Max and the Multiverse, #1

by Zachry Wheeler

  “Subtlety, noun, defined as—”

  “Stop. It was a joke.”

  “And a cracking joke it was, Master.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Okay, enough of this, back to the matter at hand.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He tapped his chin and thought for a moment. “For the time being, can you shut down anything non-critical in order to save money?”

  “Sure. And if you like, I can place your citizenry on an indefinite hold until you return. You will retain everything as is, including your residence and professional status. I can manage your estate in your absence.”

  “Wow, that’s generous.”

  “It is your right as a naturalized citizen of Earth.”

  Max chuckled. “This really is an awesome world.”

  “However, should you remain off-planet for a period longer than your life expectancy, then your personal effects will be transferred to a next of kin and your property will be made available for auction.”

  “Fair enough, I guess. What’s my life expectancy?”

  “The average human lifespan is 220 years.”

  Max dry heaved. “What?! Seriously?”

  “As serious as a stroke, assuming you don’t have one.”

  “Well slap my ass and praise modern medicine.”

  “I’m sorry, I cannot comply. I can, however, put you in contact with a local dominatrix.”

  “Uh ...”

  A few awkward moments passed.

  “One more thing, sir, we need to seek accommodations for Ross.”

  “Meow,” Ross said, irritated that it took this long to consider his needs.

  “Damn, that’s right. Um ...” Max paced around the living room with both hands atop his head, trying to will a solution from thin air. “What do most people do?”

  “Many people hire a long-term pet sitter, which you cannot afford. Some place their pets in extended boarding facilities, which you cannot afford. There are also robotic assistants, which you really cannot afford. Fortunately, the UTC does allow travelers to bring their pets with them for a small fee.”

  Max clapped his hands. “Done! Let’s do that. Ross, you’re coming with me to Mars.”

  “Meow,” Ross said in protest.

  “However, I must inform—”

  “No time, we have a plan, let’s get a move on.” Max darted into the bedroom to gather essentials. After spinning around with no discernible strategy, he stopped, refocused, then proceeded to the closet. He nabbed a backpack and rummaged through drawers and hangers for a few changes of clothes. “Veronica, call a ride for me.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  Max zipped up a small pile of stylistic nonsense, slung the pack over his shoulder, and ran into the bathroom.

  “The auto-cab will be here in five minutes.”

  “Thank you, Vee.” He grabbed some important-looking grooming tools and stuffed them into a side pocket. “What else do I need for a trip like this? Money? Keys? Wallet?”

  “I am not familiar with these terms.”

  “Oh, um, how do I pay for things and how do I get into my house?”

  “Your credit account and property access are controlled via retinal scan.”

  “Well okay then.” Max nodded and jogged back to the living room. “Ah yes, Ross. I need a carrier for Ross.”

  “Meow,” Ross said from inside a sleek carrier beside the door.

  “I have already seen to him,” Veronica said with an uptick of satisfaction.

  “Excellent. Does he have all his shots and travel papers?”

  “I am not familiar with these terms.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Does he need anything in order to travel?”

  “No. But, there is a necessary protocol.”

  “No time, I’ll figure it out when I get there.” Max chugged the last half of the espresso and plunked the empty pot onto the coffee table. “Can I get one of those to go?”

  “Certainly.”

  The table hummed for a few seconds before expelling a cup of steaming espresso in a cool-grip travel container. “Perfect. Oh, phone, I need my phone.”

  “Your communications device is on your bedside table.”

  Max raced into the bedroom, scooped the comdev from the table, and slipped it into his pocket. Rushing back to the living room, he swiped the espresso from the coffee table and snatched Ross’s carrier.

  “Meow,” Ross said, annoyed by the sudden jolt.

  The auto-cab’s arrival pinged overhead.

  “Your auto-cab is here, Master. Please have a safe trip.”

  “Thank you so much, Veronica. You have been a huge help, you sexy devil.”

  Veronica let out a shy giggle. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to contact me.”

  “Will do, my sweet.”

  “Meow,” Ross said, disgusted by the sentiment.

  Max opened the door, slipped outside, and slammed it shut. Moments later, the door chimed and reopened. Max leaned his head inside the doorframe.

  “Okay, the retina thing is really cool,” Max said in a hurried voice. “But, there’s nobody driving the cab.”

  “That is why they call it an auto-cab,” Veronica said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Oh.” Max grimaced and bowed his head. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Ross, please look after him.”

  “Meow,” Ross said as the door closed.

  * * *

  Inside the Astral Tear, Zoey and Perra awaited their first glasses of authentic Europan water, fresh from the source. The famous water bar sat atop the upper tier of the Europa Center. Its immense dome ceiling offered an unobstructed view of Jupiter’s colorful mosaic. Strips of beige, coupled with the churning red eye, bathed the bar in earthy tones. Perra surveyed the room with a slow visual sweep, studying its unique circular architecture. An enticing collection of deep blue furniture with silvery accents rested atop a bright white floor. Every object radiated opulence, from the plush booths to the angular bar. Ice sculptures backlit with aqua green lights shed droplets of sparkling water. Waitstaff in dark gray attire glided around the room as they tended to posh patrons. A charming playlist of soft jazz completed an aura of luxurious comfort. As fortuitous VIP guests, Zoey and Perra enjoyed an elevated booth overlooking the stark Europan landscape.

  “I am the luckiest girl in the ‘verse,” Perra said, looking out over the arctic canvas. She reached across the cloudy white table and took Zoey’s hand into her own. “What did I ever do to find someone like you?”

  “You were just being you.” Zoey stretched her lips into a doting smile. “I could not help but fall in love with you.” She squeezed Perra’s hand and lifted it for a gentle kiss.

  “You know, being here makes me wonder what our families are doing right now.”

  “Psh, who knows, probably complaining about the Korogars.”

  “And here we sit, masters of the universe, far, far away from that cesspool of a planet.”

  “Cheers to that.”

  They clinked their glasses of complimentary surface melt.

  * * *

  The Mulgawat planet of Ursa Major spawned a variety of curious creatures, including the Mulgawat humanoids to which Zoey and Perra belonged. The planet, one of seven, revolved around a yellow dwarf star similar to Earth’s Sun. The innermost five were rocky planets with Mulgawat and Korogar in fourth and fifth positions.

  As sibling planets, they shared a wealth of similarities. Both spawned complex life forms that included sentient humanoids and both reached the technological capacity of space travel at nearly the same time, a feat so improbable that stories of their mutual discoveries had become legend throughout the supercluster. One popular tale involved two exploration teams, one from Mulgawat and the other from Korogar, who passed each other in space on their ways to explore each other’s planet. According to folklore, they offered each other signs of peace, but unknowingly threw signs of vulgar disrespect in the opposing culture. This unfortunate
lost-in-translation moment ignited an epic feud that lasted for eons, or so the legend goes.

  Each civilization fed their population a constant stream of nasty propaganda, erecting an impassible virtual wall of disgust. They threatened each other with wars that never materialized. The two planets bickered over the fence like elderly neighbors battling over differing political views. Hundreds of generations quibbled and quarreled before reaching a lasting accord, coming via the simultaneous emergence of two opposing peacemakers. As the societies merged, a move hailed by progressives and reviled by traditionalists, most citizens retained the positives while dispensing with the negatives. As a result, Korish became the preferred language of both worlds. Mulgic, with a high-pitched nasal whine similar to a New York trophy wife, sent countless Korogars into involuntary seizures. Food became Mulgawat’s lasting contribution to Korogar. Before the unification, Korogar ranked third for the worst food in the Virgo Supercluster, just behind England and the Death Pits of Goromesh.

  Zoey and Perra grew up on Mulgawat, a world similar to Earth in terms of size, composition, gravity, and orbital cycle. It contained an abundance of nitrogen, oxygen, and liquid water. Ergo, its colorful creatures evolved in a similar fashion. The Mulgawats mirrored Earthlings with a few notable differences, the most obvious being skin color. Due to a veritable cornucopia of orange produce, the Mulgawats developed an orange pigmentation in various shades of pleasantry. Zoey’s sunburst complexion stood in contrast to Perra’s creamy tone. Most Mulgawats carried lighter hues on the face that deepened around the neck and hairline. Their limbs, bones, hair, and muscle structures also mirrored Earthlings. Other notable differences included curvaceous brows, prominent eyes, dark blue lips, and matte blue scales that covered the upper arms, shoulders, and portions of the neck.

  Zoey and Perra met each other in the Mulgawat equivalent of college and fell in love with each other’s complete hatred of Mulgawat. After graduation, they bid farewell to their families and hopped a shuttle to the next galactic quadrant, never to return. Zoey’s advanced degree in volatile dance allowed her to work as a zero-gravity cage fighter. (Mulgawats were well-known for their resilience.) While Zoey fought dupes for credits, Perra applied her engineering degree at an exotic vessel repair port, cementing her status as a gifted mechanic. Zoey’s reputation as a fierce yet sophisticated fighter earned her an invitation to work at the renowned Precious Cargo Delivery Service, a parcel company specializing in the transportation of high-value, high-target objects. Paired with her talented grease monkey lover, Zoey climbed the ranks to become one of the most feared and respected couriers in the business. As they said, The Omen cometh.

  * * *

  “Good evening madams,” a swanky waiter said as he glided up to the booth.

  “And a very good evening it is,” Perra said.

  “A bottle of our finest oceanic water from the northern pole region.” The waiter rested the deep blue bottle atop his sleeve with its white label facing up. “My personal favorite.”

  Zoey examined the bottle and offered a slight nod of approval. With a deft hand, the waiter poured a dollop of water into each of two crystal flute glasses, then lowered the bottle onto a silvery plate in the center of the table.

  “Enjoy, madams. My name is Neroci. Please beckon me if you need further assistance.”

  “Thank you, Neroci,” Zoey said.

  The waiter bowed and floated away from the booth.

  Perra lifted her glass and studied the liquid inside. “I cannot believe that I am actually holding this.”

  “A toast,” Zoey said, lifting her glass. “To us.”

  “To a wonderful life together.”

  They clinked glasses and traded refined smiles.

  With a delicate tip of her glass, Perra poured a small amount of Europan water into her mouth. After a moment of contemplation, her taste buds secured their prize. Her eyes closed under the weight of pure bliss, allowing a groan of pleasure to rumble inside her chest. A gasp of satisfaction escaped her lungs before returning the glass to the table. Zoey, sporting a sensuous smile after her own first sip, held the rim of her glass just beneath her nose.

  “Superb would be an understatement,” Perra said. “The bar for pleasure has just been raised to an unreasonable height. Looks like we have to move here now.”

  They shared a muted laugh.

  “What is that aroma?” Zoey said, savoring a series of long inhales. “It reminds me of ... sweet barron fruit, ripe sting weed, a little bit of thannon hock ... mmm.”

  Perra lifted the bottle and studied the rear label. “Okay, it says here that Europa’s northern pole oceanic water owes its unique flavor to hundreds of species of probiotic bacteria. Hmm, that’s a fun fact. The bacteria aggressively filter their habitat, removing any foreign contaminant, even inert soil. The resulting cocktail of purified water and probiotic organisms creates an astonishing level of cleanliness. The bacteria themselves carry a pleasant taste signature, often described as the essence of light-skinned fruit, similar to ripe pears, fresh green apples, and table grapes. Whatever those are, they sound delicious.”

  “Wow, impressive.” Zoey took another sensual sip.

  “Oh, and listen to this. The bacteria perform their remarkable feat only in the dark reaches of Europa’s subterranean oceans. For reasons still unknown, the bacteria will not perform if removed from the moon’s interior.”

  “No wonder this place is so exclusive.”

  Neroci returned holding a small white plate filled with tiny black pearls. With a gracious presentation, he lowered the plate to the center of the table and placed two small silver spoons on either side. “Some of Earth’s finest Caspian beluga caviar, compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar.”

  “Oh my,” Perra said with a breathy exhale.

  “Well there’s a guy deceived by his own desire,” Zoey said, igniting a polite chuckle between her and Perra.

  Neroci grinned without moving a single non-grinning muscle.

  Zoey nodded with grace. “Please thank him anyway and gift him any drink on us.”

  “Very well, madam.” He bowed and whisked away.

  They filled each spoon with a small amount of black gold and clinked the edges together.

  “Cheers, part two,” Zoey said.

  Perra grinned as they slipped the pricy caviar onto their tongues. Moans of pleasure spilled from the booth, followed by fluttering breaths and twitching eyelids.

  “I think you’re right,” Zoey said. “Let’s start looking at Europa real estate.”

  They snickered with delight and batted eyes at each other.

  “So why respond to that guy with a drink?” Perra said. “Won’t that give him the wrong impression?”

  “No, it gives exactly the right impression. Acceptance without return is acceptance. Rejection with or without return is rejection. Acceptance with return is disinterested appreciation.”

  The angle of their booth gave Perra a peripheral view of the bar. She scanned the long stretch of glassy stools, eyeing each patron before settling upon a gallant gentleman at the end. He wore a silken black blazer atop a stony gray dress shirt and matching slacks. Polished crimson boots reflected streaks of red across the aqua blue pillars beneath the bar. His leafy green skin, speckled neck, and cropped yellow hair seemed secondary to his haunting sapphire eyes, the very eyes that stared back at Perra. He gave a slight nod. Perra returned the gesture with a polite wave.

  “He seems like a pleasant fellow,” Perra said. “Quite dapper.”

  Zoey turned to send her kind greetings, only to have the appreciation stripped from her face. The man stared her down with an obvious contempt, his eyes piercing hers through a meaty brow. Zoey swung her gaze back to the table. “Shit.”

  CHAPTER 6

  The auto-cab ride to the train station uncovered an exotic selection of modern, angular homes with spotless exteriors and flawless landscapes. Teams of autonomous robots managed gardens and tended to pristine parks, each
color-coordinated to denote their current assignments. Some even waved as Max passed by. A flock of personal conveyance vehicles, like the auto-cab he occupied, glided in perfect silence upon strips of magnetic pavement. Transit shuttles resembling silvery cigars sailed overhead, delivering who knows whom to who knows where. Max squinted at the approaching city center, as if gazing upon a mirage. Albuquerque’s dingy downtown had repainted itself with an immaculate brush. Tidy streets with artistic virtue lifted walls of glass that glistened in the sunlight. For once, the city seemed proud to be itself.

  The auto-cab swerved into a large roundabout and slowed to a stop in front of the train station entrance. The passenger door slid open, filling the cabin with a gentle, odorless breeze. The auto-cab AI, a pleasant chap named Kevin, bid Max a courteous farewell. With backpack in one hand and Ross in the other, Max stepped outside onto the bustling sidewalk. The deafening silence made its presence known, even while standing in front of a busy train station in the middle of downtown. The auto-cab floated away, leaving Max to contemplate the eerie absence of everyday annoyances. No rumbling engines, no blasting horns, no rubber tires thumping pavement, just the dull murmurs of pattering feet and cordial conversation.

  Max absorbed his polished new reality with an intense fascination, turning him into a walking irritation. His beguiled brain locked onto every new item it encountered. Before long, he embodied the wandering do-nothing with no consideration for his immediate environment (also known as an inconsiderate jackass). Even before setting foot on the train, he managed to alienate every person within a 10-foot radius. He held up long lines with idiotic questions, stopped in the middle of busy walkways to check his comdev, and pestered strangers for obvious directions that one could obtain by looking at the nearest blinking sign. Despite his boorish approach, he managed to catch the Southwestern maglev train bound for the Houston Spaceport.

  The blurred Texas landscape zipped by Max’s window. Thin strips of brown and green flickered over each other like a glitched television screen. Distant clouds and structures soldiered across the horizon as if a mere stone’s throw away. Every few minutes, Max gripped fixtures inside the train in order to reaffirm the sensation of motion. At the halfway mark, he attempted to purchase a spaceport ticket via his comdev. The bumbling effort, like a toddler trying to order cable service, earned a chorus of sighs and annoyed glances from his fellow travelers. His overstimulated gray matter declared the task futile and powered down for some much-needed rest and relaxation, leaving Max to gawk the passing landscape.