I sighed and reached down into my backpack to grab it, wondering if there was anywhere in the galaxy that was safe when your best friend had his own teleporter—
Now, before we continue, I’d like to pause here a moment to talk to you about the contents of my backpack.
Assuming for a moment you’re a boy, you can probably already guess what was in there, but for those reading this who aren’t, a boy’s backpack is pretty much a dumping ground for all the things he doesn’t think he’ll get away with dumping in his bedroom. At any given moment, there could be a whole variety of things in there—army men, glue guns, comic books and, like… rocks. Just rocks. Really, anything is game.
Which is why it was with some surprise, then, that I reached my hand into my backpack, and began to pull out what can only be described as “girl stuff”.
Make-up bags. A compact mirror. School books. Pencil cases. Another, even larger make-up kit.
Oh, hey, look at that. We have the same backpack. What are the odds, huh?
It was Audrey’s.
Dex saw the items in my hand, did the math. He made a face. ‘Ooh crap…’
‘What? It’s fine. I’ll just bring it back to her tomorrow. It’s not a big deal, Dex.’
Dex held up his hands. ‘Okay, now don’t panic, Bif. But, uh, that orb I gave you? Well, let’s just say it may or may not have housed the ethereal body of my mortal enemy…’
‘WHAT?!’
I listened for the next five minutes as Dex relayed to me the vague and somewhat-murky details of how exactly he came into the possession of his nemesis’ “ethereal body”. Supposedly they’d crossed paths while on a job several years back, Dex and the guy—who he called “the Conductor” (even though, seriously, what a lame super-villain name)—quickly coming into conflict upon Dex’s discovery that the guy was on his way to the Rim to find a supposed mythical song, one whose power was such that, if wielded incorrectly, had the power to enslave entire galaxies.
Now, if you’re anything like I was at this point, you’re probably thinking—wait, what? And that’s a great question. Here’s how Dex laid it out to me:
‘You see, Bif, music is not just that thing you listen to when you’re looking to pass the time,’ he said, beginning now to pace my room, hands clasped neatly behind him like some college professor. ‘While Earth is admittedly still centuries away from discovering this fact, music is actually a disease. That’s right. And songs? Songs are the vectors that carry this disease along. Think of them like viruses. Ever heard a song on the radio and can’t get it out of your head? Or listened to a song so much that you became, and I quote “sick of it”? That’s the virus taking hold. Think of them like vampires, feeding off your emotional connection with the lyrics, the melody, et cetera.’ He paused a moment to pull an already-open beer from his jacket pocket. ‘But it’s not all bad. While a lot of these songs are “evil”, there are some that are okay—The Final Countdown, for example, or literally anything by Bon Jovi. Songs that don’t so much feed off your energy, but share it with the person listening, recycling it back and forth in a kind of feedback loop. They’re the type of timeless songs that stay good regardless of how many decades pass. And have you heard Livin’ on a Prayer, lately? Seriously, that shit’s the nuts.’ He thought it over a moment. ‘Then, of course, there’s your Justin Bieber, over-processed, recycled pop-type garbage. And you Earthlings wonder why your planet is so messed up lately? You’re all sick. Sick, I tells ya.’
‘And you’ve just been carrying this guy around in your pocket this whole time?’
He took another slurp of his beer. ‘That’s right. Well, until the other night, that is…’
He explained to me about the other night, him dumping the orb on me. Apparently, he’d been at a poker game down in the Gutter with some of Etaria’s more, shall we say, “unsavory characters”. When he’d lost all of his credits, he’d been forced to offer up the only other thing he had left—said thing being the orb housing his “greatest nemesis”. When he’d subsequently lost that too (and being the sore loser that he is), he’d quickly snatched the orb and teleported the hell out of there. Thus his drunken visit to my bedroom the other night.
‘So, wait,’ I said. ‘You’re telling me you used the trapped ethereal spirit of the galaxy’s most dangerous supervillain as a wagering chip?’
‘Honestly, Bif—you say that like it’s the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever done.’
‘Dex!’
‘Hey, it’s cool, Biffy-boy. Don’t get your oddly effeminate panties in a twist. We can fix this. This is totally fixable. All we got to do is get the orb back before your girlfriend opens it and unleashes him onto the galaxy, where he’ll almost certainly try to pick back up where he left off.’
I felt my body tense as the obvious dawned.
Audrey—she had my backpack. Which meant she also had the orb. If she were to open it and unleash this “Conductor” guy, she could be killed. And then she’d hate me forever.
Then, of course, there was the whole “end of the galaxy” thing to consider as well. Man, could this day get any worse?
‘But… we have to get over there!’
‘That’s the spirit, Bif. Let the adventure flow through you.’
I began to reach for my Translocator, but Dex swatted my hand away. ‘Uh-uh. If he’s loose already, he’ll sense the tear in space-time. Then we’d lose our one and only advantage.’
‘So what do we do?!’
‘Looks like we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.’ He put his hands on his hips and gave a hearty sigh. ‘Yep—I can definitely feel an adventure coming on. I can feel it down in my loins, Bif. This is going to be a good one, I can tell.’
I stared down at Audrey’s backpack on the floor by my bed.
I just hoped we weren’t already too late.
Dex Wexler: Space Detective (Chronicles of Bif Book 1) Page 16
