Ahead of him were a hundred or more tents, mostly dirty, ramshackle things, but with three pod-like constructions in there, too, which helped lift the scene from ‘grim campsite’ to ‘grim campsite with the occasional expensive-looking tent.’
Carvers stood around in bunches, knotted together as they discussed whatever it was that had just happened. Some held court, gesticulating angrily while those gathered around them nodded and punched their fists. Others held each other, each lending the other their strength and support. A surprising number laughed and cracked jokes. Although, given who they all were, probably not that surprising a number.
Cal tried to turn to Carver Two, but the bigger man’s grip made turning impossible. He marched Cal on, steering him through the camp and towards one of the plastic and metal pods standing near the edge.
“What the fonk was that?” Cal asked. “What’s going on?”
“A breach,” said Two. “That universe was temporary. More temporary than we realized. The walls gave way. It is no more.”
“And the black thing?” Cal asked. His head still ached at the thought of the endless gulf he’d seen. “Or, you know, the not-black thing? Or whatever. What was that?”
Two guided Cal past a pair of other Carvers. They both had silvery skin, matching orange jumpsuits, and were holding hands. They nodded respectfully to Two when he and Cal passed by.
“That – what you saw – that was the Void,” Carver Two explained. He still had his staff, and used it to gesture for a blue-haired Carver with glossy white eyes to step aside. “You remember we showed you all those universes as bubbles?”
“It was five minutes ago. An eventful five minutes, I’ll give you, but still. Yes. I remember,” said Cal, finding himself slightly annoyed by the question, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. “What about it?”
“If the universes are bubbles, then the Void is the space between them,” said Two. “But by ‘space’ I don’t mean ‘space’. As in, it’s not ‘space’ in the traditional sense.”
“Right. That’s cleared that up, then.”
“I mean it’s ‘space’ as in ‘a gap.’ Not ‘space’ as in stars, planets, and so on,” said Two. He stopped outside the pod, which was quite a bit larger up close than Cal had been expecting. After keying in a lengthy number of digits into a wall-mounted control panel, there was a faint click, and Two pushed open what seemed to Cal to be quite a flimsy door.
“Still not getting it,” Cal admitted. “I feel I’m kind of there, but not quite.”
Carver Two ducked, as if to enter the pod, then stopped. “It’s complicated,” he admitted. “Think of it like this. Space – outer space – is infinite. In terms of conventional physics, at least. Each ‘bubble’ actually goes on forever in every direction, so it’s impossible to reach the walls, or even to know if they exist. From the inside, I mean.”
“Right,” said Cal, despite the fact everything was now making even less sense than it had been prior to that sentence.
“So, you have your universe, which contains – by definition – everything in the universe,” said Two.
Cal thought it was probably too soon to say, “Right,” again, so just nodded in what he hoped was quite a learned way.
“OK, so the Void is like that, only sort of the opposite.”
“Right,” said Cal, although even he wasn’t convinced by the way he said it. “In what way?”
“The Universe – all universes, I mean – each contain everything. The Void itself is empty, yet contains an infinite number of universes. And, in terms of what you saw when you looked at it, it contains infinite possibility. Not only are all universes contained within it, but all potential universes are in there, too. And yet, in a very real sense, it’s completely empty.”
Carver Two raised his gray-flecked eyebrows. “Make sense?”
“Totally,” said Cal. “Yep. Crystal clear now, thanks.”
Two smiled, grimly. “I told you it was complicated. Come.”
He ducked through the short, narrow door, and Cal clambered in after him. The inside of the pod was sparse, but functional. There was a hammock strung between two walls (or, since the pod was circular, between the one wall, Cal decided), a small area that seemed to be for food preparation, and, to Cal’s amazement, three child-sized beanbag chairs, all featuring slight variations of the Ghostbusters logo.
“Hey, I had that beanbag!” he said.
“Many of us did,” said Carver Two.
“Check it out, I used to love doing this,” Cal said.
“Don’t!” said Carver Two, but it was too late. Cal sprung into the air, then slammed down into the beanbag. It exploded immediately, and the floor of the pod was suddenly awash with thousands upon thousands of tiny white pellets.
Cal looked around at the mess, then smiled sheepishly up at Two. “That didn’t used to happen,” he said. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” said Two, although his heavy sigh suggested otherwise. “Many of us did that, too. I used to have six. One for each of the Ghostbusters themselves.”
“There were only four Ghostbusters.”
Carver Two shrugged. “In your universe, perhaps.”
“Right. Fair enough,” said Cal. “Still, great movie.”
“Movie?” said Two, frowning. “Your universe made a Ghostbusters movie?” He smiled, wistfully. “Ha! I bet they loved that.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m sure they did,” said Cal, deciding not to pursue the line of enquiry that was currently presenting itself, and to focus on more pressing matters, instead. “So, Nine and that other guy?” he said.
“Gone,” said Two, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. “Lost to the Void, along with several others. We are fortunate we had Carver Prime’s early-warning alarm system, or we would all have met the same fate.”
“Right. And where is this Carver Prime?” Cal asked. “When do I get to meet the head honcho?”
“Newbies don’t meet Carver Prime,” Two said.
“But—”
“Newbies don’t meet Carver Prime.”
“OK, see here’s the thing, Number Two – you guys abducted me. You swooped in, froze time or whatever. That was you, right? The time thing?”
Two confirmed it with a nod.
“Right. You froze time, took me away, showed me all… you know, me, and then almost got me killed,” Cal said. “I think the least you can do is let me see the boss.”
“Impossible. And even if it were, Carver Prime is currently engaged elsewhere, and therefore unavailable."
Cal shrugged. “OK. Then I’ll be outside until he gets back.”
Two’s staff caught Cal across the back of the legs, dropping him to his knees. Cal tried to stand, but the wooden pole was suddenly pressed across his throat from behind.
“Now listen to me,” Two growled. “You may have thought you were something special back in your own universe. No doubt you thought you were some unique snowflake. The one and only Cal Carver, no one else quite like you.”
Carver Two’s voice became an angry hiss. “But that’s not true. You’re not special, Cal. Not here. Hell, you’re not even Cal here. You’re Ninety-Nine. A number, nothing more.”
He removed the staff from across Cal’s throat and shoved him forwards with his foot. Cal tried to roll back to his feet in what he thought would be a really impressive way, but the wall was too close and he ended up propped against it, mostly upside-down. He flopped sideways and got to his feet the old-fashioned way.
“Good pep talk,” Cal said, rubbing his throat.
“Always with the jokes!” Two spat. “Jesus, we really are insufferable sometimes.”
“Hey, speak for yourself,” said Cal. “I’m roguishly charming. Or charmingly roguish. One of them.”
Carver Two gripped his staff with both hands, then sighed and propped it against the wall. “Forgive me. I’m taking the loss of the other Carvers hard. Every one we lose, I take as a personal failure. I should have r
eacted more quickly.” He exhaled slowly through his nose, shook his head, then pulled himself together.
“The fact is, Ninety-Nine, hundreds of billions – hundreds of trillions – of people will die if Ikumordo is allowed to consume the Earths. More than that, even. An infinite number more.”
“I’m assuming we’re going to kick all his many butts back to wherever he came from?” said Cal.
“Actually, he only has one butt. Metaphorically speaking. Ikumordo is not like you or I,” said Two.
Cal nodded. “He’s a big weird space thing.”
“He exists across all dimensions at once,” Carver Two explained. “While each universe has its own Cal Carver – its own Ghostbusters, its own everyone – there is only one Ikumordo, existing across all dimensions at once.”
“Right,” said Cal. “Gotcha.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Not in the slightest,” Cal admitted. “But keep going and I’ll catch up.”
“From what we have been able to piece together, Ikumordo is a transdimensional entity existing in all universes simultaneously. If he moves left here, then he moves left in an infinite number of other realities. If he turns purple somewhere, he turns purple everywhere else, too.”
“So they’re all connected?”
“Not connected. One,” said Carver Two. “One single being, virtually unstoppable.”
“Virtually?”
Carver Two placed his hands behind his back and began to pace. The pod wasn’t big, so he only made it a couple of steps before having to turn around again. “There are rumors of a weapon of some kind in the Void. Something that is said to have the power to stop Ikumodo. Unfortunately, no one has ever been able to find it. No one has been reckless enough to even try.”
Cal clicked his fingers. “Aha. And that’s why you wanted me here? You want me to go into the Void and get your gun, or whatever.”
“Hmm? No. No, nothing like that,” said Carver Two. “Ikumordo, from what we can gather, is a sentient being with the capacity for reason. We would like to make a deal with it, and we need you to make our offer.”
Cal’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Me? Why me?”
“Because Carver Prime thinks it would be unfair to make the offer without consulting you first,” said Two. “You see, in return for leaving the other Earths alone, we wish to offer Ikumordo your universe.”
“My…?”
“Universe.”
“Yes. Yes, I thought that’s what you said.” Cal sucked air in through his teeth. “That’s a bit forward, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve only just met, and you’re asking me to sacrifice the entire universe for you. That’s, like, third date conversation. Second, tops.”
“We do not ask it lightly,” said Carver Two. “And I’m not asking you to do it for me. I’m asking you to do it for everyone.”
“Everyone except the people living in my universe,” said Cal.
“Your Earth, from my understanding, is almost dead.”
“The Earth, maybe, but what about everywhere else?” Cal asked. Two looked taken aback, as if this hadn’t even occurred to him.
“What about them? Their sacrifice may well save alternate versions of their own world at a later date, too. You think Earth is the first planet Ikumordo has consumed? It will feed, but it’ll get hungry again, and then who knows who’s next? If we give it a whole universe, though, maybe that’ll be the end of it.”
Cal tucked his hands into his back pockets and rocked on his heels, thinking this over. “How would I make the deal? Do we just phone him up?”
“Carver Fifty-One can open a door for you that will bring you to the heart of Ikumordo, where you will make your offering in person.”
Cal shrugged. “OK.”
“I understand it is a difficult decision,” began Two, before he realized what Cal had said. “What?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll go speak to the big weird space thing and try to work something out,” said Cal. “But I’m not going alone. I need a team.”
“You shall have one,” said Two. “You may take your pick of the Carvers.”
Cal grinned. “Thanks, but no. I wasn’t talking about that team.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Loren blinked in surprise. “Where did you come from?”
Cal sat on a Ghostbusters beanbag in front of the viewscreen, flashing what was perhaps his broadest ever grin at the others. A moment ago, they had all been frozen in place – or ‘Time Locked’ as Carver Two had referred to it – but now they were all alert and moving, and wondering where the fonk Cal had just appeared from.
“How did you get back on board?” Mech demanded. He had been flexing all five fingers of his now fully-reconstructed hand, but lowered it when he saw Cal.
“And how did you just appear?” asked Loren.
“And, like, what are you sitting on?” Miz added.
“Guys!” said Cal. “You won’t believe the last few hours I’ve had. Seriously.”
“What the fonk you talking about, ‘few hours’?” said Mech. “You been gone less than fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, no, you’ve been frozen in time. Long story, which I can’t explain. My point is, what I’ve been doing – I’ll be honest, I think you’re going to love it.” He pointed to Mech and his grin, somehow, became even wider. “Especially you. Without overstating things – Mech, this might just be the single greatest day of your life.”
“What the fonk are you talking about?” said Mech, but Cal was already on his feet, brushing past him and beckoning the others to follow him into the corridor. “Come on, come and see. Splurt!”
Splurt swung down from the pipework, flipped in the air, and landed on Cal’s shoulder. He perched there like a parrot made of jello, wobbling unsteadily as Cal practically skipped over to the hatch control button, then turned.
“Kevin, you there?”
“Always, sir.”
“You remember that recording thing you did earlier, when you took a photo of our faces?”
“Where you all thought you were going to die? Yes, sir. I shall never forget it. It is etched forever in my databanks.”
“Right, OK, can you do another one when I put down the ramp? Get everyone’s faces. Especially Mech.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Excellent!” Cal said, cackling behind his hand like a cartoon villain. “Mech, Loren, Miz, Kevin, Splurt, there’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”
He bumped the ramp release button with his fist. The ramp hissed as the hydraulics released, revealing a group of a dozen or so variations of the same familiar face standing in a semi-circle outside.
Cal gestured towards them, like a gameshow host showing off today’s star prize. “Me! A whole lot of me!”
From somewhere on high, there came a brief flash. “Oh, good call, sir,” said Kevin. “Their expressions are even better than last time. This one’s a keeper.”
Mech closed his bottom jaw, which had dropped open. “What the fonk am I looking at?” he muttered.
“I know, right?!” Cal laughed. “Isn’t it just the greatest? Come on.”
He hurried down the ramp, about-turned, and hooked his arms over the shoulders of two other Carvers. One of them looked virtually identical to him, but with tribal neck tattoos and enough facial piercings to form the basis of a successful scrap metal business. The other was dangerously obese, riddled with acne, and blushed the moment he saw Loren come swaying down the ramp, one hand resting on the butt of her blaster pistol.
“Guys, this is some of the Carver Council. Some of the Carver Council, meet Space Team. Loren, Miz, Mech and this little guy’s Splurt.”
“Awfy guid tae mit ye,” said Eighty-Three, doing his fist-on-head salute. The others chimed in with greetings, too. They ranged from theatrical bows to nervous waves, with a lot of winking and finger guns going on in between.
Loren looked along the line and back again. “These are… They all… I mean…”
�
�Spit it oot, lassie,” said Eighty-Three. “Wiv no’ a’ day tae staun here bletherin’.”
“What did he say?” asked Miz.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Cal confessed.
“They all look like you,” said Loren. “I mean, most of them. I mean…” She looked to Mech for help. “What do I mean?”
“Who the fonk are they?” said Mech. “And where’d they come from?”
“They came from Earth,” said Cal. He jabbed a thumb in Eighty-Three’s direction. “Maybe Middle Earth in his case, but, yeah. They all come from the same place as me. More or less.”
“Are they clones?” Loren asked.
Miz sniffed the air. “Don’t smell like clones.”
“We’re from other dimensions,” said the chunky Cal, his face reddening even further when everyone turned to look at him. Like most of the others, he wore a badge. The number “69” was written on it. Cal wasn’t sure if it was his ID number, or just wishful thinking on the poor guy’s part.
“You have got to be fonking shizzing me,” said Mech. “I mean, I get the whole theory of alternate dimensions, different universes, whatever, but this… This shizz ain’t right.”
“By which you mean ‘This is the greatest thing that ever happened,’ right?” said Cal, savoring every moment. “Turns out, I’m not the only Cal Carver. I’m Carver Ninety-Nine.”
“Ninety-Nine?!” Mech spluttered. “So, there are ninety-eight more of you motherfonkers here? I’m getting back on the ship.”
“Yeah, not exactly ninety-eight,” said Cal. “A few died earlier.”
Mech flinched. “Shizz. You couldn’t have told me that two seconds ago, before I opened my mouth? Now I feel bad.”
“There weren’t ninety-eight others, anyway,” said Chunky Cal. “There were ninety-seven.”
Cal counted on his fingers, just briefly. “How does that work if I’m Ninety-Nine?”
“Wait, where are we?” asked Loren, looking around. “This isn’t Earth. Is it?”
Space Team: Return of the Dead Guy Page 6
