Astarte, The Adventure, in fragments

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Sharing significant fragments from the core novel 'Astarte, The Adventure' here and there [see links below] you can read this amazing story in its entirety.

CHAPTER 0. THE FUNKY FOX ON FIRE

Astarte is thirty-four meters high. In dating terms: 1640C/1380/1920 centimeters, or 645C/543/756 inches. A redhead with deep blue eyes, that can turn green, grey or any hue of the rainbow. Athletic and naked, she has no notion of clothes in her home world.

À propos, this huge woman has been manufactured inside a star, a pulsar with a two milliseconds rotation rate. That is why she counts time in seconds, milliseconds or even nanoseconds, this being the finest resolution at which she perceives reality.

But!, because people understand dimensions in football fields, data in Libraries of Congress and time in years, Earth-years to be more specific, the casual chatter of Astarte could be a hard sell, a deal breaker.

The woman, or the monster-woman, is what humankind calls an alien. No!, not an ugly scary one, but a nice sexy one!

From this simple perspective, humans will know that aliens do not have twenty-four-hour long days; no months, because there’s no Moon in Alienland; no 365 days long years, because other planets, or stars, rotate at different speeds, and rates, around different stars, or whatever.

And because no one could measure her age in football fields, and because mathematical exponents are meaningless next to seconds, let’s assume that she is about twelve billion years old, as in Earth-years. Billions! Sounds cool, eh?

Did I mention that she never ages?

Besides being a literary deal breaker, Astarte is also a paradigm breaker. Impatient, panicky, frivolous, a perfect nincompoop.

This being, or should I call her a character?, has been many things to many of her kind and is about to become one thing to many people.

Before you begin reading through, here’s a short preamble, like a users’ guide to Astarte.

Any world is based, and built, on a set of paradigms, or else it won’t be consistent with itself. It won’t last.

The way we measure time and seasons on Earth, the way we drive on the right side of the road (unlike the Brits, Japs, Aussies, Indians and some Africans – quite a few), the way we are rushing to make a religion out of precious stuff, from golden calves to silvery iPhones, we live, and die, under our own planetary paradigms.

Astarte couldn’t care less.

So, if you are allergic to galactic thrillers, please do yourself a favor and fast-jump to
Chapter 5. The French – it’s earthly, or undergroundly (not sure if this is a word in English – another paradigm breaker).

Ancient people have heard of Astarte, various rumors mentioned even visions of her, and they wrote her names (there are more than one) into a particular genre of paradigm: “the goddess of sex and war.”

Imagine another deed of the ancients. For instance when Samson put some fire on the tails of foxes before releasing them into enemy crop fields.

What paradigm would fit a funky fox with her tail on fire, running like there’s no yesterday and no tomorrow?

Meet "Astarte, The Adventure."

Oh, did I mention that she looks very similar to Lady Liberty from Liberty Island, New York City?

Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi had a vision too.

Read the entire novel here: https://cougarbunny.dorisdawn.com/portfolio/astarte-the-adventure/


[...]

Chapter 05. The French [excerpts]

“Alerte! A vos postes! Activité sismique anormale.”

It’s not English, it’s not Aramaic. Ah, it’s French, not far from English, compared to Aramaic… Why is this little stinker shouting this out loud? Repeatedly.

Ten seconds after our 504 hours long fuck spree has been completed, Kronos sent me down to Earth. Yes, the planet with a Moon that resulted after Theia hit Terra, or Terra Theia, whichever comes first. The planet next to Venus. Oh, Venus… Green Venus… where art thou?…

Red flashlights bayoneting the darkness. Guess that they are searching for me. I should be the cause of their reportedly abnormal seismic activity. Very well then, they wish to see me and I have nothing to hide, when did I? Lights on!

“Protégez vos yeux! Protégez vos yeux!”

Well, well, that little bastard won’t stop shouting. Not wasting my time, I scrutinize myself first. All parts of me are here, in one piece, nice. Time to inspect the neighborhood. Above, a hollow dome of granite with a theoretical radius of 911 kilometers. Majestic, I can tell! Under my feet, solid iron, melted rock, a long list of minerals and metals, and carbon, so much carbon. Huge spots on the ground make me think that this mixture dripped from the ceiling at high temperatures. It filled the spherical cavity, most of it. That explains why I am so close to the cupola. What a blast! Industriously, I map everything in my head. See there, and there, and even there, oh, too many… let’s count them… Yes, twenty-eight cave openings. To be dealt with later on.

“Garde-à-vous!”

What the fuck is he yelling up there? Time to focus on the little screamer now. Ah, there he is. Camouflage attire, don’t you say. Oh, there are more of them. Let me count. Eighty-one of them, little stinkers in pink camouflage. Is that pink? Nah. More like beige. Think the light I’m generating induces this nuance of pink. Makes sense. I love pink!

Let me calibrate it over to the full spectrum. Oh no. HALT myself. Must think twice before acting. What goes as full spectrum for my body can radiate the hell out of these little men up there. Kronos said that I need to fraternize with humans of the Earth. To socialize. Let’s get started with light calibration in their visible spectrum. Neutral white, they would say. Hum… they are eighty-two now. Seems like a new one came in through a door in the wall. Are they all living like ants on this planet?

“Madame. Bienvenue sur la Terre! I am Colonel Alain Johansson, 3rd Regiment of the Chasseurs d’Afrique. At your service.”

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Written by dorisdawn
Hochgeladen June 25, 2021
Notes Astarte is thirty-four meters high. In dating terms: 1640C/1380/1920 centimeters, or 645C/543/756 inches. A redhead with deep blue eyes that can turn green, grey or any hue of the rainbow. Athletic and naked, she has no notion of clothes in her home world.
À propos, this huge woman has been manufactured inside a star, a pulsar with a two milliseconds rotation rate. That is why she counts time in seconds, milliseconds or even nanoseconds, this the finest resolution at which she perceives reality.
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