A History Lesson

Within the entrance chamber of the Andromeda Machine the Merovingian Lizard Kings’ diminutive ambassador was in full flow and warming to his subject.

            “Back then the grandparents of these people here were investigating a magnetic anomaly on the plateau above and mapped out a shape beneath the ice.   Huge it was, and not of a natural form.   Tunnelling down they were, until they reached the outer hull of the structure within which you stand.   Their proximity triggered a response from the Andromeda Geräte.   It sent a distress message.

“Received the message was, by the Lizard Lords.   Tell you I cannot, of what the Merovingian Lizard Kings already knew regarding the Mother Ship.   But tell you I can, that there is little that the Lizard Kings do not know.   One with The Chaos they are, and The Chaos is aware.

“Instantly despatched was I, with my companions, to contain the situation.     Neuschwabenland was isolated and the expedition to disappear was made.   A busy time in Europe this was and a few missing scientist soon forgotten were.   The descendants of those with the foresight to embrace our mission are still here.”

            “And those without the foresight?” enquired Easter Smurthwait.

            “The Merovingian Lizard Kings see only the bigger picture.   Those who did not embrace did not continue.   They were of no consequence.
            “You earthlings think you are so important.   You strive, and it is noble to strive, right that you strive.   But you influence nothing.   The weirdy web is spun.   It warps and quivers, pulled and shaken by dark tides – glistening dewdrop universes dancing on its threads.   And you, tiny animated specks on one tiny rock, circling one tiny star, on the outer rim of one tiny constellation, in a cosmos so vast that it is beyond your comprehension think that you can hang on, get noticed?   All is The Chaos, everywhere is The Chaos.   It carries you along or tosses you aside without reason.   It is tumult, and the Lizard Kings embody its deepest nature.”

            “You are all servants of evil,” spluttered Albert.

            “Servants of the Lizard Lords we are, and the Lizard Lords are The Chaos.   The Chaos is not evil or good, it is what it is.

            “Homo Credulous – programmed to see patterns in the turmoil.   Everywhere you little men find order and purpose, discover rules and laws and think this is how the universe works, but deluded you are.  You marvel at fractals that derived can be from a tiny equation yet are infinitely complex, you puzzle over a π without end.   You invent Æther to carry your light and radio waves, postulate Dark Fluff in the vacuum of space to make a random universe conform to your sums.”
            Harold was not convinced that he did any of these things; he had not really grasped algebra at school.   He could find a shoal of coleyfish in the vast Arctic ocean and navigate his aging tin tub through mountainous seas that should swallow the 500 ton sidewinder whole, but maths…

            “Wanting it all to make sense you are.   But it does not.   Not your kind of sense, anyway.”   

            One of the saffron men coughed and leaning in to the sage’s ear he spoke quietly to him.   The old man turned to von Luckner.   “You must return to the complex, Kapitänleutnant.   Be gone quickly.   You are about to be attacked.   We will follow directly.”