Kenom spent the next few days answering all the electro messages. "Thank you for all your kind words, I am sorry that I was unable to, etc...etc...etc." Most of his replies were short, as he had so many. He did, however, reply in a more lengthy way to the Vertons. They sent him several electro gifts and several very moving messages. He told them how happy he was that he had been of some help, etc..etc., and how pleased Central Command was with all the fine work they were doing with the tunnel repairs. He promised them that when he got back to Zimtel he would talk to his DNA father to see if something could be done about getting the Vertons, back on their home planet, to recognize their plight. He thought something should be done to change their "forgotten people" status.
The message that surprised him the most was the one he received from the Sport Dome. The message went into great detail about the changes that were being made there. Body monitors on all the seats in the Fleck-masters sections, large viewing monitors for the Flectoid patrolman, organic food stations, a permanent music band, a new state-of-the-art competition field, -just to name a few. It was signed by each and every Sport Lord. Kenom smiled when he read the message, there was nothing they could do for the Vertons when they needed fixing up, but there was always plenty of money to fix up a sports facility. But Kenom held no grudges, his answer was gracious, telling them how happy he was that they were doing so well, and wished them further success. He thought for a moment about the essay he had once read on the Law of Occurrence. Surely, he thought, that this had been a good example of turning a bad occurrence into a good one. Things had turned out well for the Vertons and the Flectons. Perhaps there is something to this theory.
Kenom was overwhelmed by all the invitations to parties and special functions he had been invited to since his status as "Special Patrolman" had become known. He received messages from Fleck-masters that he had never even met, from Patrol Domes he had never visited. He couldn't help but wonder if he would have been so popular if had never been found out. But, as he had had some experience in these matters while traveling with his DNA father, he accepted it as, "the burden of power."
The one message that he liked the best came from Fleck-master Tjubo. It was hand written and hand decorated. It read, "My dear friend Kenom. I am indeed sorry that you are leaving us so soon. It is hard to believe that the war season is over already. I will never forget the many hour-marks we spent talking. Anyone who is so open to new ideas and is willing to view the universe, and all its life forms, without prejudice, is truly a great man. You are that, plus, you are truly an exceptional Zimtellion. I know the future for you is a bright one. I will never forget meeting you.” Signed, Tjubo. Kenom read it several times, he was not only pleased at what it said, but it was pleasing to look at as well.
Enew came in, interrupting Kenom's thoughts, and said, "Well, I think we are pretty much ready to leave, I've shut down most of the electro equipment and I've sent our stuff over to the Central Dome loading platform to be loaded into a Nominal-module. It should be ready for us to leave tomorrow." "Good, said Kenom, Thanks." Don't forget my little organic plant," he added. "Don't worry," said Enew, "it's packed in a special, organic shipping container." "Good, thanks." said Kenom, as he returned to his message writing. His thought pattern had now been interrupted, and instead of a lengthy reply, he just wrote Tjubo a quick note, thanking him for his kind words and assuring him that he would also not forget their talks
The next morning, after one final inspection of the Mini-dome, Kenom and Enew grabbed what small items that were left, and got into their module and headed out for the Central Dome to say goodbye to Major Finon. Kenom sealed the module so that they wouldn't be seen, he never liked goodbyes and he was afraid he might run into one of the Fleck-masters or Fleck-lords on one of the transfer stations. He had already said what needed to be said in his electro-messages, seeing anyone in person would only seem anti-climatic. He preferred to just be gone.