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.