Dale Mettam

by The Pub at the Center of the Universe (retail) (epub)

  “Probably just a routine patrol,” Lu assured.

  “And they wouldn’t have F.R.B.’s.”

  “It was not a routine patrol, ma’am,” informed Sarge. “I can identify it.”

  “Who was it? Kirk asked, already dreading the answer.

  “Restive Pro.”

  Before he could react, Lu turned and pointed at a stairwell that led off the corridor they were in. “Follow that all the way to the top. That will take you to my father’s chambers. I’ll meet you there.”

  “But what about what the Y’lem said?”

  “If Pro knows we’re free, then she could raise the alarm, or worse, set a trap,” Lu replied over her shoulder. “This is the only way I can be sure she doesn’t get in your way.”

  Kirk watched helplessly as Lu leapt forward and raced down the hall. Within seconds her footsteps had passed beyond his hearing.

  He stood for a moment longer in the silence, looking at the stairwell.

  “Don’t worry, they say.” He said to himself. “The big evil bad guy that can snap you like a twig thinks you’re coming to kill him. That makes it easier for us, they say. He thinks you’ll come for him alone, but we’ll be with you, they say.”

  He looked down the corridor in the vain hope that his colleagues would suddenly appear again. But no one did.

  “We have the advantage, they say.” he said, taking the first step up.

  “You still have me,” said Casio.

  “And that’s a bonus?” Kirk answered.

  Twenty minutes of continuous climbing and Kirk finally collapsed on the stairs. The heat, his injuries from the building collapse, a lack of food, and general exhaustion finally caught up with him.

  You... you would think...” he gasped. “That a civilization that can... can menace the ... entire universe... would... would... have an elevator.”

  “They do,” said Casio.

  “What?”

  “However, I believe that Agent Pillah was trying to approach with some degree of stealth. Hence the alternate route.”

  Kirk rolled on his back. “Screw stealth. The guy knows I’m coming! The next floor, we go out and take the elevator.”

  “Twelve steps ahead is a floor exit,” said Casio.

  “However I would strongly advise against taking that route.”

  Kirk was already on his feet and pushing towards what he knew must be an easier way of progressing.

  “I am detecting what appears to be a guard frog in the chamber ahead.”

  “I think your translation program is slipping again, pal.” Kirk smiled as he mounted the twelfth step and exited the stairwell, coming face-to face with an eight foot tall, 1,600 pound, angry-looking frog.

  “Ribbit,” rumbled the frog in a way that Kirk realized could only be frightening when emitted from a 1,600 pound frog.

  “...Oh...” he said.

  Before Kirk could react, a huge tacky tongue burst from the frog’s mouth and slapped hard in his chest. With equally alarming speed he was jerked off his feet and found himself flying across the room towards the gaping maw of the frog. He could tell he would not fit in the mouth, but he had a good idea that this wouldn’t be a problem for long, once the frog began to mash down with those jaws.

  Kirk slammed into the lips of the frog, and he felt his chest and knees jar. Renewed pain shot through his body. The frog looked down and began to

  twist its tongue, trying to get at least part of its prey in its mouth.

  “Any suggestions would be useful around now, Casio!” wheezed Kirk.

  “What, now I’m an animal wrangler as well?”

  “You’ll be supper in a minute,” Kirk gasped, struggling to get his feet and hands wedged in some kind of position to prevent him from being pulled into the frog’s mouth. “And a while later, frog poop.”

  “They have very porous skins,” said the F.R.B. weekly.

  Kirk swung the sword he still held at the frog’s face, only for it to bounce off with such surprising force that he lost his grip and it flew across the room, landing with a clatter.

  “Probably not this breed.” gasped Kirk as the tongue squeezed tighter.

  “Porous, not soft, monkey boy!” said Casio.

  “They absorb water through their skins, but that doesn’t mean it also can’t be tough!”

  Kirk could feel that if this lasted much longer, he would likely pass out. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He strained down and pulled Casio from his belt.

  “What are you doing?” asked the F.R.B. suspiciously.

  “I have an idea,” winced Kirk as he felt his rib compressed. He pulled the F.R.B. around and thrust his arm forward so his hand and Casio were now deep in the frog’s mouth.

  “Look, I’m sorry Mr. Deighton, sir!” Casio panicked. “That monkey boy thing. Just the way I was programmed. Nothing personnel. Can’t we talk this over?”

  “For once could you just SHUT UP!”

  Kirk forced himself sideways, and as the frog’s tongue fought to bring him back to the center, he pushed off the lower jaw in the same direction until his arm was clear of the gapping mouth. He could just see around the lips and saw that his hand, and Casio were level with the top of the frog’s flat head. Kirk squeezed the nanoprobe release button and a gray sparkling exploded around the frogs eyes.

  With a twitch, the tongue released Kirk and he dropped to the floor. The frog staggered backward as Kirk rolled to the side.

  “Wha’ the bloody hell was that?” exclaimed the frog.

  “What did you do?” screamed Casio.

  “Nyah! Your little box just spoke! It’s voice is in me ‘ed.”

  “You put my nanoprobes in it?” Casio was incensed.

  “How else could I reason with him?”

  “Reason with him?” Casio sounded as if he would soon begin to emit sparks.

  “It’s her, actually,” said the frog.

  “Sorry,” said Kirk.

  “Name’s Ethel, by the way,” she continued.

  “It’s a 1,600 pound frog!” Casio sounded like he was close to some kind of overload. “And you used my nanoprobes!”

  “Well fighting her wasn’t working,” Kirk said.

  “And what about ‘Mr. Deighton, Sir’?”

  “That was before I knew you were about to abuse my probes!”

  “Okay, this’s very strange,” said Ethel. “A little disturbin’ actu’lly.”

  “Well there is a simple solution,” Kirk said, now walking calmly towards the wary frog.

  “Wha’s tha’ then?”

  “Simply stay clear of me,” Kirk said. “As long as you are more than twenty miles from me...”

  “Actually the effective range of the nanoprobes is only...” Casio interrupted.

  Kirk swiftly slapped the F.R.B. on his belt.

  “Twenty miles away and you’ll be out of range of my little box, and you can get your normal life.”

  “Wha’ if a just eat ya?”

  “There is a chance that my little box will get stuck inside you. Then you’ll have to deal with this forever.”

  As Ethel the frog considered this, there was a blood-curdling scream from behind Kirk. He spun and saw Toast hurtling towards him, hate in his eyes, curses spewing from his frothing lips.

  Before he could get close enough to attack Kirk, Ethel’s tongue shot out and snared him. Much smaller than Kirk now, Toast was yanked off his feet and sucked towards the mouth of the frog. With a solid snap the jaws closes and the frog swallowed Toast.

  “Tastes like chicken,” said Ethel.

  The frog gave a small burp and a shower of orange fur billowed across the room as Plaach came running into the room and stopped short.

  Before anyone could r
eact, Rubik came running around the corner and barreled into the now frozen Plaach, sending them both rolling across the floor.

  “Good!” said Ethel. “Seconds.”

  “Hold it!” shouted Kirk. “They’re my friends.”

  She looked down at Plaach and then Rubik.

  “Well, one of them is, and he needs the other one alive. I would consider it a personal favor to me if you would spare them.”

  Ethel seemed to consider this, the turned to Kirk.

  “Right, you owe me one,” said Ethel, inching towards him. “Twenty miles, y’ said?”

  Kirk nodded, yes.

  “I’m off for a short hop then. But a warn y’. Still here wh’n a get back, an a’ll eat y’ an’ risk a little box constipation.”

  They all nodded that was fine with them.

  “Now, if you boys’ll excuse me, I’m off t’ find me ol’ man.” With that she leapt for the stairs and quickly descended. As she went they could hear her calling ahead. “Dindale? Dinsdale? Momma’s comin’ ‘ome early an’ she wants some suga’! Dinsdale! Dinsdale! Dinsdale?”

  As the voice diminished down the stairwell Kirk turned to Rubik and Plaach as they managed to stand up.

  “Well, there’s something you don’t see every day.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Where’s Lu?” Rubik asked.

  “She found out Restive Pro is here,” said Kirk.

  “The assassin?” Plaach sounded both frightened and impressed.

  “The one from Kenturk?” Rubik just sounded frightened.

  Kirk nodded, yes.

  They stood silently. Each considering what they knew about both Lu and Pro.

  “So what’s next? asked Plaach finally. Despite everything, there was now a definite hint of eager anticipation in his tone.

  “You’re under arrest for the murder of Titan Security Officer Pobble,” Rubik said solemnly.

  “That was Toast,” said Plaach.

  “Well, at the very least you’re coming with me to help resolve the investigation.”

  “Hold on,” said Kirk. “We can’t take him with us.”

  “Oh go on,” Plaach pleaded.

  “Well I’m not letting him go now,” Rubik said. “I’ve traveled too far and at too great a cost to let him go without at least taking him back for a thorough investigation.”

  “Have you forgotten what we’re here to do?” Kirk asked in astonishment.

  “What are we here to do?” asked Plaach.

  “We aren’t here to do anything,” said Kirk to Plaach. “I’m here to find a missing Y’lem and free him. And I thought you...” He pointed at Rubik, “Were going to help me do that?”

  “I am. But I’m not letting my prisoner go now that I finally have him,” said Rubik.

  “How about we put him back in a cell until we’ve finished here?” Rubik said.

  A look of abject terror flashed across Plaach’s face.

  “That would take too long, and we’d risk being seen,” said Kirk.

  “Please don’t put me back in a cell!” whimpered Plaach.

  Kirk turned to face the frightened alien. “If we let you tag along do you swear not to get in our way and that if we get out of this, you’ll travel back to Titan and help Rubik resolve his case?”

  “Will any of this be taken into account as good behavior? Helping an officer with his inquiries. That sort of thing?” Plaach asked hopefully.

  “Don’t push it,” Rubik said.

  “I won’t get in the way,” said Plaach, giving a crooked salute.

  Kirk looked at Rubik, but simply got a shrug of the shoulders in response.

  “Okay, lets get to that elevator,” Kirk said.

  Minutes later they were standing in the elevator as it made its slow progress up to the Lord High Grand Provost’s chambers.

  “Why is the music in here ‘The Girl from Iponema?” Kirk asked after finally recognizing the tune.

  “Girl from where?” Plaach asked.

  “It’s the Prion National Anthem,” said Rubik.

  “The Girl from Ipanema is the national anthem of Prio?”

  “It does sound different through these speakers than it does played by a marching band,” said Rubik.

  “I always knew there was something inherently evil about that song,” muttered Kirk.

  They rode on in silence as Kirk marveled again that a species able to menace all its surrounding galaxies could not build an elevator car which could climb faster than he could climb stairs.

  “Warm enough for ya?” Plaach suddenly asked with a smile.

  Kirk glared at him. “Why is it, whenever you’re someplace unbearably hot, some idiot always asks, ‘hot enough for ya?”

  “Must be one of those universal constants,” said Plaach, beaming.

  Before Kirk could reply, they heard a soft ping as they reached their floor. Kirk slammed his thumb on the ‘close doors’ button and looked at Plaach and Rubik.

  “You both ready?” he asked.

  They both nodded. A hard set expression was on Rubik’s face as he unconsciously gripped his sword a little more tightly. Plaach barely contained a look of intense excitement on his, revealing the extent to which he had no idea of the danger they were about to walk willingly into.

  Kirk took a deep breath and hit the “open doors” button.

  Whatever they were expecting to see, the view greeting Kirk, Rubik, and Plaach as they looked out of the elevator was not it.

  The wide hallway they stepped into looked as if a small war had been fought in it. Decorations were hanging, tattered and torn, from the walls. Large chunks of masonry were missing from the walls and scattered liberally around the floor. Furniture was smashed, splintered, and cast around. In the middle of all this chaos was Lu and as far as Kirk was concerned, Richard Nixon, fighting with such ferocity that none of the new arrivals could bring themselves to even consider trying to assist.

  “Casio,” growled Kirk.

  “You prefer the pervert version?” the F.R.B. replied innocently. Nixon shimmered and was replaced by the restive Pro Kirk first saw at Kenturk.

  As they watched, it was obvious the assassin chose to avoid using her pheromones and was attempting to beat Lu, one on one. This was a mistake she was slow to recognize, and then too stubborn to rectify. Even now as Lu rained down a torrent of blows on her, Restive Pro grew only more determined than ever to beat her quarry without resorting to that. It was a matter of personal pride now.

  Suddenly Lu stopped, and with one savage kick, she swung and lifted the assassin off the floor and skidding across the room. Finally slamming into a wall, sending further chunks of masonry flying out from around her.

  “Lu!?” exclaimed Kirk.

  Lu turned and for a moment seemed confused to see them standing there. The she staggered forward and spun around, revealing a knife sticking in her back. She wheeled around, grabbing at the knife and pulling it free. Behind her, Restive Pro was rising, a second knife held in her hand and a vicious smile playing across her lips.

  Lu staggered sideways and tried to grab the wall for support. She missed and fell to the floor. Slowly she pulled herself into a sitting position, propped against the wall.

  “I am impressed, Pangaean,” said Restive. “You have gained access to the Provost’s chambers. I will not underestimate you again, as I did before.”

  “Yeah, about that?” said Kirk, raising his hands in an attempt to calm the situation. “It was just that we are in kind of a hurry, and if we get delayed anymore, there won’t be a anyone around to pay you.”

  “So it is true, then?” You have come to kill the Provost,” the assassin sounded impressed.

  “Well, it’s more a case that there won’t be much of
anything left. In the universe.” Kirk tried to explain. “Let me appeal to your business sense. No universe equals no clients. No clients equals no work for professional assassins. Actually, it’ll mean no assassin as well, but that’s a side issue.”

  “This is no longer about business.” Pro smiled coldly. “This became personal a long time ago.”

  “I was worried you might think like that,” Kirk said.

  “However, before I deal with you, I have one matter of unfinished business that has hung on far to long,” the assassin said. In one swift, fluid motion, she hurled the knife in her hand with deadly accuracy at Lu.

  “NO!” screamed Kirk.

  The quake ran through the entire Temple. The initiates ran for cover, while the wiser masters simply sought to protect the most cherished items of the Twil. Quakes were rare. The Temple of Twil was situated on a large asteroid devoid of any atmosphere. The enormous chunk of floating rock was, in and itself, devoid of life. The Temple and all who lived there existed in a state of perpetual Potential. The seismic disturbance was not linked to anything geological. In truth, nothing existing in the other four dimensions could cause any kind of danger to the temple, or anyone, as long as they were inside.

  The Lama hastily convened a meeting of his wisest Priests. It was a small group. The four Priests sat, cross-legged on large crimson cushions before the eight-year old boy.

  The Lama was older than anyone in the temple, yet he found the form of an eight-year old boy from the planet Earth offered him the truest connection with Potential he had ever experienced. Being in this physical form laid open to him the most grand possibilities anyone exploring the field of Potential could ever hope to come close to. Occasionally, he would switch to the female of the species, and while the possibilities were no less diverse, he did find they were different none-the-less.

  “All has returned to normal, master,” reported one of the priests.

  “Do we know what caused the ripple?” asked a second.

  “That was no ripple!” exclaimed the third.

  “Someone has torn the weave of Potential!”

  “Was it serious, master?” the fourth asked, and all turned and looked at the boy.

  “It is something that we must look into much closer,” the Lama said. “Alone, it is nothing that we need concern ourselves about. But if the one responsible is left unchecked, and begins to recognize the power they wield, and to use it in an unrestrained manner, there is no telling what might happen.”