StarIQ.com's Cosmic Correspondent Kim Rogers-Gallagher has been invited to the planets' secret hangout. She's the first astrologer to enter this starry domain, and reports regularly on her findings there.

Cosmic Café Part 12:
Mercury's Message

I pushed the "talk" button on the cell-phone, and said hello.

"Hey, doll," Mercury's voice answered me. "Got that number you wanted."

I squinted at the clock, which I absolutely couldn't see without my contacts. "What number?" Okay, so I'm not razor-sharp before I've had coffee.

Mercury  sighed loudly. "Your friend, your friend, your missing friend. Michael. The knight guy—you know. Got his number right here. You got a pen?"

Well, sure. Even half asleep, I knew what was going on. Mercury had been retrograde, and in Pisces. So of course he could find a "missing person" from my sentimental past—one that I'd just had a very Piscean dream about. That was what he was built for. I grabbed a pen and began scribbling down the number. Before I had a chance to thank him, however, he cleared his throat and said, "Oh, by the way, Saturn called again."

Talk about a reality-check. "Okay. I'll call him. I'll call him."

"You really should, you know," Mercury said. "He gets so darned cranky when you try to ignore him."

I was starting to get cranky myself. "I'll call him," I said, a bit too sharply—then I remembered that Mercury was in Pisces, a soft, sensitive sign that gets its feelings hurt way too easily. So I apologized before he had a chance to be hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm just not awake yet."

I also wasn't looking forward to dealing with Saturn so quickly after my lovely Neptunian dream. In fact, since Neptune was sitting directly on my woozy Twelfth House Moon, I would have been quite happy to stay permanently in Never-Never Land. But all good things must come to an end—a very Saturnian philosophy—and I knew that putting Saturn off wasn't a great idea.

Mercury obviously understood. "Okay, doll," he said. "Uncle J says to stop in after you deal with Mr. Cranky."

I smiled, then, at the thought of Jupiter, and resolved to get in contact with Saturn immediately. As it turned out, Saturn had similar plans—and as usual, the message was delivered by Mercury.

I was about to ask him how to get in contact with Saturn, but once again, he'd read my mind. "Just dial five," he said. "And don't be surprised if a woman answers."

A woman? Wasn't Saturn about as male as a planetary energy could get? Maybe he had a girlfriend? No. Saturn wasn't the type of guy who liked "dating." I was confused—but also curious, thanks to Mercury.

I made coffee, showered and dressed conservatively. If Saturn wanted to see me immediately, I was going to be prepared for him. Or her. Or them. Whatever. I picked up my new galactic cell-phone, as I'd begun to think of it, and poked the number five firmly.

A woman answered. And she sounded like an older woman. "Yes, Kim. This is Saturn."

I really didn't know what to say. "Uh, oh. Well, hello. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes. But in person, dear," she said. "At my office."

Of course. Was there another place for a meeting with Saturn? "Okay," I agreed. "How do I get there?"

"There's an office next to the Café," she answered. "The door is to the right. When you arrive, ring the buzzer and I'll let you in. And please try to be prompt."

Obviously, Saturn was familiar with my Sagittarian propensity for…oh, let's call it "tardiness." But I was certainly going to make this appointment on time. "When would you like to see me?" I asked.

"Right away," she said. "There's no time like the present, child."

"I'm on my way." I was touched, but not surprised, to hear Saturn warn me to be careful driving just before she hung up.

Next Week: Saturn, The Elderly Wise-Woman