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Give the Hippo What He Wants Page 5


  "Use her title when addressing her," said Jalila. "Don't talk with your hands. I'll take care of the rest."

  al-Aziz nodded and stepped forward, turning his attention to the regent. Jalila posted herself alongside him, raising the Voicebox so its pickups could best catch the words of the Vox leader.

  Clasping his hands behind him, al-Aziz spoke to the red-furred Vox. "Regent. I am Major al-Aziz of the starcraft Ibn Battuta."

  Jalila read the translation from the Voicebox's display, taking care to speak loudly and clearly enough for the leaders to hear and understand. Though the Voicebox could have broadcast the audio itself, Jalila felt more comfortable doing the talking in this delicate situation. She was paranoid about making a mistake like on Pyrrhus VII and didn't want to rely too much on anyone or anything but herself.

  al-Aziz nodded at Jalila. "This is my translator, Corporal Jalila Al-Fulani."

  Jalila told Regent Ieria what al-Aziz had said, then smiled and bowed.

  The red-furred Vox stared down at them, blinking her black pearl eyes...then fired off a storm of syllables, clicks, smacks, and gestures that baffled Jalila and the Voicebox alike.

  Fortunately, Nalo came to the rescue. Appearing at Jalila's side, he let loose a sequence of chatter, noises, and hand signs of his own, directed at Ieria. It must have been an explanation of Jalila's conversational limitations, for when Ieria spoke again, it was without gestures or non-pulmonic sounds. The Voicebox resumed normal function, displaying its conversion of the leader's speech.

  "Welcome," Jalila read from the screen to al-Aziz. "What brings you to Vox?"

  al-Aziz considered his next words carefully. "A fleet of vessels is headed toward your world. Many ships, heavily armed."

  Jalila translated, then delivered Ieria's response. "Your ships?"

  "No," said al-Aziz. "We don't know who they are...but we know they are hostile. They disabled our own ship, the Ibn Battuta, and left it for dead."

  Jalila translated. She was startled when the gold-furred Vox minister flung himself onto Ieria's pillar, interjecting his own streak of chatter. Apparently, the minister had caught on to the need for conversational simplicity, for his speech, though quick-fire, was free of extraneous sounds.

  "The other Vox called you a liar," translated Jalila. "He says this is a distraction to hide your own dishonest intentions."

  "Our only intention is to warn you," said al-Aziz. "We can provide you with the coordinates of the invasion fleet, and all the data we have on it." Casting his green eyes upward, he gazed into the dazzling heights of the tower. "Your world is filled with beauty. We will do everything in our power to help you preserve it."

  Referring to the Voicebox, Jalila carefully pronounced the Vox version of what al-Aziz had said. "Vox ilu aya sensay mazeesh. al-Azizlo anzish u'i yayla oonlo sah sueta amisansu."

  For an instant, there was silence as the regent, ministers, and onlookers absorbed what she had said. Then, all at once, the assembled Vox erupted into chaos.

  The outcry was deafening. All around Jalila, Vox were chattering, clicking, smacking, whistling, screaming. They gestured wildly, signing so fast and emphatically that their hands were blurs. Even Ieria and her fellow leaders howled and flailed, diving from pillar to pillar in a frenzy.

  The uproar swelled and cascaded in the vast chamber, echo building upon echo with growing force. There must have been at least a hundred Vox in the tower, and every single one of them cried out at once.

  Except one. Nalo stood quietly nearby, calmly meeting Jalila's terrified gaze.

  For some reason, her eyes fell to the Voicebox in her hands. Somehow, amid the tumult, it must have miraculously tuned in one voice among many, or many voices saying the same thing. Or maybe it was a malfunction.

  One word flashed on the display, again and again.

  Death.

  Death.

  Death.

  *****

  What happens next? Find out in Universal Language, now available for the Kindle!

  *****

  About the Author

  Robert T. Jeschonek is an award-winning writer whose fiction, comics, essays, articles, and podcasts have been published around the world. DC Comics, Simon & Schuster, and DAW have published his work. According to Hugo and Nebula Award winner Mike Resnick, Robert "is a towering talent." Robert was nominated for the British Fantasy Award for his story, "Fear of Rain." His young adult urban fantasy novel, My Favorite Band Does Not Exist, is now available from Clarion Books/Houghton Mifflin Harcourt and received a starred review from Booklist. Visit him online at www.robertjeschonek.com. You can also find him on Facebook and follow him as @TheFictioneer on Twitter. For news on his latest online projects, visit the Pie Press website at www.piepresspublishing.com.

  *****

  E-books by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Fantasy

  6 Fantasy Stories

  Blazing Bodices

  Earthshaker – a novel

  Groupie Everlasting

  Rose Head

  The Genie's Secret

  The Return of Alice

  Horror

  Bloodliner – a novel

  Diary of a Maggot

  Dionysus Dying

  Fear of Rain

  Humor (Adults Only)

  Dicks – a novel

  Literary

  6 Short Stories

  Mystery

  Dancing With Murder (a cozy mystery written as Samantha Shepherd)

  The First Detect-Eve

  Science Fiction

  6 Scifi Stories

  Give The Hippo What He Wants

  My Cannibal Lover

  Off The Face Of The Earth

  One Awake In All The World

  Playing Doctor

  Serial Killer vs. E-Merica

  Teacher of the Century

  The Greatest Serial Killer in the Universe

  The Love Quest of Smidgen the Snack Cake

  Universal Language – a novel

  Superheroes

  7 Comic Book Scripts

  A Matter of Size (mature readers)

  Forced Retirement

  Heroes of Global Warming

  The Masked Family – a novel

  Thrillers

  Day 9 – a novel

  Trek Trilogy

  Trek Fail!

  Trek Off!

  Trek This!

  Young Readers

  Dolphin Knight – a novel

  Lump

  Tommy Puke and the Boy with the Golden Barf

  *****

  Now Available from Robert T. Jeschonek

  A Young Adult Fantasy Novel That Really Rocks!

  Being trapped in a book can be a nightmare—just ask Idea Deity. He’s convinced that he exists only in the pages of a novel written by a malevolent author . . . and that he will die in Chapter 64. Meanwhile, Reacher Mirage, lead singer of the secret rock band Youforia, can’t figure out who’s posting information about him and his band online that only he should know. Someone seems to be pulling the strings of both teens’ lives . . . and they’re not too happy about it. With Youforia about to be exposed in a national magazine and Chapter 64 bearing down like a speeding freight train, time is running out. Will Idea and Reacher be able to join forces and take control of their own lives before it’s too late?

  School of Rock meets Alice in Wonderland in this fast-paced, completely unpredictable novel of alternate realities, time travel, and rock ‘n’ roll. If your favorite band does not exist . . . do you?

  "Overall, My Favorite Band Does Not Exist is a wacky and enjoyable trip...full of intriguing, imaginative concepts that keep a reader hooked." –Thom Dunn, The Daily Genoshan

  "This first novel has all the look of a cult fave: baffling to many, an anthem for a few, and unlike anything else out there." –Ian Chipman, Booklist Starred Review

  "Chaos theory meets rock 'n' roll in adult author Jeschonek's ambitious, reality-bending YA debut." "...this proudly surreal piece of metafiction could develo
p a cult following..."–Publishers Weekly

  "Reading this reminded me of authors like Terry Prachett and Neil Gaiman…" –BiblioJunkies

  Now Available from Clarion Books!

  Order now from your favorite bookseller!

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  GIVE THE HIPPO WHAT HE WANTS

  Copyright © 2011 by Robert T. Jeschonek

  www.thefictioneer.com

  Cover Art Copyright © 2011 by Ben Baldwin

  www.benbaldwin.co.uk

  Published in June 2011 by Tsetse Press by arrangement with the author. All rights reserved by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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