Tevun-Krus #68 - SkyPunk

This Monkey's Gone to Heaven - Part 4 of a Short Story by @JeffreyVonHauger

This Monkey's Gone to Heaven

Part 4 of Significantly Advanced Tech

By Jeffrey Von Hauger

An interstellar planet hopper dropped out of orbit and slid into the rolling atmospheric clouds of Elysian. Lower levels of the planet were an uninhabitable toxic wasteland but the peaks of the eastern continental mountain range were high enough to sustain life.

The transport surfed the puffy purple clouds and delighted its passengers with a panoramic lightning storm over obscured volcanos ringing the equator. Automated announcements and spectacular electric flashes woke even the most medicated of passengers. It was time to disembark.

Pippalotti opened her eyes, stretched, and looked around the cabin. She was belted into a fold-down recliner and next to her was Sister John Murphy snoring away. Murphy was wearing leggings, booties, and an oversized hoodie that said, "Had a Hell of a Trip on Elipso" across the front in big bubble letters.

"You're telling me."

Pippa looked at her own clothing; she was wearing her leather spacer pants, fitted jacket, and the Go-Go boots she'd bought on the party moon.

"The verdict is in; Elipso is dangerous. Wake up, Murph." She nudged her cabin mate with her toe.

"What?"

The pale little Jon of Ark pulled her hood up over her short cropped orange hair and stared out into the clouds. She smiled, slid out of her seat belts, and wrapped her arms around Pippa.

"You're alive. And we've both traveled beyond the heavens."

This was confirmed by the classical looking city built along the pointed green mountains jutting far above the endless cloud line. Pippalotti accessed the cabin's network interface. They had no luggage but were booked at the Olympia hotel.

"I think they stole our stuff."

Sister Murphy pulled at her tourist clothing, frantically rummaged around the cabin, and not finding anything flopped down in disgust.

"It's not the first time I had nothing but the clothes on my back."

"We do have reservations and my credit is solid. Stick with me, Sister." Pippa opened the cabin door and made her way toward the exit ports.

Murphy stood up, did a forward fold, planted both hands firmly on the floor, stretched one leg straight in the air, and cracked her back. She lifted her other leg into a handstand, flipped her legs over and flung her torso up landing on her feet, then followed Pippalotti.

The sublime mountain tops in the hearty upper atmosphere had none of the altitude thin air conditions one would expect. Their majestic green summits were the prize possession of Elysian.

Small local populations were the only survivors of the greenhouse death of their planet, descendants of a band of Sherpas that made their way into the once snow-capped mountains to escape environmental disaster. They were attractive tan skinned people with black hair, flat noses, thin heavy-lidded eyes, and incredibly hospitable dispositions.

"Welcome to the Elysian Peaks. We hope your spirits learn to soar during your time with us," said a charming little customs agent.

She scanned them at the minimal security checkpoint and registered Murphy officially as Mrs. John Murphy from the planet Cherrycoke without question nor proof of identification.

They took the agents advice and walked twenty minutes across the thick grass of the rolling landscape to their hotel. Purple cumulus clouds drifted below them in the upsidedown world and the air smelled sweet and tasted metallic. Sparsely spaced white marble buildings dotted the limited available landmass in aesthetic perfection.