Lady Denebola caught sight of us approaching and waved enthusiastically. Henry and I stepped into the Royal Box and stood before the King as Lady Denebola bent down to his ear:

"FATHER!" she shouted at a startling volume. "THIS IS MR. TODD AND MR. MARSHALL! THEY'RE FROM EARTH!"

The words seemed to barely register with King Azodii-Bal. He blinked and rolled his eyes to the side, glancing up at Denebola with a tired and bored look.

"Mahhh?" said the King.

"MR. TODD AND MR. MARSHALL! THEY'RE THE FIRST PEOPLE FROM EARTH…" she stepped directly in front of the King to get his full attention before continuing, "…THE FIRST PEOPLE FROM EARTH TO STEP FOOT ON PLANET AZODII!" Lady Denebola turned back and flashed us a professional smile.

It occurred to me in that moment that I knew nothing about the proper protocol for meeting Azodii royalty. I've never met a King before, anywhere, much less the King of a distant planet. In England, there are all kinds of special rules for meeting with royalty - bowing, eye contact, speaking or not speaking, touching or not touching. Royal etiquette can be complicated. I found myself suddenly frozen with the fear that I might do or say something that would give offense.

I looked sideways at Henry, and we both bowed to the King - slight bows from the waist that I'm sure looked as awkward as they felt.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness!" Henry shouted.

"We are honored to be here! On your planet. Azodii." I said.

King Azodii-Bal looked down at his fingers, then back at Lady Denebola. "Muhh," he mumbled. The crown on the top of his head looked heavy and oversized, as if the weight of it were pressing the aged King deeper into his throne. Azodii-Bal reached up, took the crown off his head, and tried to hide it under his throne before Lady Denebola gently scolded him and took it from the King's hands.

Then, the King raised his head and looked directly at me for what felt like the first time. He straightened in his throne and, to my surprise, pointed one of his six fingers at me.

I was unsure of what to do next, even Lady Denebola seemed puzzled as King Azodii-Bal pointed and sputtered at me. He seemed to beckon to me, so I took a step closer. Once I was within arm's reach, the King leaned forward and poked my ski jacket.

"Your highness?" I stood still and let the King stick his fingers into the down insulation.

"Urkk," the King fumbled with the zipper at my neck. "Ur – Zerk."

"FATHER, NO," Lady Denebola kept her smile, but her composure was starting to crack. "NO. THIS ISN'T ZERK. IT'S MR. MARSHALL, FROM EARTH!"

"Zerk zerk," the King mumbled as she pried his fingers away from me.

"DAD, ZERK IS STILL MISSING!" she yelled with a smile on her face.

"Let's find a spot over here!" Parksnip appeared behind us and quickly ushered us into a corner of the Royal Box, facing the stage.

"That didn't go well, did it?" I whispered to Premier Oato once we were settled abnd out of earshot. I looked back at the King, who now had a blue finger up each nostril and seemed to have forgotten about me. "Do I look like Zerk? Is that why he got confused?"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Oh look!" Oato ignored my question and pointed to the stage. "The Heart Ceremony is starting."

Sure enough, the drumming had started again and shadowy figures were moving about the stage under the mammoth statue of Gar-Mel. Music filled the air, a soft solo melody from a flute-like instrument, a tune that sounded distant, forlorn.

The stage was flooded with a cold blue light, revealing faceless figures wrapped in bundles of cloth and fur. As the drum tempo accelerated, the music turned harsh, with sharp notes that pierced the air like the frozen wind outside the dome.

I remembered that I still had a cup of Tchugg in my hand. I took a long sip through the straw in my oxygenator mask – it was warming and good, I noticed that this batch had an even stronger taste. I watched as the performers moved around the stage in a choreographed dance - bundles of heavy fabric moving through a cold, blue world.

One of the figures stepped downstage, lifted his head and lowered his cloak revealing a dark face. He was abnormally tall, I suspected he was wearing high-heeled boots under the layers of cloth. It was hard to tell if it was the blue skin under the blue light, or a kind of stage make-up that made the actor's facial features melt into the surrounding darkness – he looked like a floating pair of eyes and lips, resting atop a mound of rags.

The music stopped and the performer spoke directly to the audience, his voice amplified through the Main Hall:

"The Azodii were born in the Frost.

"Each generation learned to survive the Frost, and each generation grew stronger.

"The Azodii learned the secrets of fire. The Azodii built shelters of stone and ice to protect themselves from the storm."

A chorus of a half-dozen performers did an interpretive dance behind the narrator, huddling over imaginary fires in invisible homes, pantomiming the primitive lives of the ancient Azodii.

"The Azodii learned to hunt: first the night slugs, then the frost vultures, then the great fur-terrors of the carbon mountains. But there was one beast that the Azodii could not defeat – Mother Frost, the cold itself."

A dancer flew across the stage, leaping and twirling, dressed in a blinding white outfit and trailing snow and ice behind her. When she touched another performer, the latter froze stiff and crumpled to the ground in a graceful 'death.'

"Mother Frost brought the ice-storms. Mother Frost brought the winds of death.

"When the Azodii made fire, Mother Frost snuffed it out. When the Azodii built homes, Mother Frost doubled her cold to penetrate the walls. She was undefeatable."

The dancer who was Mother Frost had touched all of the others on stage, except the narrator. The actors lay strewn about, frozen and still in grotesque tableau - victims of the cold. Mother Frost, the only one left standing, stood in the spotlight, panting. Her cloud of visible breath became a face – the evil face of a frozen demon, with razor-sharp icicle teeth and a wolf-like snarl…

"Huh," Henry mumbled quietly.

"What's wrong?" I whispered back.

"Nothing," he said. "My mouth feels numb."

There was a flash and a lighting effect, then a loud clang like a gong that made both Henry and I jump. My eyes landed on the dancer, Mother Frost, who began another turn around the perimeter of the stage.

I saw that Lady Denebola was standing with us now, on the opposite side of Henry. Premier Oato was a few feet behind me, mingling with someone who may have been a member of the Tribunal.

I looked up at the statue, the grinning face of Gar-Mel, and saw water running down the outside. Or maybe the statue was melting? I figured it must be another lighting effect, but something about it made me uneasy.

The drumbeat slowed. Mother Frost was glowing white, almost radiating light herself. For a moment she seemed to flicker on and off, like a hologram or a TV image with a bad connection. Then she dissolved into a pattern of smoke and haze, before quickly reappearing and sailing across the stage like a meteor, leaving a trail of ice crystals in the air behind her.

My face started to feel warm. Then hot. I looked down into my mug. "Henry?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think this Tchugg has…"

"A hallucinogen in it?" Henry finished my thought, and I suppose that was my answer. "Yeah. Maybe. Well – definitely. Yes. A mild one."

The room started to breathe, expanding and constricting with the rhythm of the music. The hall swayed, the floor dropped out below my feet as the performance continued.