The three passed through a thick metal door and Øregård pulled it shut behind them sealing off the cold. Inside there was a wall of glass with a second far more advanced door. They were scanned with a thin beam of light. The glass door opened and the smell of warmth, rich food, and flowers flooded the antechamber. 

On the other side of the glass was a room styled like Shangri-la. The cavern was big and well lit from above. Bright lights lined the edges, which were also lined with trees and a sizable hydroponics garden. Handwoven Persian rugs covered the floor. Melock stepped in and ran his toes through the thick warm fibers.

"Please, do come in and leave your boots and weapons at the door. You will not need them here."

The voice came from a side room, out of which walked an elderly woman with long curly gray hair and a big smile. She wore the seafoam green robes of the 71EEB8. She had the silvery skin and black eyes of the clones, but she was full in figure and her untethered mammalian curves showed proudly through her robes.

"A Gastraddar! You'll behave yourself in my home or I'll send you back out into the cold," she said. 

"I promise we all will. I am Melock," he said signaling to the others to remove their shoes. 

Murphy pulled off her boots and Øregård sat down on the floor with a clank muttering to himself as he pulled at his armored footwear. The woman walked up to meet them. 

"And I am Toebee. You aren't by chance the crew of the ship that just crashed?"

"That would be us."

She looked Melock up and down, eyeing the golden pendant he wore around his neck. 

"You're an Abraxian wizard. The second I've met. I detected your teleportation and I recognize the features of your amulet. Are you Melock the Wise? The greatest diviner and conjuror in the universe?"

"How is it that you know me?" 

"I know of you because the 71EEB8 know of you. What one of us knows, all of us know," said Toebee. 

"We're looking for a 71EEB8 clone." 

"And so you've found one," said Toebee. 

"I was told you were all male," said Melock. 

"Most of us are. Statistically, one in every 400 million clones has some kind of genetic mutation. Mine came in the form of two X chromosomes. Thick lustrous hair is an envious side effect." 

"Are there other female clones?" asked Murphy. 

"I've met a handful in my time. It's hard for ladies in a male-dominated society. And who might you be, my dear?"

"I am Sister Murphy."  

Toebee opened her arms wide for a hug and Murphy awkwardly stepped up for it. The woman's strong arms wrapped around her and squeezed. Murphy closed her eyes and let the motherly woman fill her with emotional support. Murphy felt love, compassion, and unlimited empathy flow from Toebee straight into her heart. The effect was profound. 

"You remind me of my grandmother," whispered Murphy into Toebee's curls. 

"I get that a lot."

Tobee let go of Murphy and gave a second hug to Melock. She and Melock briefly touched foreheads then parted. Øregård stepped into the carpeted living room. Everyone looked down at the shaggy black hair covering his huge green feet. Toebee opened her arms to him. 

"Clones don't hug," said Øregård.

"Some do. You're from the Jagged Sword Clan, outside of the King's regular army. Your ancestral armor gives you away."

Øregård puffed up with pride. "We fight for our King when his cause is just."

"The path of the moral warrior is a hard one, come, pretend I'm your Auntie." 

Øregård shrugged his shoulders, dismissed his normal stoicism, and picked the woman off the floor. She wrapped her arms around his big head and squeezed. She gave the universe's second-best hugs only beaten out by Mātā Amritānandamayī, better known as Amma the hugging saint of India. Øregård didn't entirely trust the emotions that flooded into him but he was also very certain he would kill to protect this newfound Auntie. 

"Øregård," he said setting her back down.

Murphy was moved by this exchange but the smells of the cavern home moved her even more.

"What, if I may ask, are you cooking?" said Murphy.

Toebee led them into the kitchen, where a large iron skillet was beginning to smoke.

"For escargots, slowly saute the snails over low heat and add the shallots and garlic. Season with salt and pepper, and stir in your herbs. Then set aside and let them cool." She dumped the bright red-shelled snails into a copper dish.

"Now, I must warn you, this particular species are what they call dead snails, for the obvious reason they call everything dead around here. They pack a bit of a psychedelic punch, which seems to be a byproduct of their diet of eating the fungi."

She went through the kitchen's back door deeper into the cave and the group followed. They walked toward a soft purple glow and the tunnel opened into a great room. There was a pond in the middle and all around grew thousands of purple and white polka-dotted mushrooms. Their bioluminescent light sparkled on the water and reflected across the ceiling.

"This is an altered strain of the planet's main species. Really very elegant don't you think?"

Toebee bent over with a grunt and plucked up two red and white striped snails that looked like peppermints in her hand.

"The fungi is pathogenic to you and me but the snails love it. In turn, they provide a delicious source of protein and a mental assist to my trans-dimensional meditation."

"Interesting," said Melock. 

Toebee led them back through the kitchen grabbing the bowl of escargots on the way. They returned to the main room and sat on a pile of pillows. Their designs were colorful and elaborate with markings, images, and languages running far beyond the knowledge of her guests. Toebee sat down with a fluff on a stack of embroidery, the bowl of snails in her lap.

"So what can the Mystic of the Planet of the Dead do for you?" 

Melock sat cross-legged opposite her.

"I'm researching life extension with a lean towards immortality and in doing so seeking the guidance of your species. We're also seeking a Technowizard called Tykö. And ultimately, we are stranded here without a ship or coordinates to jump to."

"I love how you say 'jump to' as if space travel is nothing more than hopping from rock to rock across a babbling brook," said Toebee. 

"Isn't it?" said Melock. 

"Only if you know exactly where the rocks are."

Toebee set the copper bowl full of psychedelic snails on the floor in front of her. Murphy sat down next to her licking her lips and Øregård clanked down on her opposite side. Toebee snatched a snail from the bowl, sucked it out of its shell, and swallowed it. 

"Tonight you will stay with me, we will take a journey of the mind, and I will answer as many questions as I can. I'm a librarian of sorts, the keeper of knowledge for the 71EEB8 species and their predecessor the EE71A7. I scanned you when you came in and have added your genetic sequencing to my archive. Tomorrow I will send you on your way. Is this satisfactory?"

"Trans-dimensional meditation is certainly something I'd be willing to experiment with," said Melock helping himself to a handful of escargot. 

"They look and smell delicious," said Murphy picking one up and looking at the candy-striped shell. 

"Think of it as a spiritual journey. Some feel the experience brings them closer to god," suggested Toebee. 

Murphy pulled the slimy meat out of the shell, smelled it, and tasted it before eating the entire thing with a smile. "Wonderfully tasty."

"Thank you, dearie. Øregård, you'll join us won't you?" she said holding out the bowl in his direction. 

"I don't eat slugs. A warrior must keep a sharp mind. I will rest and watch over you in the night." 

He said this to Sister Murphy and seemingly to a lesser extent for Melock and Toebee. He leaned back into a pile of pillows and immediately began to snore. Melock pulled a glass jar out of his pack, set it on the floor next to the copper bowl, and placed his discarded shell into it. 

"I'm a naturalist and I'd love to add a jar of these beautiful shells to my collection."

Murphy and Toebee both added their shells to the jar. 

"When you say you scanned us," asked Melock, "is that how you knew our backgrounds?"

"It is," said Toebee. "For instance, I know you are around the same age I am, give or take a century or two. I can tell that you have done many things to extend your life but you have not done any technological nor genetic enhancements. The first one I would recommend is getting a neural transmitter implanted in your brain." 

"Hvaal suggested the same thing," said Melock. 

"It would enable you to interact with computers, robots, and many other species without the need for external devices. I could do the surgery myself but I would recommend you wait until you meet the 71s propper. They'll have pristine medical facilities."

"Noted."

Time passed, Øregård continued to snore, and Melock's jar filled with the candy cane swirls of exotic snail shells.

"Are you familiar with Astral plane travel?" Toebee asked the wizard. 

Melock ran a hand down his mustache, placed his palms on his knees, and closed his eyes. Out of his body rose a glowing projection of himself. It fluxed through myriad rainbow colors and stood before them for a moment before vanishing. His actual body continued to sit there with its eyes closed. 

"Toebee," said Murphy, "I'm starting to freak out." 

The old mystic took the hand of the young girl and patted it gently.

"Honey, we'll do this together." 

Toebee dug around in the pillow pile and pulled out a small silver stand and a chunk of iron ore. She placed the jagged object on the stand and centered it between them. She dug around more in the pillows and found a thin golden headband, which she placed on Murphy's head like a crown. 

"Look into the meteorite. Breathe slowly and focus on the object."

Murphy did and the rock looked like a hard rusty orb, then it began to change. At first only slightly, but eventually, it became translucent and after that a kaleidoscope of color and motion.