“At least my breath doesn't make dogs pass out.” Spence struggled not to hurl himself at Plibix and beat him to a bloody handbag. He knew he needed to get control of the situation, but before he could do that he needed to figure out what the situation was. “So, would you like to tell me what that was all about?”
“All right, Spence, but let's start at the beginning. Here's the way it is. This whole mess is Ktonga's fault. Or should I say Parapara's, since she was taking orders from him.”
“But Parapara was the head of SpaceOp. She was trying to overthrow Ktonga and the Space Intelligence Service.”
“She wanted to do away with the Service, yes, but not the Admiral. They were a team and he became her sometime lover. Their goal was to undermine a legitimate if somewhat ineffectual arm of the elected government and replace it with a super-secret organization that owed allegiance to no one but its shadowy commanders. SpaceOp was a tyrant's wet dream. Ktonga was in bed with that dream and Lindsey Parapara had crawled in next to him and pulled the covers up over the both of them. She reported to him and he reported only to his conscience, which he had conveniently misplaced back during the Talianta campaign.”
Thwock!
“Are you telling me that he blew up Goldmeadow? And himself?”
“Well, now that is a bit of a mystery.” Pilbix worked a gray-green scrap of something rotten from between his dagger-like teeth. And ate it. “As near as I can figure, Ktonga and Parapara hadn't figured on the Leonardoin troubles undermining the very foundations of the galaxy. I'm guessing that they weren't quite able to coordinate a response to the news that an unspeakably alien and hyper-advanced elder race had decided they were going to mess with us. It's hard to maintain command and control when you're fighting both sides of secret war, you know. So mistakes were made, although I wouldn't necessarily assume that Ktonga was dead. That old man is as slippery as a seed.”
Thwock.
“You'd think the Leonardoins’ arms would get tired,” said Pilbix. “But then I supposed they're rather upset that their gyro pistols aren't much use against the shields here.”
“I'm confused,” said Spence, settling onto a chair. “Now I don't even know whose side I'm on.” He pressed his face into his hands, careful not to let the tips of his fingers touch the plate on top of his head.
“Ah, but you must first be on your own side,” said the dragon, “before you can make any outside alliances.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Spence looked up. “So how come you show up now, spouting these gems of wisdom? We ... I would've liked to have known some of this stuff weeks ago, or even yesterday.”
“I have only just recently come to understand what Ktonga and Parapara were about. And to be truthful, some of what I've just said is conjecture. But I have been trying to warn you, Spence. Back on MacDougall II...”
“Oh, right. That. Do you know how much time we wasted trying to decipher what you said? ‘Some realities are true, while others are not. Nothing is random and nothing is an accident. Master intelligence. Scrambled eggs.’ What was that all about?”
Plibix looked hurt. “I was trying my best, but at that moment I was getting squeezed by a dimensional shift. As the dimensions begin to slide into one another, they close off the interdimensional folds through which dragonkind can travel. You know what happens if I get caught between collapsing dimensions?”
“No,” admitted Spence.
“It isn't pretty. They'd be picking my brains off rooftops in the twelfth dimension and the spatter of my Kirilian aura would make the seventh look an explosion in a paint factory.” He shuddered.
“You'd be sort of like scrambled eggs.”
“That isn't funny.” His reptilian eyes narrowed. “You don't realize how hard it's been to get back to you. The chances I've taken. Everything is different between the dimensions now. So many of the folds have been squashed into a single point of space-time. Others have pulled loose and point into nothingness. I kept circling around, sliding through the few remaining folds, only to hit a dead end. And every so often I would meet up with that Leonardoin high priest and have to make a run for it. Listen.” Plibix put a hand to his ear. “You hear that?”
Spence strained against the silence. “I don't hear anything.”
“Exactly. They've stopped throwing rocks.”
“Maybe they ran out.”
“Of rocks?” He shook his head. “Time is short, Spence. You asked about the egg. I still have it, you know. I've been protecting it.”
“That's good. Carol said this all started with the egg.”
“Oh Carol,” he said with a wave of his tail. “She does like the sound of her own voice, you know. No offense,” he hastened to add. “Actually, the egg is important, but it's not the beginning of the story. It's the end.”
“You know what it's for?”
“I have a theory.” He reached into his sidesack and pulled out the glittering golden egg, inlaid with tiny rubies and sapphires. “Among other things, the egg is the source of enormous power. Think of it as a kind of battery. The source of its power it located in one of the coiled dimensions, I think the twenty-fifth. But what good is a battery by itself?”
“I have a feeling you're going to tell me.”
“Parapara gave us this egg. Where did she get it? Maybe from the officer who discovered the whole Leonardoin problem in the first place. I guessing that it came from right here on this planet. Remember that Parapara said that we must handle the egg carefully and never, never open it? Well, once I realized that she was part of the conspiracy with Ktonga, I thought to myself, ‘Why not?'” He smiled his toothy smile. “She wasn't on my side, so why should I pay any attention to her anymore?” Plibix caressed the top of the egg. “As you can see, it has this tiny fastener and a hinge....”
The dragon flipped it open. Inside the egg was a glowing metal ovoid that would have been impossible to describe if he hadn't just seen an object made out of the very same material. Just looking at it made his vision blur. It seemed to pulse and boil beneath a surface that had a burnished metallic sheen like silver fire.
“It looks molten,” said the dragon, “but it's just warm. Go ahead, touch it.”
“No thanks.” Spence was not conscious of his hand slipping into his pocket until he was touching the Guardians’ gateway.
Outside the shelter, Spence hear the roar of a dropship engine. He realized then why the Leonardoins had stopped throwing rocks.
“Sound like your ride is here, Spence,” said Plibix softly. “You're done with all of this now. I know that's what you really wanted. So you're not going to need the gateway.”
Spence closed his prosthetic hand around it but said nothing.
“I was watching you just before I stepped through the fold. I saw you find it. I knew you wouldn't destroy it. You were meant to come here, Spence. Nothing is random and nothing is an accident, remember? For instance, consider that plate in your head. It's an interface for the gateway. Normally a human wouldn't be able to make use of it; that's dragon work. But Parapara had you altered as a backup, in case anything happened to me. One or the other of us was supposed to open an escape route to another dimension for her and Ktonga in case things went terribly wrong here. But why would we do that now? They're not on our side, Spence. So if you don't mind handing it over, you can be on your way.”
The dragon held out his other hand, his claws curled over his scaly palm. “With the egg to power the gateway, I can reconstruct the folds, even make new dimensions, if I want.” Plibix waved his fingers.
“Commander Spencer!” called an amplified voice from outside the shelter. “Are you all right in there? Someone has tampered with the security codes. Commander Spencer, open up!”
Spence slipped the glowing gateway from his pocket and showed it to Plibix. The dragon breathed in sharply and grabbed for it, but Spence kicked his legs from under him and they both sprawled to the floor of the shelter. The gateway and the egg danced out of reach. Plibix rolled away, whi
pping his tail across Spence's face, raising a welt that stung like a hot needles at the same time that Spence lashed out with his prosthetic leg, catching the dragon in the stomach and sending him skittering across the room.
As Spence scrabbled toward the glowing Guardian artifacts, he saw to his astonishment that the gateway was entwining itself lovingly around the egg. He snatched them up, turned and saw the dragon gathering himself for another charge.
It was then that he remembered what Carol had told him, that he would have to migrate up the shells of the universe.
“Carol!” he cried. With the plate in the top of his head burning like the sun, he stepped through a fold in Reality.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter 12: Picking a God's Nose
by Dean Wesley Smith
The green grass meadow, the flowing blue water of a small stream, the fresh-smelling breeze through tall pine trees just wasn't what Spencer expected to find on the other side of the fold in the universe. Of course, he had no idea what he had expected would be on the other side of a fold.
Maybe he wanted Carol to be there waiting for him.
Or Parapara. Or a dozen Paras.
He glanced quickly around, expecting Plibix to appear at any moment, ready to beat him to a pulp.
Nothing but the branches on the trees moved in the slight breeze.
No dragon, no wife, no dwarf, nobody.
The plate in the back of his head had stopped throbbing and heating up and cooling down like a defective burner on a stove. In his right hand, his good hand, the egg and the twisted metal had formed into a small golden ball that seemed to radiate a sense of comfort and power at the same time.
He had no idea what to do with it, or how many people in all the dimensions wanted it. As he stared at the golden ball, wondering just what he should do next, the thing suddenly melted like a cheap piece of candy and was absorbed by his skin.
“No you don't!” he shouted, shaking his hand, sending stabbing pains through his injured arm as he tried to get what was left off of him.
No luck.
After a moment, the combined remains of the egg and the twisted metal had been completely absorbed into his system.
He stood there, staring in disbelief at his empty hand. “This can't be good.”
His words drifted off with the wind.
He waited for something to happen.
Anything.
He held his breath.
Then after thirty seconds he figured that holding his breath wasn't a good plan and let out a huge sigh.
“Think, you idiot,” he said to himself.
All he could think about was how dead he was going to be. Taking into his system something this powerful had to have a few fairly large side affects. More hallucinations? Maybe drug-like highs? Maybe enhanced sexual ability?
He waited, trying to hold his panic down to humming level, standing there in the middle of the meadow, the wind blowing softly past him.
Nothing happened.
The meadow didn't turn purple and begin to roll. The trees didn't grow big teeth and spit toothpicks. The stream didn't turn into a big snake. The grass of the meadow still felt solid under his feet.
Almost disappointing. Almost.
Two of what were supposed to be the most powerful objects in the universe had just joined like a bad marriage and decided to take up housekeeping in his body. Never, in any imagining, could he have seen this coming.
He stood there, waiting for his body to explode, for all the folds of space to smash in on him like a pile of ancient draperies.
Nothing.
It sure would be nice for a user's manual to appear in his mind.
Nope.
Nothing.
Something had to happen. A person didn't just absorb that much power and then have nothing happen.
Nothing happened.
He waited a good five minutes, slowly turning and studying the meadow around him.
The water flowed, the breeze blew, he kept breathing.
Not much else. He felt normal, and from what he could see of his body, he looked normal.
After the running battle with the big blue guys, and the fight with the dragon, this seemed wrong, as if he was missing something.
Then he realized his arm didn't hurt any more. The wound had healed completely. He felt young, full of energy. Ready to go, take on the entire universe.
Okay, now he had something. Finally. A change.
Around him, the meadow stayed solidly in place, no shifting reality, no merging dimensions, no strange purple humanoids doing war chants and attacking him.
Nothing.
“So this is what migrating up the shells of the universe looks like.”
He wasn't sure if he expected that statement to change anything either. It didn't. He just stood there feeling alive and ready to go. He just didn't know where or how.
He started off in one random direction and after a few steps, stopped because walking seemed pointless. For a start, he didn't know where he was, what dimension he was even in, or what planet in what dimension. Para had mentioned many dimensions, the dragon had mentioned he thought the egg had a power source up on dimension twenty-five.
Spencer had thought the universe was a pretty big place before all this.
He made himself take a deep breath and think back over what had joined to be inside him. The dragon had thought the egg, or more accurately, the ball inside the egg, was a power source for the twisted metal without any ends or sides.
And the Paras had told him that the metal was a gateway to all the dimensions for her people and that it needed to be destroyed. And from the way the egg and the metal acted, they had been made for each other, of that he had no doubt.
And they seemed to like him as a walking condo. But now that he had both inside his body, he had a hunch he had a very large target painted on his back. A multi-dimensional target with more than enough beings willing to take what he had.
Then something the dragon said echoed. Nothing is an accident and nothing is random.
Had he been intended to get both of these things together and take them? Take them where? Who could be directing that kind of plan? Spencer doubted that the good old Admiral Ktonga knew about this level of stuff.
Spencer put his hand up to the back of his head where the plastic plate had been-the one the dragon had said was put there so he could get near the metal strip.
The plate was gone. It now felt like he had a skull and hair and everything was back in place. Thank you, little gold ball. One less thing to worry about.
He tapped his false left arm. Still false. Too bad.
At least he had his head back, and one good arm that was healed as well.
But he was still getting nowhere in what he was supposed to do next, where he was supposed to go next.
Was the very fate of the universe still in doubt? Now that he had the joined egg and strip, could he stop that little problem?
Or had he made it worse?
He needed some answers. And standing in the middle of a meadow on some strange world, pleasant as it was, just wasn't going to get him those answers.
He looked around. Which way should he go?
A thought crawled into his mind like a shouted suggestion from the back of a crowded room. “Why not have the answers come to you?”
“Yeah,” he said out loud. “Why not? Worth a try.”
He took a deep breath and then yelled into the wind, “Carol! Come to me!”
The air rippled for a moment and then Carol appeared about ten feet from him, totally nude and dripping wet. Shampoo coated her hair and she had a sonic shaver in one hand and a leg stuck up in the air, like it had been braced against something while she shaved her legs.
She toppled forward onto the grass like a pink lawn-Flamingo in a slight wind. She tried to catch herself, but all that was cause her to roll over onto her back and her legs to splay upward and out.
He
couldn't help but watch. She was a great-looking woman with a great body. Then, the fake Patsy's remarks about his lovemaking came back to him and he wondered what Carol thought of his abilities.
She scrambled to her feet, staring around her, then at him, clearly angry and embarrassed. “Give me some warning next time, would you?”
“Sorry,” he said.
“Yeah, I'll bet you are. You are always trying to crawl into the shower with me.”
He waved off her comments before he could think back to those good times.
“So where are we?” she asked. “And you look different somehow. Older. And what new spy trick did you use to get me here?”
“I'm not sure I'm not dreaming.”
“Great,” Carol said in that way that told him he was about to get yelled at, “I'm dripping wet and getting cold and you're not sure you're not dreaming.”
She tried to use her hands to brush what was left of the water and the soap out of her hair.
Spencer stared at her, wondering why she looked so damned good, besides the wet body and total nudity. “What did you mean I should migrate up the shells of the universe?”
She paused and looked at him like he had lost his mind. “I never said anything like that.”
Suddenly her words from a moment before reached his mind. He looked older. And she certainly looked younger. She had mentioned that he was always trying to get into the shower with her. Present tense. Granted, he had done that a lot, right up until the birth of their first child.
And it was his fondest memory of her, those early years together.
He made himself stop and look at his wife. This wasn't the woman he knew. This was a younger version of her.
“So,” she said, “you want to tell me what the Admiral has you doing now and why this trick in yanking me from my shower?”
“I can't,” he said.
“Yeah, that secret stuff.” She shook her head in disgust.
He knew what he had to do before he really screwed up any timeline. He turned into the wind and shouted, “Return!”
The Omega Egg [A Fictionwise Round Robin Novel] Page 12
