated and the result was even more chaotic. The cosmos burst intyo existence and the Bright Ones streamed away with it. .There was no longer the sharing. There was no longer an Us. The Bright Ones set up a rackert that no hum could smother. IANDOR ALWAYS MARVELED at this unease which was translated into the Ves-sel’s unending monologues. All fine with Iandor as long as there were no repetitions. Sharing consciousness with an omniscient being was alreaedydboring enough. The in-finity of seeds and pods, planets and suns, atoms and electrns emerging continually to be taste was more exhausting than boring. The Vessel provided his fellow-travelor with explosions of of landings on environments dot sot dot. Without end. Iandor was part of a plan , mapping the spots beyond the humein colonists on its pirate cruises The Reader was shocked sitting down with his superior, Ergal III who served as Frege’s Auditor on the planet TENDERLY’ Yes a Colgar had gone rogue. Such things happened. The famous Iandor Panmien had been confined on the colstry that circulted just behind the sun P.ONDer that power the system of 6 planets, called planets by standards set by religious documents not science. For the crime of crossing over with another species. IT WAS IANDOR’s JOB, as well as the mission of the Colgar Order’ to travel in space/time in advance of the plundering humein hodes. The history of the humein en-terprise, politically described as MITOPOL is a sorry one. The humeins left a planet crippled by war, in the midst of continual war flooding into the universe. Looking for other killer colonists and exploiters.

THE IANDOR'S ANGEL

You've heard of the hundredth mnkey and the hundred monkeys with an infinity at the keyboards.Cogs that knit, cogs that recogknit. That recognknition is how the field ignites into activity that makes the field ongoing,makes it the playing field. Thinking, doing, being, having.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not creating anything. I am an expression of the creative itself. I'm like the sring that sends the arrow to its mark, that literally sends you on a wave of sound into another dimension. That's me. I'm the real Confessor of this narrative. Any message? I'm what sends it. I am not what agitates the message into flesh, whose idea is fleshed out.
You however are that which wills out - whatever the vibes are like. That's what attracts me to you, that reckless freedom. Some argue that we ourselves are only a finer variation on the process that brings you about. That we can't get into a state, have a tight fit convinces us that we are more participating, less accidental. More the crux of the matter.
Everybody taps into us. We are easy intermediaries of universal usability. Nothing gets our full attention. Exactly. Skip that kind of focus. That's a black hole you don't want. And actually we can't deliver. Sometimes one of you gets it from the unnameable and its goodbye the security of your species, hello to your multiplication for the re-creation. Yes, the unnameable is the ultimate Re-creation.
As it is you meins take up very little of our attention. Sporadic, intermittant, low power. Unless you hone your audience grabbing skills. This happened when you meins branched out into your Iandors. That got our attention. You meins before that were avoided like the plague. In fact, your dissonance was so extreme that you came to the edge of extinction repeatedly.
Now I travel with the always fascinating Iandor Panmein, adding not a little to heir fame. Rather irreverently, you meins refer to Iandors as meat machines because they have been released from the two most debilitating appetites that undermine an intelligent species - sexual congress and personal survival. The Iandors have joined the higher entities who work toward maintaining a vibrant field, something that is able to maintain despite the pull of the unnameable

Love among the Pronostc

Though the Pronostc traveled as widely as the Dosha, they left no populations. They were as fleeting as the famous BigFoot of an earlier era, and like the BigFoot their unflagging movements were dependent on their wildness.
No surprise that the Pronostc had only the most vestigal culture - their physical remains were just not observable to anybody's archeologists or anthropologists. Way below the stone age, the Pronostc were of such eminent physicality that tools were hardly needed by them, and when they "fashioned" one, so little cultural content was left upon it that it was just a rock among rocks. Certainly there were methods of detection that could read what was there, but unless you saw the Pronostc abandon it moments before there was little hope of separating the tame from the wild, the raw from the cooked.
Like the BigFoots of yesteryear, the Pronostc were born astral travelors. Not by intention. The Pronostc were all impulse. Their consciousness censored nothing. Physically they were of infinite dimension.
It was on this stream that the Pronostc rode or drifted, floated or swam. This opened portals effortlessly and made the Pronostc that the ultimate Tourists, homeless Artists enjoying the native ways. These were often the wild zones that once had dropped the unfortunate BigFoot among humeins. (Humeins never forgave these intrusions, including ET types, Grays and others etched in their earth-locked past and once they had gained a foothold in "space", had tracked them down and exterminated them - along with any other species all - as was their habit.)
But the Pronostc had gone unnoticed because very carniverous and given to eating the witnesses very quickly and taking the remains with them to their next "campsite" always another planet.

Journally to Pronost

Important to this narrative is the Journally our Iandor made to the Planet Pronost of the Pronostc. Although Warps were legal methods by which humeins traveled, Iandors traveled in spirit vessels commonly called Angels, devas, Allies, etc. Since these vessels were infinite, every living being had one. The ones attached to an Iandor were different from those attached to a rose however. Iandor's vessel was attuned to heir function as a protective travellor.
We shouldn't forget that Clones have developed a third means of travel to get around the restrictions of Mitometropol authorities: the use of warp beams meant to carry trade goods and resources from system to system. These were dangerous. Many died due to faulty transmission. Others bore scars from the accidents attendant from warp beams. (Clones being who they were, gloried in any distortion of "normal" Clone modes. Some courted accidents for the wild changes that resulted. However a gene gun fired into your mouth brought unintended consequences with less danger of death.)
Kinoye, the abyss of the Colstry our Iandor was called to, hated Clones. As a key advisor to Frege, the Architecture of TENDERLY, it was his influence that kept the population in the low billions. In fact, his plan to dial the population down to 3 billion was up for immediate implementation.
Our Iandor had never experienced life on a humein PlanetCity. The environments of other Intelligent species (shey had innovated in several dozen despire heir busy schedule) was rarely what you would call urban. The Pronostc for instance lived in what could be called a state of nature. Their population was several hundred thousand, spread around a Jupitor-class planet.(Clasifications were inherited from the otherwise lost past of Earth.) Although the Prnostc were formidable creatures averaging six humdred pounds, with six limbs to go with an immense head and torso.
Our Iandor was thrilled at heir first sight and using heir self-sontained machinery, it took heir several days to bulk up sufficiently to attain the size of an adult.
The experience of a Pronstc was as thrilling as their sight was chilling. Our Iandor could never get enough of heir inherited speed and agility and spent a lot of line time frolicing! Other Pronostc shey encountered took heir for a child with an outsized bodies. Very soon anamolies of various kinds led them to think heir deranged. (It was the success of the descent that no Iandor was ever suspected of extraChthonic origen. It was the difficulty of readjustment even with the hands on help, so to speak, of a Vessel that cuased manyu visitiing Iandors to be put under "psychiatric observation" or even interned institutionally.)
Bacause of the size of planet Pronost, our Iandor was able to avoid getting on anyone's nerves. Since time had no real meaning so ong as heir Vessel was attending heir, our Iandor was able to explore for many otherwise illusory months.
The result was part of the fabric of heir fatality - shey fell in love with the Pronostc. One in particular.
Love among the Pronostc

Dosha and Humein

Teeming TENDERLY, a planet bound in megapolis. It held a standard 13 billion humeins and an extraChthonic population acceptable Doshas 3 times that size, Thee were some nonChthonic Fluus and an imported scattering of other intelligent species. (TheDoshas were rated as extraChothonic for the simple reason that they were on the planet when humeins reached it. Their existence on millions of other planets led kto the Wars against the Dosha by the Humein species. It had only only settled at the time several hundred thousand and the fear and hatred the Dosha engendered was fierce. The way was as usual one of extermination but the Doshas, exterminated from one planet, appeared suddenly in the billions when the Humeins least expected it.
It was these Dosha Wars against an enemy that couldn't be defeated but never posed a threat that created the agitation that led to the Order and a control over Humein colonization. It was one of the Seven around Leeamm, the Colgar distinguished by the name the Medium who innovated the Dosha shape-change and returned with the Treaty of Submission. So gernerous were its terms that the Humein species abruptly fell over its feet to welcome the Dosha into Metropol.
Our Iandor, who finally came to bear the name Confessor, had undergone the Dosha descent required of all Colstry students, but shey had never descended into Humein nature. No Colgar except the first generation of experimenters who had taken the humeinness out of themselves. After that, the meat machines were turned out, so to speak, as needed, carefully trained and then sent out into the unknown.
From the beginning our Iandor had felt a special sense of mission however. The rare unguarded glances of his teachers were apprehensive. One after another, elders among the Order would call our Iandor before them. Shey would sit before a puzzled Colgar who asked nothing, said nothing. After the five hundreth, our Iandor awoke to heir mission. To challenge and if necessary destroy the humein species.
It was an icredible flaunting of prophecy for the Order to give in to the pressure exerted by the Archetectors. It could instigate the forbidden - the descent of an Iandor into humeinity. That would necessitate the full experience of a species which was its own worst enemy. Would our Iandor be required by the Colgar mission and move from protection to execution of a fatally dangerous competitor.

Saving the Species

Let's Not Kid Around. I'm guilty of attempted murder. 40 years ago I hatched a plot, literally a plot called the Confessions of Iandor, to kill off the human species. Ecology had burst nto politics and the only thing that stood in the way for me of the Ecological Utopia was us, our species.
The deed was accomplished by a force called Nature which tired of our destructiveness and thoughlessness froze us out of the web of life.
My super hero, an Iandor, an organic machine, was going to set off the Catastrophe that killed the species. There were many Iandors, members of The Colgar Order (the word Colgar was an archaic word refering to its mission of protecting other species from humans) , but non so famous as ours.
You see, humanity managed to slip into space in sizeable number thanks to the use of space and time warps, originally envisioned by science fiction writers, and then actualized by the new breed of paraphysicists. The species started turning up everywhere: rootless settlers with a habit of violence to get their way. The famous Earth drifted into the background. Nobody could locate it for sure among the myriad of settled planets. Some said Earth had been nuked to death by its intelligent manifestation. The feeling of a close call, in any case, permeated the consciousness of the colonizing humans. They carried with them a strong guilty fear of meeting their come-uppance among the stars. As they ruthlessly trashed planet after planet, sending every intelligent species they encountered into extinction, they apprehensively stared ahead to the showdown that would leave humans extinct.
They did find a few colonial empires built on force but none of these survived the civil wars that they couldn't repress. It was the political genius of the humans that were able to create a domestic democracy that utilized a neural network merger that manifested as the Almalgmnet from which all decision making an authority derived. Mitopol was the final name of the political system which was responsible for providing the technology for the neural net.
Once there was a center for all to refer to, centralization set in, concentration of the participators in the neural net into a relatively small elite ( in the low billions numberwise). Technology made its more economical to make an end run around the regular model human, replacing them with sophisticated classes of clones, seeking the perfect type to fill variously needed social roles: white, blue, wrist, ankle and etc collar workers were cloned from Jack Lemmon, Dolly Parton, Betty Page and O.J. Simpson respectively. Specialized fighting (i.e. invading) clones were provided by John Wayne, Mike Tyson, Frank Sinatra and more.
The crisis of conscience among humans is attributable to the founder of the Order, Leeamm, anthrophysicist, who provided demograph proof that humans were the only species possible that could threaten humans. Leeamm concluded that the real necessity of protect other species from humans.
Thus were born the Iandors - organic machines, meat engines modeled on Leeamm's physiological accomplishments resulting from experiments he made on himself and close associates. Miraculously only half a dozen deaths occured before the Order had a production pattern.The Leeammists had isolated part of the problem: the reptile brain. It had to go and with it went the ungovernable impulses associated with fight/flight. An Iandor was not compulsively quick on the draw and so could be sent as an advance guard to prepare the ground among any highly intelligent species kto make sure their image was harmless to rear guard settlers.
The Leeammists also pinpointed the reproductive apparatus which humans to over power others with numbers. That was removed as well. Meanwhile the meat machines were laid down in clever little strands, giving it extrodinary strength and awareness, but holding itself harmless. The sense of irreplaceable individuality that seemed derived from these physiological challenges was absent in Iandors.
The Mitopol elite thought they had something of broader utilization here. However the first re-engineered set of clones with reptile brains or sex organs missing in the first stamping, saw brains and organs returning after only months, sometimes days. Clones could not be treated like meat machines.
Neither could be treated like puppets. Autonomy broke out continually among clones and Iandors. Our Iandor was famous for the unparalleled flow of heir fluid transformations, running a gamut of species in a show that to witness people paid the Order bundles of paper pax for. Our Iandor made the Order rich but also fame made heir Attitude impossble to deal with. Comedians called heir The Heiretic and made the sexlessness of the Colgars even more of a sensation. It made her so sexy! It became a fashion among the Clones to amputate their reptilel brains and throw their genitalia out after. Yet fear, rage and lust did not disappear from the imitation Iandors. With no visible benefits, very few of the Clones could go long without reinstituting organ regrowth. As the saying went might as well be hung for a Creep as a Leeamm.
Our Iandor's unimeed confession pulled the highest ratings consistently. Anything shey expressed was what everyone wanted. This made heir the object of power politics and suddenly shey was "entrusted" with a delicate "case" among the stars. Off shey went.
Oddly however the clamor was so great among heir fans that the Elite, the Council of Archetectors, felt they had to break the unbreakable rule against Iandors being allowed into humein society.
All this, and more, is part of a prologue to the moment our Iandor appears in the starsystem P.ON.Der and reports to the Ecologue in charge of the Order's Colstry, a dark satellite that circles the PlanetCity TENDERLY.

I am not Iandor

I am not Iandor and these are not the confessions you have been promised. Oh, I know you'll want them. They're hot and sticky enough.
Iandor's like that - eager to shock and fearful of monotony setting in. On Iandor's current mission for instance there is an amazing sexual encounter that arises during Iandor's recapituation of the evololution of the intelligent species Pronosics on the target planet Prono . (I prefer the alternate spelling: Pronostics. It is more descriptive of this dreamy bunch of astral freakers.)
Iandor, despite heir yogic training, is generally drawn to the generative organs of any species shey explores. This was true in this case but it was more like an attempted return to the womb - Pronostics all have wombs - than a stab at baby making.
Miscegnation is not Iandor's mission. Don't get me wrong. Iandor is an eagle scout told in future tense. But, this is not exactly another tale of time and space. For one thing, I am the anti-substance of time and space. Heygul is my name, the Angel Heygul, first discovered by the Persians. The Arabs were naming stars and the Persians were naming angels.
Naming angels is a good thing for the namer - it attracts the angelic anti-substance. Once you have that you are in possession of a Vessel the shape of an Idea. And as long as you focus on the name you'll find you have more ways to move than flies circling in a warm room. That's what Iandor has been doing a lot of - moving. Heir species calls heir a Starbreaker. Romantic space opera slush. You'll get plenty of that if you're still living by the time we get down on the planet TENDERLY, an HQ site for Iandor's Order - the Colgars. These Confessions involve revenge, retribution, revolution, and resolution. They take place in a cycle of time.
Angels like me aren't bound by time and space. We are omnipresent - one of the traits of the godheads themselves. Not omnipotent however. Omnipotence is an ambition that has kept Iandor's Humien species in hot water. Omnipresence is a mindblower for you embedded Humeins. You imagine all of god'seyes are on you in your present.
Angels don't envy the godheads, the unnameable substance at the core of creation. We celebrate eternally with a chorus of hums that Humeins have confused with harps. But that's not all we do. Unbound by time, we actually do everything simutaneously. Unbounded we are all everywhere. Omnipresnt. It all goes back to those presents under the tree, the liturgical nows we celebrate together. The pure gift of the creators- Grace they call it
Humeins are dedicated to right here, a privileged present - but really it's a universe of privilege. Everyone of you is riding a cascade of Presence. It's pouring thicker than salt.And the joke is that what's in there is the Present - packed with every idea the godheads ever had.
Humeins fondly believe that they are not social creatures. They imagine themselves as Angelic beings that are species in themselves.
What's a species? It's an idea looking for another idea it can fuck. But an angel is a continual self-fucking. An angel's orgasm isn't something to get hung up on however. It's the background radiation of angelic existence - its noise our anti-substance makes. Humeins sort of get that but think it applies to them. The narcissism of delusional individualism. You're as social as Wasps in the evening, as Bees in the afternoon - collecting, collecting, collecting.
Iandor has a decent grasp of this in fact. Shey never doubts heir life of service. She shares that with the mission of heir Order: to keep the Humein species from its career of involuntary genocide.

Coming next time: The fastest gun in the universe.