Gideon Interviews Galvistor

[Gideon] “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us for our first formal interview. We hope to have many more as we introduce you to the inhabitants of our diverse worlds.

“Tonight I’ve moved from where I usually dictate my half of this blog, my own very comfortable study, in order to accommodate our first interviewee, my fellow blogger, Galvistor.

“We are in…well, there’s no polite way to put this. I’m perched on a rock in a cave. A very hard rock in a very damp, dark, and cramped cave. I’m sure your imagination can fill in the details of darkness and dampness, but believe me, I am going to need to tell you why this cave is cr--”

Muffled curse, scuffling and several odd thumps…

“Sorry about that. We’re having to make a few adjustments, because as I was about to describe, tonight’s guest is a bit large and I was sitting in the wrong spot. Had to duck a tail. Um, the tail of our guest, not someone who’s following us. Although I imagine any number of people might follow us, if they saw what I’m seeing now. Galvistor, you are…there’s not another word to describe it except magnificent.” …coughes… “Shiny black scales, great gleaming claws…very nice, uh, jaw tendrils. I wonder, however, about that trickle of green-tinted smoke snaking from your nostrils…” more coughing… “Could you do that a bit less, just for a while? This body’s only human.”

[Galvistor] “Apologies. Just a little internal combustion, heat, temperature regulation, if you will, to warm my gullets. The last time I visited this cave it was drier. Next time I shall assess the situation prior to suggesting a location for our meeting. There you are, the smoke is suppressed, contained, restrained to a more environmentally friendly level.”

[Gideon] “Thank you. And thank you for pausing in what I’m sure is a busy schedule for this interview.”

[Galvistor] “Yes, yes, and thank you for accommodating my requirements, needs, requests.” Muffled exclamation from interviewer as huge claw whooshes through air to tap against scales… “You can see why I find human habitats a tad restrictive. Restraining. Limiting. I don’t recall this cave being quite so tight. But then, my mass has increased since then.” Sound of wing scraping against ceiling… “S’not as if one can consciously oppress their body parts.”

[Gideon] “Actually…but we’re discussing you. Would it be correct for me to assume, from your appearance, that you are a type of reptile?”

[Galvistor] “Am I a reptile? Well, yes…and no. Rather, I am at the higher end of the evolutionary scale of that particular Class of Creature. You know, of course, the Classifications, having studied human-kind as you have?”

[Gideon] “I’ve never spent much time stu--”

[Galvistor] “Animalia, Chordata, down to the Class of Reptilia…the Order however, that is where we Dragons made our bold move toward being beasts of uncommonality.”

[Gideon] “Uncommonality? ”

[Galvistor] “Isn’t that a word? Of course it is! I said it, didn’t I?”

Sound of tapping on a keyboard.

[Gideon] “My assistant has Wikipedia up and she can’t seem to--”

[Galvistor] “How rude! Well, if it’s not in the dictionary, it ought to be! In any case, we are the Order Dragonis…”

More keyboard tapping.

[Gideon] “Ah, shouldn’t that be Order Dragonia?”

[Galvistor] “Yes, yes, I know most Order groups end in an “a”, but did I not say we strive for uncommonality? Difference? The unusual? What other beast can you speak of, expound on, discourse about that has wings and tail and claws and a superior verbal capability all rolled into one?”

[Gideon] “Have you ever met an Xatrobrian? Although I’m not sure if they have wings under their armor. For that matter, I guess no one would consider them verbally skilled. Or even verbal.”

[Galvistor] “A what? Never heard of it. Where does this creature reside, live, linger in residence?”

[Gideon] “On a very hot and swampy planet. I narrowly missed being sent there once.”

[Galvistor] “Well, should I ever endeavor to reach such a rather severe sounding habitat, locale, place I’ll look the beast up. Although I am disinclined to visit swamps. Nasty places, bad smelling. And with my superior olfactory system, I know bad smells when I encounter them.”

[Gideon] “You have impressive nostrils, I must admit. I’ve never seen any quite like them.”

[Galvistor] “Indeed? Don’t get out much, do you? Meanwhile, I digress. My fellow Dragons and I are of the Order Dragonis, without an ‘a’, which sets us decidedly, assuredly, without fear of exaggeration, apart from all other reptiles. Princess Shaila, the heroine of my books, once referred to me as a ‘begetter of toads and snakes.’ A recalcitrant female, the Princess, but that is a whole other discussion.”

[Gideon] “I know exactly how you feel.”

[Galvistor] “Do you? At another time, that will be a delightful dialogue. In any case, I informed the Princess in a very firm tone that toads are wholly unrelated and that a snake’s evolutionary path is much lower, lesser, fundamentally unrelated to such as I.”

Abrupt silence.

[Gideon] “Galvistor? Why are you staring at me like that?”

[Galvistor] “May I ask, with all due respect, deference, esteem—exactly what Classification do you fall under?”

[Gideon] “I don’t believe there’s a classification for the Olam. Are your eyes sensitive to very bright light? No? Then if you like, I can change for a moment into my real form.”

Faint humming sound, followed by a pause…

[Galvistor] “Fascinating! If I may…” Sucking sound of huge inhalation. “Oh dear…ah, ah, AHHH—” Eardrum-shattering sneeze. “Oh.” Sniff. “Bless me. No one else will.”

Short pause, followed by faint, damp hum. Human sigh.

[Gideon] “I suppose I should have anticipated that.” Sound of damp splat followed by low muttering. “One does not sniff an Olam. And my suit--”

[Galvistor] “I do beg your pardon. It's instinct, you know. Impulse. Nature. One simply has to take a little sniff in order to, well, evaluate a being. You have an interesting smell, at that. Rather energetic and crisp, like stratospheric ozone. Can that be dry-cleaned? The suit, of course, not the smell.”

[Gideon] Another sigh. “Perhaps we should change the subject. I’m sure the members of our audience have read other books containing creatures who call themselves dragons and they must have misconceptions as to the true nature of your type. Are you really as violent as we’ve been led to believe? For instance, have you ever been in a fight?”

[Galvistor] “There was a time when I would have resented the implication that I would lower myself to engage in a fight. A brawl. A clash of wills. However, times change and one changes with them. I hesitate to discuss my last fight—or the one before that. No fond memories to either one. Life changing circumstances, both--”

[Gideon] “Life changing circumstances are often the most interesting.”

[Galvistor] “Very well, I will tell you of those, but all in good time. Probably not today. One should begin at the beginning, I suppose. My first fight—ah! An interesting tussle more in line with my intellectual nature. Not that there wasn’t some physicality as well. If one must call it a ‘fight’, it came about because that sneak thief Azurstor had the temerity, nerve, impudence to filch a deer from my forest.”

[Gideon] “You have a forest? Then why are we stuffed into this cave?”

[Galvistor] “Well, alright, the King’s forest. But I’m responsible for it. During my brief sojourn outside the Veil, some of the other Dragons apparently thought I was gone for good because they began snatching, stealing, looting deer and who knows what other food beasts from the forest. I caught Azurstor—”

[Gideon] “Wait. Slow down. The King? The Veil? Who did you say is Azurstor?”

[Galvistor] “Azurstor is the blue Dragon that flies for the Kingdom of Roberyll. The only claim to fame for that small realm is that it contains The Only Sea. At least the only one in Isoladia. Where was I?”

[Gideon] Pause. “Hunting deer?”

[Galvistor] “Ah, yes, the blue thief was caught in the act! I had no recourse, choice, option but to attack. Well, what can I say? I wasn’t quite myself. The air outside the Veil had skewed my thoughts toward a more violent and most unnatural nature. I tore the reprobate’s wing. Stalled his flight in a most satisfying manner.”

[Gideon] “And then you ate him, of course. So the whole sacrificial virgin dietary requirement is just a myth?”

[Galvistor] “Virgin? Sacrifice? Great God Gansur—what a distasteful thought, and totally without merit. No, I did not eat the rascal! One does not consume a species of equitable intellect, no matter how aggravating they are. One certainly does not consume their own species!” Pause. “You don’t, uh, do such a thing, do you?”

[Gideon] “In my Olam form, I don’t even eat.”

[Galvistor] Sniff. “Ah. You have my most profound sympathy. Well, moving on. I did injure Azurstor, but I saved him from a nasty fall. A thousand years of civility, after all, are entrenched in my bones. Afterwards the disgusting creature had the gall to deny his culpability. Guilt. Fault. We had a marvelous oral encounter at that point.”

[Gideon] “Just a moment. Are you telling me all you did was rip his wing and give him a good scolding? What kind of fight is that?”

[Galvistor] “Verbal, my good man. Or…whatever you are. We engaged in a copious, profuse, bountiful exchange of words. Would you care to hear a few of our most memorable exchanges?” Silence. “I shall share them in any case. Do you good to learn from a master. Let me see…ah yes: I called him a ‘rapacious reptilian maggot’. To which he replied by calling me a ‘macrosomatous lizard’. I returned with a ‘miasmatic makebate’, and he countered with ‘mephitic megalonisic’. I got him one up with ‘microsephalic malefic medivor’, and he shot back with ‘mangy mordac—”

Sound of frantic keyboard tapping.

[Gideon] “I’m afraid my assistant has Wikipedia up again.”

[Galvistor] “Busy little fingers, aren’t they? Very well, but if you must please look the words up later. Otherwise we’ll be here all night! In any case, that’s as far as it went. Princess Shaila and Prince Sol—of course, he wasn’t a Prince at that point—interfered. Interjected themselves directly into the fray.”

[Gideon] “By…?”

[Galvistor] “Why—she yelled STOP, and of course, we did. I am civilized, after all. She is my Princess. To hear is to obey.”

[Gideon] “The women of Earth would adore you.”

[Galvistor] “I don’t do everything she tells me. But I try to be reasonably responsive, as suits the occasion and wisdom of the request. To do everything she requests would require that I clone my mighty self. And that I take leave of my phenomenal senses as well. Which I refuse to do. I suppose you have engaged in your share of physical encounters?”

[Gideon] Pause, followed by a laugh. “I suppose mine have been mostly verbal as well, with a few exceptions. But we should leave those stories for another time. You need to stretch your wings and Iwould like to get out of these wet clothes. But thank you again for volunteering to be the subject of our first interview.”

[Galvistor] “Oh, give it no second thought, consideration, reflection. Of course you wanted to interview me. Who would not, superior being that I am? How could I not but volunteer? In any case, you’re on the hot seat next.”

[Gideon] “Hot seat?”

[Galvistor] “Just a little jest, joke, heated humor. I’ll not be setting flame to a rock—or a chair, if that’s your choice of seat next time around. The flames tend to dry me out in any case. Speaking of which—I’m in the mood for an ale. A libation. A cold one. Care to join me, partake, tie one on?”

[Gideon] “I would, thank you.”

Sounds of equipment being gathered, shuffling feet and claws.

[Galvistor] “Not here, of course…oops. Sorry. Gotta watch the tail. So, let’s have that ale, after you dry off, of course. And bring along the little Wikipedia addict. The computer, however, isn’t invited.”

Voices fade out.