You may not have noticed, but there have been other characters present within the story of Flash Meridian’s adventures. They have been here all along, from before the beginning. Like that ghost of a whisper Flash had sensed before meeting Bucket, someone has been lurking in the shadows of every word.
Timo woke one morning with this very thought in his head. Like Flash Meridian, he lay in his comfortable bed. He faded between dreams and a room whose curtains blocked the light of a new day. The drapes were haloed by soft sunlight that seeped in around the edges. It was a friendly light that welcomed him. It was a patient light that allowed him to slip back into dreams, yet offered the possibility of parting the fabric and flooding the room with the full light of day.
Creatures were also present with him, nestled into the bedding, and occasionally making their presence known by shifting positions, or putting their faces so close to Timo’s that he could feel their warm breath on his cheek and nose, or the tickle of their whiskers on his skin.
One of these creatures was white, with black spots that seemed to move independently across his body when he walked, and the other being more eager to communicate, more anxious to play.
Another participant lurked deeper still, a shadow of the shadow beneath the words. While nearly invisible, they were the most important person in this story. Nearly invisible, yet I see you, dear reader, on the other side of the page.

You join with the fishlike aliens, flitting about in the air around me, sometimes sending messages from your table to mine, and I am grateful.

Hours passed. The liveliness of the conversation never faded. Pauses were not awkward, because both participants would linger together in a lovely memory, or a new perspective on some bygone event.
Like I said, hours passed. Eventually, the dream started to wind down. It wasn’t abrupt. Not jarring. Lem began to appear transparent. Flash could still see her, but he could also see things through her, the way he’d seen the far side of the room through the hologram.
It was sad to part ways again, but not devastating. As long as he lived, he could visit her by sipping from the bottle. When the bottle emptied, it would no longer be necessary. They would be together in some other place, or some other dimension.
Flash awoke, or came to in his suite in the castle. He placed the stopper in the bottle, and set the goblet next to it.

He heard voices.

Flash’s bare feet treaded the soft, cool carpet as he crossed to the balcony. A crowd was gathering on the plain.
Celebrations were common on Olo, not in a tired or boring way. They were joyful, affirming and loving times, but like the jewels, they were not precious. What I mean by that, is that they were not formal or unnatural. No one had to be there. No one had to act a certain way. No one had to be quieter or louder.
Flash felt well rested, and a little hungry, so he slipped his feet into a pair of silver slippers, tied the belt of his robe, and headed out his door. His mind replayed his visit with Lem as he descended the grand, curving staircase. Before he knew it, he found himself in the courtyard. The commotion snapped Flash right out of his reverie.
At the far end of the courtyard, a colorful disc floated above the crowd. It was an image of Olo, but a circular shape in the middle looked a bit like a nose. This thought made a mark below it look rather like a mouth. Or maybe it was the mouth that made the ring look like a nose.
It didn’t give you too long to think, because the picture came to life. The disc expanded to be a sphere. There was a crashing sound as a white whale pushed through the mouth, leaving a jagged gap. Not jagged like saw teeth, but an asymmetrical right angle. As the whale burst through the sphere, two figures jumped from the sphere onto the back of the whale, revealing eyes to complete the face.
As a hologram, the king and queen floated above the cheering crowd, waving and smiling as they passed.
A ring of chasing lights encircled the planet. When those stopped, lights illuminated the mouth, which looked like the letter L. The mouth went dark again, and the nose danced, surrounded by the moving lights. This pattern repeated, and the crowd chanted “O! L! O! along with it.
One compelling thing about the holograms, is that they never told a story the same way twice. Everyone has a different perspective. That doesn’t make anyone wrong or right. By not trying to convince anyone, the holograms allowed everyone to be open minded and tolerant. Authenticity was prized over every other personality trait.
Flash made his way toward the gateway where he would get something to eat.

Flash Meridian rarely made plans. If he were invited somewhere, or summoned, that was different. He went.
On days like this one, he had nothing scheduled. He had his routines, like getting out of bed and eating breakfast. Even those were flexible.
He stepped back inside his apartment. It was cooler in here, but not dark. A kaleidoscope of intense color swept across the floor, and up onto any surface it could reach. This carpet of light was not the same as the holograms that formed on and above the bed.
It looked like a forest of tall trees growing up from the mattress, and Flash remembered the first time he had seen that here in his suite. Lem had been on the bed, shaded, and seemingly unaware of the underbrush that surrounded her, the stream that gurgled nearby, and the fish that swam amongst the highest branches.
I miss you, Lem, Flash said, surprised by his own voice.
He longed for the time when she had been present physically. He still felt her presence, and he was happy knowing that she was at peace.
A fish zig zagged down the tree, weaving its way through the boughs. It stopped in an open space between the top of one branch and the bottom of another. It stood out, silhouetted as it was, against the far side of the room behind it. It faced the unopened bottle given to him at the bottom of the ocean. Of course. He would spend the day with Lem. Or the morning. Or as long as he could.
He picked up a diamond goblet from a shelf, and opened the wine.
No lightning bolt shot from the neck, the way she entered the room on their first meeting. No blinding blaze or smoke. No charred smell. Still, he felt her presence already. The sweet aroma of the wine was like her.
He poured a small amount into his glass, and swirled it. The liquid seemed to come alive. He was hesitant, not wanting to waste a drop. Not wanting to run out.
He took a sip, and heard her voice.
Don’t worry. The bottle will not empty as long as you are alive.
He glanced to his left and saw her once again in the glade.
Oh Lem.

I’m here.

There was no talk of sadness. No regret. They were together, so they enjoyed the time. I won’t tell you all the things they talked about, but she did confirm that she visited him through the kindness of the whale calf.
She also described her view from inside the hologram. Can you guess what she saw?
That wasn’t a trick question. She saw tree trunks rising up. She saw the underside of branches, a sparkling stream, and the other side of the room through it.
She told Flash that that is what life is like. The details of the present moment surround us, and tower above us. She went on to say that when the hologram of life is turned off… when the drapes are closed, you will find a bigger, more real world, of which that hologram was only a tiny detail. Like when a play ends, and the curtain closes. Everyone goes out of the theater and back to their real life.
As you already know, the wine let Flash enter into Lem’s dreams. On this occasion, she took him to Ino. Flash had experienced her planet as a barren, lifeless place, shrouded in grief.
It was unrecognizable to him in Lem’s memory. Warm yellow light shone down on a colorful patchwork landscape. Beneath the bright flowers, whose blossoms were enormous, was a vibrant green. The ground cover was thick and cool. They walked barefooted, and the refreshing carpet beneath them balanced the heat of the dazzling air.
She led him down a row of houses, each in a happy hue. They stopped in front of a red door.
Come on in, Lem said as the door swung open.
The room was well lit and comfortable. It was filled with interesting objects. It’s impossible to say who enjoyed the conversation more… Flash, who asked about things, or Lem who told him about them.
When their visit was over, Flash understood Lem’s caution and reticence during their time together, especially aboard the mothership. He knew he would see her again, in another visit like this, or after the curtain call.

Flash still stood on his balcony, facing the exaggerated sawtooth mountains, long after the whales had swum out of view. He had honored each of them as they passed by him on their journey. He couldn’t help thinking about his own journey that brought him here. By recognizing and loving his inner child, he honored himself. Various versions or incarnations of himself floated by.

He didn’t judge them.

The artist child, the boisterous adolescent, the hopeful teen and the lost young adult bubbled up from within him, and rose, smiling at him on the balcony. They were free of the fears and doubts, the regrets they had felt when they were responsible for life. They had all tried so hard. Flash could see that now. Despite their trepidation, they had gotten him here. He waved to them sending bubbles of love and gratitude up after them. He thought again of the whale parade, and was determined to do what he could for the one that followed. The next chapter of himself.
Living, as he was, in the Ololian castle, Flash didn’t normally wear his silver space suit. He didn’t need it. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable. Well, Flash had gotten used to it, at any rate. It had protected him as he careened through space. He could control the temperature and humidity in it. If he had to, he could be comfortable in it all day, every day.
When he met Bertha on Earth after the time warp, he changed into one of her father’s suits. On the blue planet, he had stripped out of it and dove into the sea. Both times, he had been refreshed.
Here on Olo, he wore robes and loose clothing made of soft, flowing fabrics, not unlike those of the king and queen. Within the castle, he walked barefoot, or wore comfortable slippers. Within his own suite, his feet were bare, making contact with, and sinking into the thick carpet. When he went back up to the mothership, of course, he wore his space suit, as he did in his dreams.
Clothes were functional for Flash. His spacesuit was almost like a spaceship, the way it protected him on his journey between planets. The robe he wore on the balcony of his castle suite was light, and allowed the air to flow through it. It was comfortable. It felt as though he were wearing nothing at all, apart from the gentle flutter against his neck, or the way it flapped against his legs in the wind. His clothes were beautiful. This was not their function or purpose, but merely a happy fact.
Remember how the queen explained to Flash that everything changes on Olo? Well, in a way, nothing ever changes, on Olo or anywhere. If you go back and visit a place you used to live, you’ll see how trees have grown, or been cut down. How new houses have been built, roads have been widened. Familiar places may seem unrecognizable. Yesterday didn’t change. Today is the way it is. It didn’t change. Yesterday and today are not the same thing. That was that. This is this. You just stepped from one brushstroke to the next in the painting of your life.
Flash stood on the balcony overlooking the crimson plateau, his silver robe flapping in the morning breeze, and shimmering in the dazzling light. The child inside him also looked out through his eyes. Flash didn’t obliterate his inner child by existing, just as he didn’t destroy Olo with his presence. The painting was complete, even though his view was blocked by the impasto of time. Uncertainty was an illusion, fear a hallucination. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to measure up to, nothing to regret. One day, he would step back and take in the whole painting. He would rise above the final brushstroke and behold the beauty of the masterpiece.
All he knew for now was that he was standing on a castle balcony, his belly full of delicious food. The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, and an updraft felt cool against his bare feet and legs.
He closed his eyes and basked in the moment. He remembered the whale train and breakfast. Something about a spaceship, and other things, people and places from the past. They lingered, but he didn’t grasp, didn’t hold onto them. They flapped, like his robe, in the wind, and went gliding, sailing out over the landscape below him. He celebrated some, forgave others. He breathed deeply and the stirring air became more turbulent. More memories broke free in the gale. Still, Flash’s eyes were closed. In his mind, he saw pieces detach and be swept away. Scenery and costumes from long forgotten scripts were cleared, and he just let them go. They didn’t define him. He had no use for them anymore. He was grateful for the role they played, but they were no longer relevant.
They dissolved in the air and fell as snowflakes onto the crimson plain. Some melted on the rubies, others collected on the cobalt plateau. Some were caught on the tongues of Ololians, who danced in the flurry. Everyone took what they needed and left whatever was unnecessary. Especially Flash, who was relieved to see them go, revived by the breeze, and renewed in his spirit.
The air fell still, and he opened his eyes. The ground glistened.

Flash loved to have adventures. He always had. But his favorite thing to do was savor whatever moment he found himself in. Just to be in the place where he was, and appreciate it without the need of distractions. Excursions. Yes, he enjoyed his trip to the bottom of the ocean. Careening through space. Childhood on the farm. But in between those adventures, he found his real life. Sometimes he would awaken in the middle of the night, wondering where he was. He had to think about which room comprised his current reality.
Aah, the castle suite on Olo. That made him smile. He’d reach out for Lem, and then remind himself that she was no longer here. From time to time he’d forget what part of the painting he was in. That wasn’t the case as he finished his breakfast on the balcony overlooking the crimson plain. All of his senses told him exactly where he was, and there was no place he would rather be. Maybe this was a dream. If so, he just wanted to sleep. To stay right here forever. Or as long as possible, at least.
Something was happening down on the plain, and it caught his eye. The whales hovered above the gem encrusted ground. This was not unusual., but the way they positioned themselves was! They lined up, nose to tail in a circle following one another. Around and around the museum they circled. As other whales joined the procession, the carousel enlarged in a colorful display. When all the whales present had joined the queue, one split off, spiraling upward. They all followed in a conga line or parade. Flash had seen similar behavior from the mothership when he saw the whales blow the net of crystals, and again when they swam up in a hologram near the entrance of the cave.
They rose in an ever widening spiral, and after quite a while, they passed by Flash’s own balcony. It seemed to him that they also were celebrating life on Olo, and this part of the promenade was just for him.
They slid past him in the quiet air, so close that he could not take in their entire form, just radiant landscapes from the curving rostrum and ventral pleats, to the eye, then a wall of color which would taper to a horizontal tail. The color would change and the shape would repeat. Flash just stood still, his eyes wide, taking in the spectacle until the last whale passed. He saw the rainbow colored train continue to rise, and fly off over the forest and foothills before vanishing behind the glassy spires in the distance.
Mad stood by the transparent wall of her home in the mountains, where she and Luuu also watched the procession.

All across Olo, people looked up to see the whales.

The fishes that swam amongst the branches of trees swam up and joined the whales for a time before returning to their home trees, and it looked from the ground like the trees were reaching up to hug the whales as they floated by.

The memory of that empty city still lingered. At first, Flash told himself it was only a dream. Its persistence told him that this was a big dream. One he should pay attention to. That warped reflection that he had made eye contact with in the bakery played back like a repeating film reel. It occurred to him that the shadow he cast on the pavement was like the child he carried in his heart. It was part of him, always following along, even though it was nearly forgotten. It was dark. Featureless. Just a shape that conformed to whatever surface it happened to fall onto. So many details of his own life clung to him in this way. Unexplored inclinations that he or others had dissuaded, and perhaps labeled inappropriate. Stop crying. Don’t say that. Settle down. Be on your best behavior. Just get over it.
He had closed the door on those reactions or impulses, settling on a narrow, more acceptable approach to life. Those aspects of himself didn’t go away. They clung to him like his shadow. When life’s light was behind him, he saw the shadow as foreboding and dangerous. When the light was on his face, he was unaware of the shadow he cast.
When Flash met his child self in the cave, he was happy. Maybe he just needed to reacquaint himself with his shadow. To love the flow of those things he had shut down. They were still in there, just as his entire life was painted into the layers of Olo. But how could he access them? His inner child could help.
If he could name one thing from within his shadow, he could bring it into the light. One piece could lead him to another until everything was illuminated. He could love them all unconditionally, the way he loved the child he was.
Parts of him had been judged, and pronounced bad. As a small boy, he had accepted those verdicts, but now he only wanted to recover those stolen treasures. He was happy to discover that he’d not lost anything.

Lost doesn’t always mean gone.

They had only been put away for safe keeping.

Flash felt that picturesque carpet beneath his bare feet, still a little unsteady from the ride. The sphere rolled to him, brushing against his toes. He just took a deep breath, memories of the day flooding through him. How could this be? Or how could this not be? The pieces of his life fit so perfectly. He couldn’t imagine it any other way. Still, underneath it all, there seemed to lurk some nagging doubt. Some fear of disappointment. Some crack in the foundation that threatened to bring it all down. Perhaps it came through a dream, or from some other life. A vestige of something generations back.
He glanced around the room, which looked so much like that undersea suite.
The drapes were drawn, so no hologram rose from the bedding. The room was silent and still.
I forgive you, Flash whispered to no one. He said it again, louder. I forgive you, he said in a firm and determined voice. I FORGIVE YOU! He shouted to himself.
The sphere followed him to the bed.
Flash pulled the covers back, set the wine on the nightstand, and climbed into the bed.

Even as his body sank into the mattress, his mind sank into a dream.

He found himself surrounded by brick walls and peeling painted signs. Lights glowed softly from scattered windows. The sky was dark. Rusted metal stairways angled up to dark doorways. He just looked around to determine what kind of place he had traveled to this time. Much of his surroundings lay in black shadow, though an eerie glow burned high above him from the top of a light pole. Wire fragments dangled in that harsh, cold lamplight. It also illuminated him, and cast his shadow onto the alley. He looked to his right and saw a shattered window next to a blackened cavelike loading dock.
He walked, aware of fractured glass on the worn and cracked pavement, a mangled vent on the wall to his left. Where the light hit the walls, he saw illegible graffiti and plundered junction boxes. The painted designs made him think of the art his inner child had made on the cave walls, and the pictures embedded in the castle walls, patiently waiting for light to reveal them. He wondered about the artists, and the meaning behind these compositions. Other than discarded beverage cups and cigarette butts, there was no sign of life. There was no sound other than his footsteps. He came to a road and suddenly the black and white world burst into color. Half a block to his right, a streetlight cycled through green, amber and red. The color reflected off the brick buildings, windowpanes and pavement. Flash noticed it shining up from a broken bottle in the gutter, and he thought of the faceted jewels that paved Olo’s Great Plains. Looking down, he also noticed the colored beacon reflecting off his silver suit.
This abandoned city felt familiar. Like this lonely world, he was also past his prime. Still, he found beauty in these surroundings, and wondered what stories these streets could tell in the decay and fragments they held.
Ahead of him, a theater marquee towered above the street, clothed in broken lightbulbs and empty sockets. He remembered the drive in movie theater he had passed by in another dream, with its absurd cartoon.
Even in its defeated state, this place held a poignant allure, and Flash was confident that the closer he looked, the more he would see. Neon lights burned from shop windows, reflecting off the windows on the opposite side of the street. He passed vacant bars, and mysterious buildings filled with rubble and trappings from some unknown past.
He gazed upon the abandoned main Street, and tried to imagine what it might have been like in its golden age.
Thousands of lightbulbs chasing each other as they scrolled across the cinema awning, and then racing up the vertical sign to round the top and race back down the other side. He tried to picture the elegant and energetic crowd waiting to go in for the show, or a couple emerging from the jewelry store, arm in arm, anticipating a happy future together. There was a coffee shop on the corner. A pastry and coffee would be so nice. But the shop was vacant, dark and dusty. Flash imagined a thriving business district until he caught his own reflection in the cafe window. An old man looked back at him from the reverse empty street in the mirror.
Looking up, he saw the dancing rainbow of light that trickled in around the heavy drapes in his castle suite. He just lay still a while thinking about the abandoned city, and what it would have looked like on a sunny day with shoppers and business people strolling the sidewalks, automobiles filling the parking spaces.
He felt happy to travel like this, without ever leaving his bed.
Flash got up and put his robe on, still craving a roll and a hot beverage. He pulled the curtains back and went down the hall for breakfast.
He still had the image of that abandoned city in his mind. It had a rustic beauty, and the mystery surrounding it was compelling. He had traveled the universe looking for something. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for. You’d think he could at least find a decent cup of coffee.
He remembered his first cup of coffee aboard the mother ship, when he was introduced to the table of elements. That coffee was so delicious and pure. The coffee in the castle was also delicious. Not better or worse than what the table of elements produced, but different. The beans were grown in the foothills beneath the reef like mountains, and the coffee was rich and frothy. It was creamy. Naturally sweet and subtly bitter. You didn’t need to add anything to it. What really set it apart from the mother ship coffee was that it tasted different depending on what season you drank it in, while the table of elements pieced the molecules together in a way that never varied. You could flavor it in any way you liked, but the basic composition or brew was consistent.
Flash fixed a tray and headed back down the corridor to his apartment. The beverage in his cup still bubbled and erupted with tantalizing steam. He had also selected Strawberries Arnaud and a slice of diamond fruitcake. The strawberries were garnished with a blue diamond ring. Once back in his suite, he slid the ring onto his finger and enjoyed his breakfast on the balcony.

The clarity of the water made it difficult to judge the depth. They just sank deeper and deeper. The bright surface seemed to expand as they dropped further from it, and Flash’s mind wandered back to the ocean planet, and even further back to the Atlantic Ocean on Earth.
The fishes still swam in spirals around the group as they neared the sea bed. Here, like above, he saw soaring jewel spires and winding valleys. Even at this depth, seaweeds grew and swayed in the currents. Fields of patchwork sponges carpeted the floor. Flash nearly forgot that he was submerged. There was no crushing weight of water. The sensation was one of weightlessness. Mer creatures swam toward them, appearing out of caves and from behind the crystal towers. From the chest down, they were clothed in iridescent scales, and above that, they looked human.
They waved, beckoning the group to follow. Peering over a steep cliff, they saw a shining city, bustling with commotion. Of course the residents didn’t use valley pathways to get from one place to another. The crowds hung above the buildings the way the whales hovered above the plains in the world above.
The group didn’t go down into the city, but passed above it. One mermaid swam up to them and bowed her head as she greeted the prince.
My name is Meri, she said, and offered to take the entourage sightseeing. She led them to an undersea canyon, the floor of which twinkled, a blood red field that shone in ribbons of light. At one end of this wide valley, a small mountain rose up. At the top of the hill, a jagged rim encircled a crater like hollow. In the center of that, stood a colorful castle.
Why, that looks like our crimson plain! Eeli called back to Flash and the others.
They descended to the chasm floor. Looking about, they saw the reef like mountains, the foothills and the cliff which crested at the cobalt plateau. The seahorses carried them up the cliff where they saw something that resembled the amethyst roadway that led to their home. Passing through the main gateway, they were engulfed in holograms that repeated Olo’s history.
This is the deepest part of the ocean, Meri said, waving her arm to welcome the adventurers.
Eeli gazed up at the tower above him, and a bell or gong rang out loudly through the water. He laughed, amazed at the spectacle.
Flash rode up to his balcony, high on the castle wall. He could see, through the open door, a hologram which appeared to rise from the bed inside. There, Lem stood, craning her neck to see him.
He dismounted the seahorse, stepped onto the platform and into the room. He could hardly believe his eyes.
Oh, I’ve missed you, he said to the apparition. I’ve missed you so much.
Her eyes sparkled. She didn’t speak, yet Flash could hear, or sense her voice, like he had at their first meeting in the mother ship.
I haven’t gone anywhere, she said. I am always with you. There is nothing to fear.
I miss the way it used to be, he said. When you were in your body.
Lem only laughed. I don’t miss it. You’ll see. I am not my body. I don’t need it. My body was afraid. Nothing can hurt me now.
Your friends are waiting. Before you go, I have a present for you. It’s here on the pillow.
Flash looked down and saw a bottle of wine. In sweeping calligraphy, the label read

I am always with you. Forever. Lem.

He clutched the gift to his chest, and thought he must surely be shedding tears. He couldn’t tell, surrounded, as he was, by water.
We will be together again soon, she said.
Until then, I will visit you in your dreams, he answered.
Stepping back out onto the balcony, Flash looked down and saw his friends waving up to him. He waved, and climbed back onto the seahorse. They all headed back up, seeing many more wonders in the terrain before rising again through the borderless blue that engulfed them.
They were silent as they ascended to the surface, as each one had had encounters in that place that were meant only for them.
There was an archipelago scattered offshore, and this is where they surfaced. The string of islands was actually the tops of mountains that rose like enormous ribs, with only the tips of the spires visible above water. Here, Flash said goodbye to his traveling companions who were picked up by a dragon, and flown to the mainland. Flash swam to the closest one. It was deep violet in color. So dark on the shadow side that it appeared black. Rounding the island, the lighted side shone in purples and lavender. Here, he came upon a stairway that spiraled up from beneath the waves, and was hidden from his view as the rock tapered to the top. He climbed it, and was swept from the narrow steps a few times by the crashing of the sea. The water held no danger, so he persevered, until he made it above the waterline. He ascended the steps until he came to an opening, and stepped inside. The light streamed down in rich, cool color, the beams catching facets in the stone that burned in bright white. A fountain burbled and then burst a spray of water as the waves pummeled the structure at the surface of the sea. The sound of the fountain was musical, the steady rhythm of drops was punctuated by gurgles and roars as the tunnel, or pipe emptied and filled again. The ceiling of this space was domed, and as he gazed up at it, he saw that it resembled the night sky. The facets burned like stars, and the projected colors were like nebulae. He sat with his back against the wall, and fell into a daydream. His thoughts were rinsed away in the song, as he had been at the base of the staircase. He allowed the mental pictures to arise, noticing, but not focusing on them until another swell wiped them away. He let them come and go. He didn’t grasp at any outcome. Wishes and fears alike just traveled by.
If a memory happened to catch his attention, he wished it well and allowed it to go on its way.
He began to see constellations in the dome, effortlessly connecting the shapes. The cat. The cauldron. The gate. His eyes closed beneath the familiar Ololian sky. He did not sleep, nor could he say how much time had passed before he stood again.
A red light shone through the stone, dancing through the cathedral like space, and Flash went to the doorway to see what caused the blaze. It was a dragon, come to carry him home. He straddled the beast at the base of its neck. Behind him rose a row of armored plates.
It raced above the sea, and climbed as they crossed the shoreline. In no time, they reached the castle, and Flash stepped onto his balcony. His legs quivered a bit from the thrill of that ride, and while Flash preferred the gentle whales, he could see why Eeli chose the dragons.
At his side, hung a satchel that contained the gift from the deepest part of the ocean.

Flash began to wonder whether K. D. could sense herself becoming obsolete. Her role had changed, at any rate. She wasn’t as matter-of-fact as you might think. Yes, she was a computer, but you may recall that her software had been incorporating more and more of Flash’s own nuance. Her personality had been evolving since they left Earth’s orbit. Since coming down from the mother ship, she had encountered many more people, interacting with them at great length in the museum. Everyone she encountered added to the data she compiled and then in turn, expressed. The new data brought a richness and dynamism that was imperceptible from one day to the next, yet apparent over time. Flash had contemplated this phenomenon in himself, being changed slightly by everything his senses brought into his brain. She was not obsolete at all, but was simply adapting to her new environment.
One day, she attempted to upload her memory banks and transfer them to Earth. This was unsuccessful. She calculated that thousands of years had passed in Earth time since their voyage had begun. One less command in her queue of tasks, and one more bit of information she stored. She would have mentioned this to Flash if he had asked. He didn’t, as he no longer relied on her for information. He could ask, or not ask. The truth was still the truth. Asking wouldn’t change anything but his understanding.
Eeli invited Flash to join him on a trip to Olo’s ocean, and of course Flash accepted.
In the days leading up to his undersea adventure, Flash leafed through the book. He recalled how he and his family had consulted it prior to their arrival on Olo. He read about various structures and life forms he might encounter below the surface. He also learned about the ocean’s dimensions, depths and capacity. Once he and the prince, along with other attendants, found themselves submerged beneath the waves, it wasn’t like he expected it to be at all. It felt familiar in ways that surprised him. The colorful ripples, like the air above, pierced the water in intense beams of various temperatures, based on the hues. Fishlike beings circled in swarms that reflected the light off their bodies in brilliant holograms. They danced in the shapes of whales, mer creatures and dragons, their edges softer, appearing even brighter, set, as they were, against a darker, deeper, uninterrupted background. At first, Flash found himself holding his breath. He did this unconsciously, out of sheer habit. When he at last exhaled, and then inhaled the less dense water, he was refreshed and relaxed.
They had just entered the sea, and already beheld wonders they couldn’t have imagined. Forgive my inadequate description.

The surface still shimmered just above them, a sparkling, rippled ceiling of light.

They hovered there, neither sinking nor floating back up, and Flash felt content. A herd of seahorses rose from deeper water, in a colorful shoal that surrounded them. They formed a ring around the group, facing outwards, the way the mammoths had encircled Flash on the frozen planet. The prince mounted the back of a seahorse, and soon everyone was descending, straddling their submarine steeds.
The water grew cooler and darker as they fell, but only slightly. The light permeated the deepest part of the sea, even into the chasms and trenches.
The ocean floor was bright. Being made of crystal like the dry land above, it captured and reflected the beams back up.

People flocked to the museum, not only to see the artifacts from the mother ship, but also to see the new exhibits featuring Olo’s natural wonders. The undisputed star attraction was the K.D. Head. I know she was simply an electronic device, but due to her face and voice, she really was believable as a living thing. Even Flash got the undeniable feeling that she was happy to be retrieved, and put back to use. The Ololians had so many questions about Earth, about Flash Meridian’s travels through space, and even about their own planet, there was always a crowd around her. There was no lock on the museum door, so the interrogation went on day and night. Like Bucket, K.D., as she’d come to be known, couldn’t have been happier than to share her knowledge and company. The yellow pod, too, was moved from storage into the museum, bridging the entrance to the gallery of jewels, having been made on Olo as a special gift for Flash.
The gift shop now featured Wizzzers and View Masters, only they were made from gemstone crystals, which were abundant. The Ololian Etch-A-Sketches created colorful images in light. Turning the knobs brought the images to life. The View Masters didn’t need reels. Looking through them at the structures on the plain brought surprises to the already brilliant edifices. There was a spire shaped tower just to the side of the museum. It was reminiscent of the reef like mountains visible in the distance. When Aino looked at it through the View Master, she saw the mer creature swimming around it. When she flipped the lever, it held out a bouquet of seaweed toward her. Turning, she pointed it at a mound like form. It looked sad, under a black sky. When she flipped the lever again, the hovel came to life in a lush green landscape. She flipped it again, and Peck came bounding out the door under a sky that contained every shade of blue imaginable.
If you spun an Ololian Wizzzer, it would fly up into the air, shooting sparks of color like fireworks. They hung there flashing for the longest time before slowing and descending softly to the person who had sent them up.
There was nothing boring or stuffy about this museum. People were allowed to touch things. Everything was interactive and educational. There was a room that simulated the cockpit of the mother ship. You could recline in a replica of Flash’s chair, and order up a cup of coffee. You could even turn the gravity off and float about, exploring every detail for yourself.
One of the most popular activities in the exhibit was drinking a glass of wine made by Flash himself.

You could sit in Flash’s seat and actually enter his dreams.

You might find yourself thundering over an ocean reef, trudging through a grayscale powdery world or meeting a giant on a mountain top with Flash Meridian right by your side. You might visit with Flash’s grandfather, who would be happy for the visit, and teach you all he knew about painting.
The toys, the coffee, the wine, everything was free, of course. They had no concept of money.
Even Flash was impressed by the level of detail that went into the exhibit, and particularly the recreated mother ship. It, along with the cave, became a place where he could connect with earlier times in his life. The child within him enjoyed it most of all. His childlike dreams had come true, because he had dared to dream them. The whole universe took on a greater depth of meaning for Flash as he showed his inner child all that he had done and seen. His appreciation grew as everything became sacred and holy.
When the exhibit was eventually replaced, they kept the cockpit simulator intact, and it became a permanent attraction in the museum. K.D. came up to the castle suite, and kept Flash company, as she had aboard the ship. You may remember the sounds Bucket made when he first came aboard. The ones that caused Flash pain, and filled Lem with dismay. To make matters worse, the sphere would join in the uproar. Flash didn’t know whether its sounds had meaning. Poikani still giggled at certain toots and blasts emanating from the trio. They were much quieter in the castle suite, still it was a memory Flash chose to leave in the past. Bucket had spent eons collecting data, and K.D. had been designed to store it. It was doubtful that the information she amassed would ever be transmitted back to Earth, but her compulsion to stockpile it couldn’t be suppressed any more than Flash’s own phenotype could be altered for the convenience of another. He just asked that they use their indoor voices. While she still sang him lullabies, he no longer relied on K.D.’s symphony of clicks and beeps for information and safety.